Midas

Midas frowns down at the report, golden fingers crinkling the paper softly as he grips it. Anger swells inside of him. But beyond that, an emotion he refuses to name, regret? Sorrow? He's not sure and he doesn't want to dwell on it. There is no reason for him to replay the past and the people who reside in it, even if they cause him headaches here in the present. Still, as much as he wants to push the report to the side and ignore it, he can't. This particular ghost has come back to haunt him with a vengeance. An hour later, Midas walks down the street, a cigarette burning from his lips as his golden eyes flicker around. He's in the warehouse district, walking to his own warehouse where his stolen goods reside. This particular one has been broken into based on the report, Midas has decid