Act 1: Legacy

Chapter 1: The Frontier

Another beautiful day in Roanapur. That's what I used to tell myself, anyway. Things here haven't really changed much even with all the bloodshed the city has seen. The cartels go about their business like they always have and it's just another day at the office for the ruling factions. I look out my window and I see the faces of the damned. My own is among them, now, too. But I've been at peace with that for a while. I've woken up in my own apartment more often than not these last three weeks. That's only natural. Work has been scarce lately and the best way to pass the time is by getting drunk. But that's not the only reason I haven't been back to the office. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been avoiding my colleagues. Things haven't been the same since we came back from that fishing hamlet. It's better this way, even if they can't see that. They'll thank me in the end. At least this way, I don't have to deal with the aftermath of my stupid decisions anymore. It's a relief, to know that you're never going to find yourself in that situation again. There's no room in this world for compassion, I'm just sorry it took me so long to realise that. In the end, I would only ever end up hurting myself, and for what? You can't save people who don't want to be saved, and trying is only going to cause you more heartache than if you'd done nothing at all. I don't have to worry about that anymore. I don't have to worry about anything, for that matter. Not my colleagues, not the people of this city…not even myself. As it turns out, Revy was right. The sooner you accept that you're already dead, that idea sets you free. I don't care if she has a problem with the way I am. She spent long enough telling me I wasn't good enough, chastising me for my failures because I cared too much. This is exactly what she wanted, and the sooner she accepts that the sooner I can get on with my life. I don't know what her damn problem is, anyway. But that's just the thing…I don't care, either. I see things the way they truly are, and I see this city, just like I see everyone in it and all of their darkest secrets…it's beautiful.

Hungover and alone in his own apartment, Rock must have been feeling the weight of his loneliness as he became more aware by the day how distant he was from Lagoon Company. It was a circumstance of his own making, of course, but it was no less glaringly apparent as a result. He rolled over in the bed and looked out the window as these thoughts swam around in his mind. Indeed, he saw quite a few things that others did not, but there were still shadows and secrets in this city that even he was not privy to, least of all on this morning in his shaken state. Across the street, in an alley, Abrego ordered his men to garrotte a bound man, strangling him with a length of wire. Further inland, near one of the more central districts of the city, the Wolf awoke in a hotel room bed and reached for the beer bottle on the bedside locker, polishing off its remains from the night before as the redheaded woman he had met in the bar the night before slept beside him. And more central still, in the penthouse belonging to the Triad, Mister Chang spoke with the boisterous Lexi about the people under her command that stood amongst the ranks of the Triad, bought and paid for by Chang himself. There was much activity in the city, despite how quiet it seemed and how scarce work had become.

Rock finally decided he was not going to get back to sleep and he threw on his clothes lazily, grabbing his keys and heading outside. He must have reeked of alcohol, judging by the looks he got. That, or his reputation was being upheld. For a long time now, Rock had become well known amongst even the pettiest and most depraved of criminals in Roanapur as something of an urban legend. The man who would not point a gun at you, but could so easily have you killed with his mind and intellect should he so please. He was no stranger to scrutinising looks from strangers. But he continued walking nonetheless, so used to this that it did not warrant acknowledgement. Despite Rock's earlier assertion that the city hadn't really seen much change, he had to admit that it was a much different beast after the string of wars and conflicts that had been seen here during the last two years. Where once pickpockets, thieves and thugs would openly wander around and prey on the unfortunate souls to cross their paths, now there was an air of apprehension and even fear to the passers-by and resident criminals that Rock passed as he walked down the street. Some of these degenerates were no longer so brazen in their activities, opting instead to err on the side of caution. It was almost like they were afraid of being seen by the wrong people. Whether those people were the ruling factions or other parties entirely remained a mystery, one Rock had no interest in looking into. He continued walking aimlessly for what must have been almost half an hour, content to just wander around the streets. In stark juxtaposition to the other criminals that seemed almost afraid to go about their business in daylight, Rock took no notice of his surroundings and cared not who might see him. In a way, he found the notion that his reputation preceded him oddly titillating. It also offered him a sense of security, assurance that nobody would bother him because they knew well who he was and what he was capable of. What he had been capable of, at least. He was not like that anymore. Then again, there were some who would argue that the way he was now was even worse.

