A man stood at the roof of a building, watching the street below. People were chatteering, pattering about. The honking sounds of cars were loud, ear piercing even.
His face curled in disdain and he glanced at the half moon first, before he unbuttoned the buttons of his suit jacket. Taking a step forward, off the roof, he began falling with his back to the ground, eyes fixed on the sky lazily Just before impact, he flipped himself over, and landed lightly on his feet.
He lifted his gaze to the gated mansion he had interest in, and without stalling, he crossed over and approached the gate.
A security rushed over to him, grabbing his arm. "Sir, may I ask who you are? You'll have to wait—"
The man slowly turned his head toward him. He lowered his gaze to the security's hand and grabbed at his wrist. Without warning, he began twisting his hand and despite the security's cry, he didn't stop once, almost breaking his wrist.
