Sleep...

Yeah, staying up for two days isn't as easy as I thought. As it got dark last night, I slipped. But I wasn't gone very long this time; less than a month in fact. This time I came to a modern looking city. Then was nearly trampled by a bunch of kids running from the cops. I was stunned at what happened and the kids ran past, so the police dragged me away. Once I was at the station they decided I was innocent (no one recognized me), so they let me go. Before long I realized that there was a war going on between the police and drug gangs. The city was starting to get a bad rep for it. Drug addicts and drug dealers were actually coming from across the country, and even across the world, to have easy access the drugs and money with little resistance from local authorities. At least one cop died every week. For once, I realized what I needed to do during my first day.

This is actually another great place where my very long stay as a Spartan helped out. After I finished the year of survival training, I got to come back. I was rewarded, properly, for doing so well. My reward? I was considered a real man, warrior, and Spartan. A full fledged citizen. And as such it was my duty to make war. I continued training and become the leader of a "squad" like band of other young spartans. My squad, and others like them, would conduct training missions against each other (as usual, often resulting in deaths), and even skirmishes/small wars with the local helots. Here we learned to fight as a small, cohesive group. Almost like special forces. And in the ancient world, that's what we were. Every Spartan soldier was an elite warrior, just as a special forces soldier. Imagine a city state where every male citizen was an elite Navy Seal or something. These guys were tough.

So, from my experience leading this squad, and later larger groups, I managed to start leading the police forces as well. I began intense physical training for both me and them as well. Because of my previous experience in strength, I made gains very fast. I was able to wear full body armor and equipment and still sprint... even do parkour. This made the frequent gunfights very easy. The cops would do their normal fighting while I climbed up the side of a building and landed behind the druggies ranks.

I remember one time very well (it feels like last week to me). There were tree cars on a street outside of an alley that was packed with druggies who had robbed a bank, and all of their junk the used for cover (old cars, dumpsters, ect.) They even had a concrete barricade at the entrance of the alley. When the police cars were in position, they all got out and ran for cover (me and the cops). I told them a plan I had just thought of, then ran off to do it. Charging right for the center of the alley, I leaped up on the barricade the sprang forward while actually flipping backwards. As I was in the air, I took out six gangsters hiding behind their cover. I landed and continued moving forward. When my pistols were empty, I took a shot gun off a guy as he was falling (I had just slit his throat with another gangsters knife). From there it wasn't long before I was at the end of the alley. All of the gangsters were now facing me, away from the entrance to the alley. The cops came in easily and arrested any who were still alive (there were no wounded). 13 arrested and 22 dead. This was NOT my fist fight.

On the way back to the station, I saw blood coming out of my armor. When we arrived, I took it off and found some buck shot had made it through multiple parts of my armor and was stuck under my skin. We removed all the shot promptly (or rather, I took out my knife and did so). A bullet had also peirced my arm, right through the bicep. It seemed like a fairly small hole, all things considered. That was the most exciting point yet in this travel. I awoke a few days later.