Lawyer
Legacy Name: Ziero

We graduated from the same law school but he ended up with a successful practice and I turned out to be the used car salesman of the legal world.

So what if his rank was higher in school? I passed every class. I passed the bar. (Alright, on my second try. So what?)

Now he's got a trial that's going to get national news coverage. No doubt he'll pull off yet another miracle and get his guy off. It makes me want to sneak into his office in the middle of the night and torch his filing cabinets.

With my luck, the cops would show up while I was still crisping my fingertips with campsite matches.

The bell above the entry door jingles in a sickly way. Like everything else in my office, I bought it used.

No page from my secretary. That's when I remembered the latest one quit yesterday morning. I can't seem to keep anyone at the front desk longer than a week. They all think "Attorney At Law" equals "Man with giant bags of money". They say I don't pay a decent living wage.

Considering the volume of work they actually do; I'd say they're lucky I pay them at all.

The man in my lobby is decidedly underfed. Sunken eyes, baggy clothes from a secondhand shop and a scraggly blonde beard in need of a wash and trim.

I sympathize.

"Good morning, Sir. How can I help you?"

His eyes dart to my face, back to the door and return to me. "I've heard rumors you don't like this guy, Attorney."

A good lawyer would deny such a statement.

We've already established that I'm no good lawyer.

"You could say that."

"I can help you get revenge. I want to give you what it takes to put that fat slob he's representing away for good."

His briefcase is held together by tape and spit but the money inside is real enough.

Yeah, I took the bribe. I played cameraman as he posed as Client and snuck out Victim's bedroom window. I looked the other way when he intimidated witnesses into saying what he wanted them to say.

Now I'm sitting in a jail cell that makes my old office look like the Taj Mahal. My supposed partner in crime has his own digs at a maximum-security facility. His case might even make it to the Federal level. Rumor has it he's killed before.

I don't much care what happens to him but I'd hate to be the poor attorney who ends up defending me in court.