Let me tell you a very boring story. There are countless middle-class Columbian children living plainly favorable lives, who still attempt to assert their own individuality via what rebelliousness they've learned from others. Our hero for today is one such case. The kids downtown never seem to exhaust their creativity or energy. Their skate tricks, graffiti art, and street rap hold a certain peculiar charm. No need for any means of intercity communication; it flourishes naturally in any urban center. Even the private school kids are captivated by this downtown 'ruff 'n' tuff stuff,' but discipline from their parents or teachers usually keeps them steering clear. They don't go out and experience the cool stuff for themselves. So, our hero? His parents weren't for or against, they just didn't care, because our hero was a step ahead of the rest of his year. In whatever time was his own, he'd run off to hang out with those kids, but never actually joined in any of their activities. Maybe he was scared his classmates would mock him? Maybe he was scared that doing anything alongside the Infected would bring him trouble? Maybe he knew he wasn't like those kids, and in his heart raged all manner of emotions with nowhere to pour them? Who knows. All we know is that after the city passed a few new regulations quite unfriendly to the Infected, he put his self-taught knowledge to use and provided those kids some special new graffiti paints. If you ever tried to use water or any ordinary solvent to clean those walls, fresh anti-City Hall obscenities would show up over the works to disappoint you. You think this story's actually veering on being interesting? Heh. Wait until I'm done. Yes, there's still more. Years later, those downtown kids are grown-ups now, saddled with what City Hall gave them, including the 'necessities for life' bundled along with their experimental weapons. They're on Pioneer Teams. I hear the forces they're part of took down a group of wicked barbarians like they were spraypainting across a map, opening up an ideal site for Columbia to build a nomadic city. The street culture they once also pioneered hasn't vanished since their departure, either. You could even say it's popular among all the youth of the city now, as a form of recreation. And what of our hero, you ask? He left the city, and never again encountered any graffiti from the throes of the heart, or skateboards in hand-painted livery. He found a job, and spends day in and day out either making more efficient weapons for his customers, or researching how to more efficiently destroy them.