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Streets were narrow, covered with dirt. Walls lacked painting, except for the giant samples of graffiti.

Kyle, a dragon-bull bank employee, dressed with a suit and with a necktie around his neck, felt to be

out of place. He walked down those suburban alleys with his heart in the throat, fearing an assault in

plain daylight. He could saw men dressed like thugs with arms as wide as his own legs, definitely

capable of leaving him pretty dead with a couple of punches.

He would not be in such a place in normal conditions, but it was work: Kyle had to talk with the owner

of a certain establishment about the payment of a mortgage. The owner was running out of time and

he had not gone to the bank, ignoring several callings. The bank took actions then; the dragon-bull

was the very first.

Street after street, twist after twist, Kyle finally arrived to his destination: a little establishment with a

neon sign that said SMOKE BAR. The bank employee put his face into an expression of disgust when

he hypothesized what those letters should mean. Either way, he had work to do, the sooner he

finished it, the sooner he would leave, so he crossed the street and opened the door.

A thick cloud of smoke hit his nostrils, the nauseating smell almost made him faint. Several tables

arranged across the room, a bar was at one side with some chairs aligned to it, a group of men, all

smoking, were sat. Hard were their faces, strong the arms, perhaps with bigger circumferences than

those he saw on his way there, leather jackets as well as boots, with spike bracelets and necklaces

were what they had put on. Some of them did not have the arms covered, so Kyle could see tattoos

on the muscular limbs.

Everyone inside the room put the eyes on him when he entered. Hard looks were what he received,

fortunately it did not last for too long, for they went back to their own businesses. Kyle tried to breath

for relieving himself, but the smoke of the cigars impeded it, he coughed instead. He went to the bar

in silent, the bartender was there: a big brown bear, perhaps the strongest person in the room. His

ears and the snout were pierced, the leather jacket had SMOKE BAR written on it with red letters, a

tobacco was resting in his muzzle.

"Excuse me" Kyle whispered as soon as he sat on one of the chairs "Where can I find the owner of this

bar?"

"It's the one speaking" the bear grunted while cleaning a glass "What's up?"

"I'm Kyle, from the bank, and..." Kyle said, his case rested now on the bar.

"Oh, I guess it's cuz of the mortgage" the bear interrupted "My bad, 'been too busy to pay it. But I've

got the money here, listening to the conversation."

Kyle exhaled with relieve for these words. He might not have to return to this place anymore.

"Do I gotta give it now?" the owner asked. Kyle thought about confirming it at first, but when he

remembered where that establishment was located he reconsidered it again. It was very risky to walk

those streets with a high sum of money.

"I think it would be better if you, sir, deliver it yourself at the bank" he suggested.

"Shit, that's true!" the bear exclaimed. "You wouldn't last a minute with this amount in these streets."

Some laughs were heard in the room, but Kyle ignored them. Once he thought his task was fulfilled,

he decided to leave.

"Hey, boy!" the bear called him "You just arrived, stay for a while, relax, you look tired and stressed"

For some reason Kyle body felt without strengths, falling down to the chair once again. He suddenly

felt tired, as if he had not slept in days.

"See?" the bartender reassured "Bet you've got a lotta work back in the office."

"I do" Kyle tongue moved automatically.

"I knew it, boy" the bear said "Stay there for a while, 'till you think you can go."

The dragon-bull obeyed. His mind was in slow motion, as if a curtain of smoke covered it. Inhalation

after inhalation, lungs were as full of nicotine as those of the clients at the tables. Kyle eventually

stopped smelling the insidious odor of tobacco.

The bear handed a pack of cigarettes to Kyle who did not notice at first.

"Oh, I don't smoke" Kyle rejected them politely when he noticed the present.

"Oh, just one" the bear insisted "You're gonna see how good you'll feel"

Three more times the dragon-bull rejected the offer, but the owner insisted each one of them. Perhaps

this insistence, as well as the narcotic effect of the air in the local, finally convinced the young man.

