--oesn't work, remember? That Staryu soaked me to the bone and the 'gear stopped working.
[An exasperated sigh.]
I can't find America anywhere. I looked for him all over the place and we got attacked by that Pidgey on our way down Route 30.
[A pause, it's quiet and then some rustling.]
You think we'll find him, Johnny?
'Bone!Yeah, I think so
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[reminded of a certain shitting soldier.]
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That's sounds scary.
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Do people die often?
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But at least you're okay. [She's trying to be optimistic here.]
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..... At least.
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Do you help people from these monsters? Like...are you a hero or something?
[She sounds very excited. Ah, she loves heroes.]
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How can you be so sure? Have you tried?
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Being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be. I've been called a "Legendary Hero", but I'm just a guy with a gun, an old killer that does the dirty work no one else can.
There's no glory in death, no sense of accomplishment at the end. It's all gritty, gory, and full of tears.
I'm no hero. And I never want to be.
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But if someone calls you a hero...doesn't that mean you were able to help someone? To protect someone?
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