There is a man whose name we don't say aloud. Not on these streets, no. I fear to write it because who knows if he'll like it or not? He's like that. One moment he's laughing, the next there's bullets flying in the air.
But he's not as careless as I make him out. Forgive me, ZIKIWE. We call him the merciful punisher. He goes after those who hurt the unprotected. The vulnerable and weak. He looks out for us, but you'll never know it.
Why would you? He's the meanest looking cat on these streets. So much for a soft interior. He's all metal, cigars and that damn rum.