Vanbrilliance ate the last portion of his meat bun. He shot a glance at the nearby basket and found that there are no more buns. He decided to make some, but he felt tired...and a little bit downtrodden. Somehow, he had the urge to contact Julia - his luscious Agent - for a quick fix, but he dropped the idea. Instead, he took a bottle of whiskey and poured on a glass.

Approaching the window, Van started wondering about the overall ecology of the streets. He once learned from a Sicilian Mafia chief that observing the streets (or the world) is a beneficial skill that must be learned - especially for Mafiosi. After the recent bloodshed in Vegas, he noticed that people have become more observant...and ever-vigilant. After that, Vanbrilliance quickly settled for a new apartment in Detroit. But he only moved there due to a seemingly mysterious message.

***********

The Memory:

On that day, he remembered the cacophony of gunshots, along with few explosions here and there. His natural instinct caused him to grab his pistol and prepare for the worst. Four knocks on the door made him bolt from the bed. As he opened the door, gun in hand, he saw a sweating and skinny guy.

"Mr. Brilliance, sir, how are you doin?" The weird guy spoke.

"Who the fuck are you?" Van grabbed the guy by the collar, pulled him inside the apartment, and pointed the gun at him.

"Please! Please! Don't shoot...don't shoot...I have a booty call next week--"

"The fuck do I care about your booty call?!" Van pressed his pistol's nozzle against the guy's temple. Outside, more shots echoed.

"Okay, sorry, Mr. Brilliance. Sorry. I was asked to go here in the event that things went...you know..ass-crazy. Do you remember Gier?"

"Gear? What? Am I dealin' with machines now?"

"He was one of your customers way way back, sir. He...bought truckloads of Spicy Salami from you."

"Oh yeah, Gier indeed." Van remembered. "But why are you here? And you didn't answer me..who are you?"

"I'm Jaime Soto...one of his loyal assistants. He helped me a lot, sir. He...he told me to give you a fair warning that if ever things become shitty, since they always do, you go to Detroit."

"Where is Gier now?" Van asked patiently. His nerves relaxed as the shots outside stopped.

"I don't know. He probably sought greener pastures or he's six feet in the ground...I just don't know. He told me to relay this order in advance. Two months in advance, to be exact."

"Why should I follow your advice?"

Jaime Soto smirked uneasily. "It's the best thing you can do now."

"Point taken, Jaime. Thank you." Van pulled Jaime up. "Now, leave. Take care of yourself and once you see Gier again, thank him for me."

"Uhhh, sir...do you have meat buns there? I'm willing to buy some."

"Here's one." Van took a meat bun and put it on Jaime's hand. "It's free. Leave, before I change my mind."

Jaime left the place quickly - he knows that Van is half-obsessed in 'butchering' undesirables.

***********

As the memory receded from his mind, Vanbrilliance muttered a 'thanks' to Gier, wherever he is. He finished his whiskey and felt more empowered now. There are new beginnings, after all, if one knows where to look. Van pondered if he needs to change his meat bun recipe. Perhaps he can introduce meat cakes, meat lollipops, or Durden jerky. Or he can find Sceadu again to run few jobs.

Regardless of any thoughts, one thing is certain: the only permanent thing in this world is Change.

**