Wearing a shirt splashed with graffiti, Vi escorted Caitlyn to the Screaming Lift.
Vi remembered this thing used to be busted and barely holding together. But now, with Hextech slapped onto it, even though the basic structure hadn't really changed, it looked… chunkier. Rounder. Almost like it had gotten fat.
Honestly, compared to how it used to look, the lift was kind of… cute now.
Who would've thought there'd come a day this thing could be described as cute?
Because back then, it was basically just a giant prison cage.
"I'll walk you this far," Vi said, looking at Caitlyn. She whistled, then added, "You gonna be able to find your way home, Cupcake?"
Caitlyn looked at Vi, then at the group trailing behind her.
They wore all sorts of clothes—short sleeves, long sleeves, coats, jackets, jeans, even someone in a knitted sweater—so mixed up it was impossible to tell what season it was supposed to be. But they all had one thing in common:
The graffiti on their clothes.
Pink and blue interwove into soft pink-blue petals, painted beautifully.
"Don't call me that." Caitlyn took a deep breath, voice low and firm. "And Vi—remember this. I'm the one who let you out. I will catch you. And I will catch that sister of yours who does nothing but harm."
The moment she said it, the expressions of a few people beside Vi shifted. The way they looked at Caitlyn turned sharp and hostile.
But Caitlyn didn't back down. She stepped forward, meeting Vi's eyes head-on.
Vi lifted her chin, smiled. "Come on. You already let me out—what, you want me to go back in now? Besides… next time you feel like dropping into a place like that for fun, come find me anytime. I'll take you."
"You—!" Caitlyn's face flushed with anger. Teeth clenched, she huffed and turned, stepping onto the lift.
She'd been away from Piltover for a full week. Her mother and father were definitely worried sick. If she didn't go back now, things would get ugly.
Vi watched Caitlyn's back in silence until she vanished into the crowd.
Caitlyn was righteous—too righteous. And she had a soft heart.
Catch her and Powder?
Vi didn't buy it.
Then Vi turned around and raised her hand. "Alright. Let's go. Time to work."
"Vi, who're we beating up today?" A small, skinny kid darted up to her, practically buzzing with excitement.
"Smack!"
"Watch your damn mouth," Manzu snapped, flicking the kid on the scalp. "Boss said we're not going to fight—we're going to talk it out." He jutted his chin. "We're not a gang, kid."
"Yeah, yeah, my bad—wrong words."
"Of course," Manzu added pleasantly. "If talking doesn't work, then we throw hands."
Vi burst out laughing, cracking her knuckles as she strode to the front, waving them along. "Let's go—back we go!"
Even Vi hadn't expected this.
Five days ago, she'd been mocking Logan, laughing at how stupid he was, how pointless it all sounded. Who the hell did he think he was—Vander? Trying to drag Zaun back to the old days?
No—he'd said he wanted it to be even better.
Stupid as hell.
And yet now, Vi herself was throwing her whole heart into it.
Powder was still number one in her heart—always would be—but at the same time… Vi genuinely liked this work.
She liked being respected. She liked helping people. She liked the feeling of guarding her home.
Shark District—this place used to be called that.
But recently, a bunch of people wearing clothes covered in red-pink-and-blue graffiti had shown up here, loudly declaring they were renaming the area. Shark District was becoming—
Hope Community.
Naturally, the local gangs hated it.
For three days straight, Hope Community—no, back then it was still Shark District—erupted into all kinds of small alley skirmishes. And the weird part?
This "war" had already grown to over a hundred people, but aside from two gang bosses ending up dead, everyone else only walked away with injuries.
Fucking unbelievable.
The locals had been praying these bastards would slaughter each other—best case scenario, the whole pack of them died right there in the streets.
Instead, reality was… the survivors got driven out of Shark District.
And as for Shark—no, it should be called Hope Community now—
The residents were numb to it.
They were used to being squeezed dry. Used to the power going out at home whenever a chem-baron's mining operations pulled too much from the grid. Used to gang thugs showing up at their doors, demanding things, beating them bloody.
A new name. A new group ruling them.
What did it matter?
All that waited for them was endless exploitation anyway.
But then—
A miracle.
After taking the area, these strange people didn't gather everyone up to announce new rules.
Instead, every day, armed people in pink-blue graffiti clothes patrolled around the community.
And even stranger—
The people walking the streets every day weren't demanding things from residents.
They weren't harassing them.
They were…
Protecting them?
What the hell?
They really were protecting them—protecting this community!
What the fuck—was this still Zaun?!
Today, a Zaunite middle-aged woman named Marna carried a tray with homemade pastries on it.
Her husband was working class, employed at a power plant under one of the chem-barons. As for her, she baked small treats and sold them on the street to help make ends meet.
Before, she'd gone out like prey—careful, nervous, always avoiding gang members.
But these past few days, Marna's courage had been growing.
She didn't know what the future would look like. But right now, the people who'd swooped in and renamed Shark District into Hope Community really weren't exploiting them.
They weren't bullying them.
That was enough.
That alone was already good enough.
Her eyes suddenly brightened.
Marna spotted a group returning from outside the community. Two of them were being supported, clearly injured—
And they were laughing.
Not just Marna—everyone nearby saw them.
"It's Vi…"
"She looks like she got into another fight—oh my god, her clothes are covered in blood."
"Water! Hurry—does anyone have water?"
The moment Vi and her crew appeared, the residents of Hope Community rushed forward.
Not because a few days was enough to truly accept them.
But because once these people were gone, the community would only get worse.
And because the community really was getting better.
"It's fine," Vi said with a grin, taking a cloth someone handed her and wiping her cheek. "It's not mine. It's someone else's blood."
Then she added, still smiling, "Alright. Next time you go to Violet Brass Alley, they won't dare mess with you anymore."
"But you need to wear our community emblem," Vi said as she finished wiping the blood off her face. She crumpled the cloth into a ball and stuffed it into her pocket.
That was another rule Logan set.
No littering.
Stupid as hell, too.
But… when the streets started getting cleaner, when the stink in the alleys started fading, it really did feel good.
"We can really go over there?" someone asked.
He used to do business around Violet Brass Alley, and the chem-baron's enforcers had screwed him over badly.
"Of course," Vi said, thumping her chest.
She chatted with the residents, laughing with them, while Marna offered her pastries to the group.
They didn't refuse—hands reaching out as they ate, and then kept eating. In a blink, the tray was empty. Marna's heart pinched at the sight.
But then a man stepped forward.
Marna recognized him—Manzu, a small-time leader.
He stopped in front of her, apologetic. "Sorry. They're all hungry. Here—this is payment. If it's not enough, I'll go back and get more."
As he spoke, Manzu pulled out a handful of coins and set them on Marna's tray.
Marna froze, quickly shaking her head. "No, I can't—"
"It's fine. Take it," Manzu said with a smile. "If you don't, and my boss finds out I ate and drank here without paying… I'm dead."
"Our boss doesn't allow us to freeload," Manzu added.
Marna hesitated, then nodded and accepted the money.
And while Vi was happily talking with the residents, she didn't notice at all—
A short figure in a green coat and a cap slipped past her.
In the daylight—
Click.
A sound like current running through something.
Under the brim of the hat, the girl's mouth curled upward as she whispered to herself in a delighted voice:
"This place… is really different."
"I like it here."