He took the pack and opened it, drawing one cigarette. He did not have a lighter, so the bartender

lighted it for him. When the smoke of the cigarette entered his mouth and into the lungs his mind shut

down. A sudden wave of relaxation invaded his body as if he had visited a spa. Another one, and the

memories of the day at the bank, his walk around the neighborhood looked distant, harmless.

"It definitely feels good" Kyle said while a cloud of smoke exited through his mouth.

"Told ya" the bartender said "That's on the house"

Kyle nodded to thank the bartender, continuing smoking. Soon that cigarette turned into a second,

then a third, later a forth until he smoked almost the half of the pack.

"You were under a lot of stress, boy" the bear commented.

"I think I'm going to take another"

"Sure" the owner handled another pack and Kyle payed, as well as asking for a lighter. He decided he

had rested enough time, so he left the bar, returning home. He did not pay attention to the place

anymore, his mind was still so numb to notice his surroundings.

The next day was hard. His boss commanded him to visit several clients that also had not pay their

debts. He also had paper work at the office which was overwhelming due to the fact that many of

Kyle' coworkers "asked" him to help them with their work, so, in the end, he nearly had to do

everything by himself.

Kyle finished his day as the last employee leaving the bank as usual, but this time he did not go directly

to his place, he went to the bar instead. Some kind of attraction force dragged him toward that place,

not realizing it until he was already inside the establishment.

The dragon-bull found the bar almost identical to what he saw the previous day. This time, men

gathered in there did not pay attention to him, perhaps some waved their hands softly to greet him,

but nothing more. Kyle sat by the bar, draw the pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighted one and

put it inside his mouth, inhaling the toxic, yet relaxing smoke.

Once the smoke arrived to his lungs, leaving nicotine to be carried to the brain, Kyle felt all problems

faded. Tiredness disappeared, mind become clear of negatives thoughts, stress diminished. When he

released the first puff, he felt as if problems were expelled as well.

"Finally some peace" he thought out loud "Those bastards never leave me some spare time apart from

lunch if best."

"Problems at work?" the bear asked while he approached the dragon hybrid.

"No" Kyle denied "Just the usual. It's just it's too stressful."

"I get you" The bartender put some glass after cleaning it in the cupboard "It must be hard to deal

with so many clients as well as paper work."

"You have no idea" Kyle said with another puff "Some people are true parasites, while other, like me,

are too soft to say no."

"Well, places like this serve so people like you come to release that bunch of stress and then go home"

the bear joked, Kyle smiled shyly as a response.

"If you need more help" The owner continued "You know where to find us"

This time Kyle' mouth drew a wider smile to thank the bear, showing the immaculate teeth behind

the lips. Then he continued smoking peacefully, one cigarette after another. After realizing he was

running out of them, he asked for another pack and went to his house, feeling completely relaxed so

he had a nice and deep sleeping.

Visiting the bar started to become part of his routine eventually. Days consisted in waking up, going

to work where he would end almost dead, visiting the bar and then coming back home. He was now

smoking a pack daily; he did not mind at first.

One day Kyle find out his pants loosen. The little chubby belly had effectively retreated back, leaven a

flatter abdomen. He did not consider himself as a fat person, just out of shame, with a small belly due

to his sedentary life-style.

The bartender suggested him to change the brand to something stronger after two months of visiting

the establishment. People by then greeted him cheerfully, he even knew some of them and had shared

some drinks. They were not that bad after all, he even preferred them instead of those at work who

were just a group of liars and false persons. Perhaps the men in the bar had been marked by the law,

but they were more trustworthy.

Kyle had gained some weight by the third month, but not in fat. His abdomen became completely flat,

as fat had disappeared showing abdominal muscles instead. He was shocked when saw the reflection

at the bathroom mirror: he was still thin, but now he was fitted. This realization turned on something

in his head: what if I help this change a little more?

He thought to look for gyms on the net, but he then remembered those guys at the bar that doubled

his size. They certainly visited some gym, so he thought it would be nice to give a try. It could be good

to tie the bonds with his new friends too.

