Freed from the burden of a title and with much more time on his hands to his name now, he was… bored.

How was this possible? Him, Laurence Michael Anderson, bored out of his fucking mind?

Definitely true in more ways than one!

Normally he would’ve been done delivering all the packages he’d agreed to drop off by now, however a backup of some delayed cargo holders had caused most everyone that worked at his courier service to pick up extra routes and time—which meant extra pay.

(Even if he wasn’t in this for the pay, still, extra work meant everyone had to stay for longer and he wanted to help everyone out so they could all go home and then return to the inevitable cycle of having to wake up early the next day to deliver another endless parade of packages…)

In his case, though, he just wanted to help out, extra pay be damned. And so here we are, with his motorcycle humming quietly, the engine turned low and a few more packages nestled in the side saddle of the motorbike he was driving around.

(How long had it been since he last brought this out? Hello lumia peura.)

It wouldn’t take him too long to find a bike that had been leaned against a tree along with a backpack… okay… maybe whoever owned this bike had gone to answer the call of nature in the woods? But normally would someone leave their stuff out like this, and not come back for…

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” he sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose; before getting off his own motorbike and killing the engine. The last few packages would have to wait, because…

“Hello?” he called out, hoping someone would answer.

(Probably the single biggest mistake you ever made, dumbass!)