It was a bright morning. I'm saying that in a pejorative sense, of course. Every day of my life had been far too grim and dark to be called "bright." Whatever silver lining was left in this every day routine of mine was hardly something worth looking forward to.
Brushing those thoughts aside, I got up from the ground to find myself in a hut. The surely blinding sun peered through the rudimentary construction with ease, forcing me to wake up at a socially acceptable hour.
"...Not good."
I rubbed my eyes as I got up to confirm where I was.
My name is Jean Pierre "Coleur" Polnareff Mister. In my line of work, it's common to get kidnapped, and I'm sure some piece of shit just shipped me to Africa or something.
"Good morning, brother!" a voice called from outside, making me turn my face to the blinding light.
"Augh..." I immediately turned back to the darkness.
"Are you feeling alright?" the voice called out again. I looked up reservedly to confirm it was some small black child, probably around fourteen years old. He seemed like he was part of a tribe or something. Fucking Africa.
"...I'm fine, just... groggy."
The boy handed me a vase full of water. Fucking Africa.
I took a modest gulp at it and thought for a moment.
"Don't be shy brother, keep drinking if you need to!"
"..."
After downing some more water, I looked up to the child and—
[] Backhanded the snotty shit out of him
[] Thanked him and politely gleamed information from him
[] Fell in love with him
[] Died