Michael was very lucky with his parents. They had a strong family, whose relationships were built on mutual trust and respect. His mother worked as a waitress in a small cafeteria, his father as a driver for transporting goods of various complexity. It was decided that the son would follow in his father's footsteps and also become a driver. Although the choice of school for the future profession was not easy for the parents. The thing is that when passing the final tests there were several areas in which the boy could prove himself: programming, martial arts, vehicles and weapons. There was no doubt that he could make a good mercenary. But considering how many risks this profession entailed, the parents decided that it would be better for the child to choose a more calm and understandable direction. So they gave him to the school of transport. Michael's talents were good, plus the very idea of continuing his father's work bribed him with its traditionalism. Especially since it was not a job for hire, but a continuation of the family business. George worked for himself: he had a small firm, co-operating with partners in terms of receiving orders and renting transport for transporting goods. He had his own rather small personal lorry, which was not suitable for every job.

Since cities with bronze status are transport hubs and specialise in transport, the boy began to master most of the existing land, surface and air vehicles. The training vehicles were designed specifically to suit the modest stature of the trainees (scaled down prototypes of the original versions). Practice and training took place not only in the city where Michael grew up, but also in other cities. As it would be impossible to fit all the transport on the territory of one school. By the end of his training Michael should have been able to drive all types of existing transport. At least, that is what was recorded in the graduation certificate.

By his character, Michael has always been a determined, persistent boy, trying to study diligently, so as not to let down the expectations of his parents. After all, they did everything possible for him to live comfortably. Adherence to family values, attitudes and traditions has always been a priority for Michael, but already at the age of 14 he realised what path he wanted to follow, regardless of parental expectations. Yes, due to the existence of a certain education system, he was obliged to follow it. To graduate from what he had begun to learn. But after graduation, when adulthood was to begin, the boy set his sights on reaching a completely different level in terms of finances, opportunities, and influence. There were plenty of such ambitious boys and girls graduating. However, not every child achieved their goals and resigned themselves to an ordinary life.

George was involved in transporting cargoes of various categories, from foodstuffs to military equipment and explosive chemicals. In addition to him, there were three other drivers on staff. A logistician was given separate authority, organising the shortest, least congested and safest routes. From time to time George also had to hire a team of mercenaries to escort the cargo and make sure it got from point A to point B smoothly. It was a small group of four men that he had been working with for quite some time.

The leader of this group was named Fred. Yes, the same Fred they'd sat in the bar with. And who was so genuinely excited about Michael's imminent birth. By the time the boy was just 14, Fred was 52 years old. He looked like a typical daredevil: a T-shirt with a giant skull print on the chest, a black leather waistcoat with no buttons, pierced ears with piercings, red lenses, worn torn long shorts and black sports trainers with ornaments on the edges. Behind his back hung a short-barreled shotgun, with ammunition on his belt. At his sides were pistols in holsters. His group had two identical brown Safari jeeps with machine guns instead of back seats. George felt quite secure with mercenaries with such a solid combat arsenal accompanying him.

During the transport, one jeep was in front of George's car and the other was behind it. Since Michael's father and Fred were best friends, and the former was a regular customer, Fred always gave a substantial discount on his group's services. In addition, he was a frequent guest at the Silver house. He could even come uninvited to a party, or just show up when he had some free time on his hands. At the table Fred often talked about his orders and the trouble he'd been in lately.

Michael always admired him: his courage and bravery, fearlessness and selflessness. Secretly from his parents, the boy always dreamed that when he became an adult, he would be trained for the military, becoming a successful mercenary like Fred. He dreamed that he would help the local population and protect them from trouble. A bright pipe dream of a naive boy immersed in his dreams. Only then he didn't know that such a job involved not only good deeds, but also dirty orders, which Fred deliberately didn't tell him anything about.

753. It was spring. The buds on the trees in Ounvilshen began to blossom and flowers woke up from their winter hibernation. The town was filled with the wonderful colours and smells of blossoming plants. April was approaching, which Michael had always looked forward to. It was his birthday that month, and every year he and his family would go out and have fun. George had arranged his schedule so that he wouldn't take bookings at this time, or at least not participate in them, and Mariana would take a couple of days off. There was no such thing as a holiday. The cities had no social security or pension fund. Employers refused to pay for days off, but with advance notice they would at least provide them.

The Silvers lived in the industrial area of the city, which was mostly machine shops and private sectors made up of small one- and two-storey simple houses. Some of which had broken tiles or other minor damage. The location was not chosen at random, but primarily for George's business orientation. In addition, property prices were many times lower than in any bedroom community in Ounvilshen.

Compared to other buildings, the Silver house looked tidy and had a fairly large area. It had two floors with a total usable area of about 110 square metres. In the backyard was a small garden, which was tended by Mariana. Next to the house stood two garages, one of which was mostly used as a storage room. It held tools and boxes of old junk. The other was for George's rented vehicles, which he temporarily left outside before his next assignment.

An ordinary evening in a warm, family atmosphere. Mariana scurried back and forth, serving the food and clearing away the excess from the table. George and Michael sat opposite each other, as befitted the heads of the family, and talked. From time to time Mum also kept the conversation going. The dialogue was about everyday life: about Michael's success at school, about his father's recent orders, about his mother's clients and about the upcoming practice of the boy.

– I have a surprise for you. I think you'll like it. – George turned to his son intrigued, putting a solid piece of chicken fillet in his mouth. Mariana came quickly to the table, dropping everything she was doing. She took her seat, resting her face on both palms and looking at her husband.

– We're all listening to you very carefully, darling! – Mariana said animatedly, watching Michael's father chewing the chicken she had prepared.

– Anyway, I'm not going to wait and I'll tell you straight. Soon you'll be fifteen years old. And I think you've had enough of polishing your training prototypes. It's time to get down to business! I've arranged with the headmaster of your school that this year you'll be interning at our firm's headquarters under my close supervision. In short, from tomorrow we'll work together and I'll take you on assignments. – George began his short monologue, but did not have time to finish it, because Mariana jumped off the chair and began to hug him tightly and kissed him on the cheeks and in the eyes.