After finishing the near-zero progress sweep, the young man turned his head to look at the general store behind him. The storefront was old and run down, the merchandise was meager and scarce, with only a handful of customers each day. The rickety wooden sign above swayed precariously, and the cartoon octopus painted on it had faded so badly that its shape was almost unrecognizable.,A dull, alcohol-laced voice crept from the doorway: "Slacking off again Don't you want your pay",Three men in leather jackets, reeking of alcohol, burst into the general store. The one in the front, with green hair and a mohawk, surveyed the shop, spitting out his toothpick.。