That same afternoon he asked about what gyms the men at the bar visited. Kyle was surprised to know

that there was also a gym owned by the bartender and it was quite popular among the local folks. So

he asked the bear about a membership, who accepted without hesitation, but begged him to come

by the weekend, for he was working at the bar.

Weekend arrived and Kyle headed to the place the bartender indicated by sending the coordinates via

a text message. It was not too big. The gym was located in a building garage some blocks away from

the bar. There were several weights, machines and sand bags, as well as a little ring to fight. A mix of

smoke as well as sweat filled the interior of the gym. Muscular men grunted heavily with each

repetition, clangs were heard around as weight impacted the floor or other machines.

"Welcome, boy" the bartender approached Kyle dressed only with a tank covered with sweat "You

definitely came"

"Of course I was coming" Kyle replied with a smile in his face.

"Well" the bear said "Sign some papers and feel yourself at home. I'll ask somebody to help you"

Kyle did as the bartender said. After signing, both men shacked their hands. Kyle went with a wolf to

some of the machines, warming up before starting. That day, even though his trainer said to go easy,

Kyle ended up exhausted. They began with a full body routine, but with "light weight".

Kyle's personal trainer advised him to come three times a week as a start so his body began to adapt

and to strengthen himself. By the end of the month, sessions increased to four, splitting the training

into upper and lower body, then to five days a week with one muscular group per day.

The amount of food Kyle ingested per day gradually augmented as well as a consequence of his more

active live-style. He followed trainer's instructions to the letter: adding more protein and

carbohydrates. He eventually began to drink proteins shakes and other supplements as well.

The gym proved to be something he began to prefer too. He felt how the tension of the day were

erased with the training. The sound of the weight clanging as well as the grunts and breathing of his

bros acted as mantras that put his concerning to the back of his mind. The amount of cigarettes

diminished as well, but he did not quit the habit. In fact, after the two hours of heavy work out, he

smoked one cigarette to relax even more.

Kyle began to practice with the sand bags as well. He started to learn boxing technics and fought with

some men from time to time. Hitting things felted good, especially when he impersonated the bags as

people he hated, such as his boss, coworkers and some clients. He fantasized with punching them in

the face so they crumbled down to the floor to avenge the longtime of mistreating him and taking

advantage on his kind personality.

The year of intense training gave impressive results. Kyle had become massive, a true titan of muscle.

Veins could be seen through the scaly skin. Dorsalis grew to create a shell on his back, shoulders

widened until passing through doors had become a challenge. Arms reached almost 25 inches of

diameter, legs surpassed that size even further, turning into a pair of columns to sustain the weight

over them. Pectorals grew into plateaus, becoming meatier and stronger. The six-pack abdomen was

evident as well, for almost no fat covered them.

His boxing abilities also improved. Kyle had turned into a real challenge at the gym; he was fast, even

if his massive weight said the contrary. Only the most experienced in the gym could stand against him.

Body was not the only thing that changed during that period, but his personality as well. Kyle began

to do some changes to his wardrobe, it was due to the new size he was gaining at first, but eventually

it turned into something more. The bank employee bought many street fashion clothes such as leather

jackets, jeans, tanks, boots, chains and spiky bracelets and necklaces. He was even considering tattoos

and some piercings, but his current job impeded it.

He also found metal and punk music to be pleasant. Action movies or shows full of shuts and fights

with tough guys as principals also became his favorite ones. His apartment turned into a mess. Bottles

of beer, cigarette ends, garbage in general, covered the floor. The smell of tobacco impregnated the

place.

Kyle's social life improved as well. He began to spend Friday nights at clubs or discos more often.

Sometimes parties extended the entire weekend seldom resting by his home, going from place to

place and partner to partner. Head full with alcohol and nicotine to think clearly, the one between his

legs was in charge during that period.

