One man seeks the answer, and doesn't like it when he gets it.
It's raining. Pouring, actually. Eric Erwin jr isn't used to being rained on. On a normal day, he would have someone holding an umbrella above him. But this isn't a normal day.
It's rare that Eric ever goes anywhere without a bodyguard. Daddy's orders. But Eric has been ignoring his father's orders for some time. Eric Erwin sr, billionaire extraordinaire, gave up his right to command his son the day he sent him away to boarding school - over nine years ago.
Eric still remembers the silent halls. Studious teenagers bent over their paper. The scribble of pens. Eric loathed writing. He still does, in a way.
The street isn't what Eric is used to. It's a fairly anonymous street in a fairly anonymous city. There are no A-list celebrities to brush shoulders with. Perhaps due to the rain, there's nobody around.
Soggy newspapers blow down the pavement. Eric shudders. In a perfectly-fitting, thin suit - he's freezing. He strides purposefully towards an old wooden door that seems somewhat out of place within its fairly modern surroundings.
Eric tentatively pushes a buzzer next to the door. He wipes his finger on his blazer as the door clicks and he pushes his way inside.
Stairs. Eric is, of course, familiar with staircases. But none like this. Each rotting, wooden step creaks. It would be impossible to sneak up these stairs.
They lead to another wooden door, with a brass number 0 adorned upon it. The door is illuminated by a single lamp, dimly revealing the ancient pale green wallpaper. From outside, the sounds of the rainstorm can be clearly heard. Eric raises his hand to knock on the door, but it is rapidly opened - the weather-beaten face of a middle-aged man staring back at him with cold, brown eyes.
"Mr Erwin?" He asks. "I wondered when you would arrive."