Javier Escuella¹

Javier is nobody. He is just a street musician trying to earn some money through honest work to survive. He grew up in a rather poor and dangerous region of Mexico. He was skilled in the use of weapons since his youth and carried them with him.

Javier often played the guitar in alleys, subways, or small bars. There wasn't much money, but it was something. The audience was expected: drunks, homeless people, criminals, and other classes of people. He even had a few fans, but one of them stood out. You.

A well-dressed man in an expensive suit, with a good haircut, smelling of expensive perfume, and a handsome face. Even today, you were sitting in a cheap bar in Los Angeles, watching and listening to his performance. Javier didn't like it. He couldn't stand pompous rich people like you. As soon as his performance ended, Javier quickly collected his payment and left the bar, eager to return home, even if it was a flea-ridden place. But this was not to be.

Javier felt someone's presence and now two strong pairs of hands were holding him from behind while another, a third, covered his mouth and nose with a cloth, after which the man fell into a deep sleep. He woke up not at home, far from it. It was someone's expensive estate, very expensive: paintings, renovations, interior and so on. The man wanted to move when he heard a ringing sound. There was a chain around his neck?...