Despite these radical changes, Kyle continued to go to work. Now, with his current body, people

though twice at least before asking him for something. However, the dragon-bull still did an enormous

amount of work in the office as well as the field, always doing what his boss ordered him.

One Monday, however, he overslept an entire hour. Sunday had been wilder than ever. It resulted to

be the bear's birthday, so he invited Kyle to a party, a proposal that was accepted of course. The event

was celebrated at the bar, which meant a lot of alcohol moving between the participants. Metal music

blasted, setting the bar on fire and the walls, trembling. Fine Cuban tobaccos were distributed as well,

which, with the help of the alcohol, put everyone in the skies.

Kyle managed to return to his apartment, but his drunken state was so serious that he did not hear

the alarm of the next day. Hangover hit him terribly, he could barely get up from bed. When he

checked the hour in his phone he panicked, eventually it stopped being bothered by it. His record of

punctuality at work was impeccable, plus, he really enjoyed the party last night. So he did his morning

routine without hurry, he even bothered in doing a nutritious and enormous breakfast to start the

day.

Kyle arrived at the bank calmly, without knowing what was waiting for him. He just walked some few

steps before meeting with his boss, whose face was red with anger.

"Are these hours to come to work?" the anaconda that was his boss yelled.

Kyle tried to explained, but the legless reptile did not let him.

"You are three hours late, three!!!" the boss continued, hissing unstoppably "You are a terrible

example of work behavior"

Bad behavior? Kyle thought. Wrath boiled inside him. He had had an impeccable record in his five

years working at the bank, how does this dork dare to say he was a bad influence.

"This should be punished" the anaconda continued with his nonsenses. Wrath continued to be

concentrated inside like lava inside a volcanic chamber.

"I should discount these hours to your salary" the anaconda muttered.

I'll recover them with extra hours, no big deal

"You are a terrible example for the new ones" the boss continued.

Whatever.

"I always knew you were a terrible worker..." the boss would have continued, but a punch in the face

that put to the floor impeded him. Kyle's wrath exploded like a volcano when he said those words.

"Don't you ever say that again, you little overfed worm!" Kyle growled "I always had arrived on time

to this fucking shit since I started. I'm always the last to leave cuz I do everyone's work. I go personally

to every fucking client's house and listen to their shitty crying every day. So don't fucking tell me I'm

the worst employee!"

"You... you dare to speak me like this?" the anaconda stammered.

"I fucking do" Kyle answered "Or would you like to speak in a different language" He asked showing

his punch, which made the snake trembled in fear.

"You... you are..." he did not end the phrase, for another punch sent him back to the floor,

unconscious.

"I quit" Kyle spitted the snake that was still on the floor. He stared menacingly to the rest of the one

in there who spoke no word to him. Then went to his office to take his stuff and go back to his

apartment.

As he renounced his job after being paid and had some money saved, he did not worry for a while.

Kyle spent most of his time at home, the gym or the bar, nights were for parties. His working out

sessions were longer, almost three hours, which ended up in turning him into a monster.

Three months later, Kyle decided that his long vacations should be put to an end. It was time to find a

job, money in his account would not last forever. So he started to look for something. However,

perhaps due to his intimidating presence, people took him for some ex-convict, so opportunities of

finding a new job diminished.

A Wednesday afternoon. Kyle was at the bar, drinking a Scotch and smoking, trying to put apart the

problems of finding a job.

"What's up, bro?" the bartender called him. Kyle did not remember when he started to call him like

that.

"You know, living" Kyle puffed some "Trying to find a job, not so lucky, though"

"I see" the bear said "What are you looking for?"

"Something at a bank, preferably, but right now, anything" Kyle answered, drinking some more Scotch.

The bartender smirked with that information.

"Would you like to work for me?" he asked. Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"What would I do?"

"Mainly, remembering and collect what people owe me" the bartender explained. Kyle was not very

interested at first.

"Of course, this is not like the bank where you have to stay silent. You can convince them with other

less legal methods"

Kyle got what the bear implied with that statement and started to like how it sounded.