Rock was swiftly taken out of his thoughts by the stranger who rushed out of the building to his left and bumped into him, declining to apologise and running in the other direction. A second person emerged from the same building and followed the first, also bumping into Rock. He grunted in annoyance and looked to his left, at the establishment itself. It was a diner of sorts, styled on American diners and fast food eateries with several booths and seats of bright red leather and a jukebox in the corner. There were very few others like it in the city, if any. Rock recognised it after a moment of thought. He had walked passed it before. In actual fact, he had entered the building itself after he had seen who sat within enjoying a meal. The American man from the state of Georgia had been sitting quietly by himself as his Dead Men sat nearby in case anybody saw fit to approach him. When Rock did so, they went on the alert, but Hunter Woods spoke with the Japanese man and allowed him the chance to say his piece. Rock remembered that day as if it was happening at this moment, he could smell the eggs and bacon on Hunter's plate, he could hear the cooks in the kitchen shouting at one another, he could feel the heat of the sun on his skin through the window. He also remembered what it was that compelled him to enter the diner when he saw the man his instincts told him was Hunter Woods sitting there. As they spoke, Rock made a coordinated and concise attempt to bargain for Usagi's life. He knew Hunter was there to take her back to Hong Kong, her father was one of Hunter's most trusted advisers, after all. They would not leave the city without the girl. But Rock poured every ounce of passion into trying to convince the leader of the Dead Men to leave her alone and allow her to exist away from her father and his life of crime. At the time, Hunter had agreed. Once he had a possession returned to him, a collection of documents detailing his dealings and relations with other notable individuals that Usagi had taken when she fled her home, Hunter was willing to turn a blind eye to her whereabouts. Rock knew well how that was no longer an option after Balalaika turned on the Dead Men and declared war against them.

It was strange to remember how much Rock cared for her. There was no real emotional connection, and certainly no romantic attraction or anything of the like, but he had been determined to spare her the gruelling prospect of returning to the life she was trying to escape. Perhaps he saw some of himself in her, the young impressionable Japanese man who had been taken prisoner by a small band of pirates in a torpedo boat and thrust into a life of criminal activity. Perhaps he wished to avoid the same for her. It didn't matter, now. Rock no longer allowed himself such troublesome attachments, and he had a feeling none would come to fruition even if he did allow them to, not anymore. He did not know what had become of Usagi after Hotel Moscow laid waste to the gangs of Hong Kong, but it was probably safe to assume she did not survive. At least she had never succumbed to the darkness.

Rock continued to walk, making his way closer to the coast as he did so. After his recent kidnapping at the hands of the New Order, he said his somewhat lacklustre farewells to the Lovelaces and watched them depart. He hadn't accompanied them to the dock as he may have at one time, but he heard that they were gone back to Venezuela. The memory of Roberta's hunt for the Grey Fox soldiers used to leave a bad taste in his mouth, thoughts of how he had gambled with several lives bringing uncomfortable implications to the surface. But it had been a long time since anything like that truly bothered him. In his apathy and coldness, his conversations with Garcia Lovelace were the only things that managed to breach his exterior and revive, however temporarily, the old Rock that gave a damn about other people. And so he told them to get away from this city and live in peace with the knowledge that their sins were no more and they had earned the right to have a happy life, uneventful and without incident. He meant what he said. But he would not let that happen again. His emotion and compassion were considered weaknesses and they would only hold him back. As he had come to realise long ago, there was no room for those kinds of feelings in this life.

He ran his finger along the length of his nose. He could feel where it had been broken when Revy's fist was launched into it that night in the Yellowflag. He knew she would never come to realise that this was a good thing, that he had finally evolved into the perfect companion she always wished him to be. But that was why they no longer called one another friend or partner. The damage was done, Rock knew that. But he no longer wasted his time caring about it. He was who he was and sooner or later the others were going to have to accept that, especially Revy. If he had to guess, though, he would bet every cent to his name that she would sooner try and shoot him.