Chapter 1: The Root Of All Problems

  Jake glared at the computer screen, the harsh light reflecting off his tense expression. It was already 7 PM. His usual quitting time. Most of the graphs on the screen bloomed in vibrant green. Marking that at least seventy percent of today’s trades had landed in the profit zone.

  The calculations confirmed the notion. As a staggering total revenue of fifty-seven thousand dollars rolled in. Nothing earth-shattering for the amount of money managed, but respectable all the same. But more important was his slice of that pie. The man was about to receive a solid fifteen percent, amounting to a significant sum of eight thousand five hundred fifty dollars. For a single working day.

  Another decent day. The man thought to himself with a light smile. This was the end of his third year at Bridge Finance Consulting. Where Jake had built an impressive track record that had not gone unnoticed by upper management. They eagerly wanted to elevate him to higher roles, tempting him with enticing offers of promotion and fat paychecks.

  Yet, he opted to stay firmly planted as your regular active trader, requesting only a slight increase in his payout percentage fee, making it the highest among his colleagues. Their attempts to coax him into the executive suite were met with stubborn refusal time and time again. Still, they persisted, for some time.

  But Jake held his ground. Even more so with a stunning performance. He managed to shatter records. With over two hundred thousand dollars in profit earned solely through matters scalping, he broke the decade-standing previous achievement. And that was what he used as his ultimate weapon. As he was finally left to his own devices, granted the freedom to contact the CEO at will should a promotion ever beckon to him.

  Office chatter buzzed endlessly about him, filled with whispers as new hires flitted in and out of the firm like in a boiling cauldron. Some of them met swift terminations, others ascended the ranks, but Jake had become a living legend of sorts. Evoking intrigue among the staff. He was unfazed by the whispers, always in his zone.

  The man was like clockwork. He showed up every morning at eight and departed precisely at seven. Greeting his screens, burying himself in the process. Ever reliable, never a moment late to start or finish, he thrived on routine. And the aura was unmatched.

  From a distant corner of the window desk, Jane observed him closely. Hunched slightly over her stock of papers. As a fresh trainee, she hadn’t interacted much with the man, but something about that person captivated her curiosity. She considered him to be magnetic, evoking strange emotions within her.

  Yet, at first glance, he appeared to be just like any other ordinary office worker in finance. His suit was sharp, impeccably tailored, as it hugged his form flawlessly. The man stood at an average height, with a decent, manly build that seemed perfectly suited for the corporate world.

  Still, that was merely a surface-level impression. Looking closer, one could notice a long scar snaking from his left eye down to the base of his cheek, faint but visible, hinting at a backstory of struggles, or maybe something else. The man never talked about his past. But no one could deny that the calculated coolness in his deep brown, sunken eyes screamed, “I’ve seen things.”

  While the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt revealed sinewy forearms engrained with the calluses of hard work. A clear indication of his relentless commitment to physical training off work. With his knuckles bearing the marks of a fighter. Speculations at the office were about weightlifting, climbing, and boxing.

  The man himself only admitted to doing some weights. A criminal, and blatant understatement. Whenever he rose, you could tell that his suit had been tailored not just for style but to accommodate the impressive bulk of his broad shoulders and back.

  He wasn’t overly muscular, but there was an undeniable aura of strength that hinted at long years spent honing his physique. A perpetual stubble accentuated his rugged features, and his square jaw was as solid as if carved of stone, imparting a manly appeal.

  Although he was always courteous, an underlying menace radiated from him, particularly when he was engrossed in his work. In moments of intense focus, he transformed into a predator, fully absorbed in tracking down lucrative deals, waiting patiently for the right moment to pounce.

  His instincts and anticipation flowed naturally, while distractions merely fell away, as he became entirely consumed by the hunt. It was a captivating display to witness. Another one in his bottomless bag of skills.

  Like any other day, as soon as that clock struck seven. Jake methodically closed all his applications and powered down his work computer, slinging a sleek black backpack over his shoulder as he exited the office. They shared an elevator with Jane, as he did not utter a word. The ride took them down to the parking lot, where his prized and beloved possession awaited.

  “Have a good one. See you tomorrow!” The man said in a warm, even voice.

  “A-kh... See you!” Jane was barely able to catch up for an answer, as she only saw the man’s receding back in the black suit.

  And the main reason was a striking black motorcycle. Fully customized 1.2-liter cruiser from Barch Motorcycles. A custom name that commanded respect and was known for serving high-profile clients. Even the renowned actor Eanu Deevs had laid a hand in crafting the specifics of Jake's special order.

  With his silver helmet snugly fastened and black leather gloves adhering perfectly to his hands, he fired up the engine with a mighty rev. A vibrant, resonant roar burst forth as he readied himself for an electrifying ride. Giving a few more taps on the gas to get the engine heated and liquids well circulated within the system.

  He was moving fast. The crisp early autumn air rushed in, invigorating him as he sped through the streets. It was an intoxicating blend of excitement. The pull of the cool breeze mingling with the fierce warmth radiating from the engine underneath. Making him feel as though he were soaring atop a magnificent, fiery dragon, its strength wrestling against him. Jake could never grow weary of such a feeling.

  As long as he could remember, dreams of a powerful motorcycle played in his imagination, unfolding time and time again. Until the day he made that dream come true. This was an experience far superior to any idle moment he spent behind the wheel of a car.

  Dressed in a sharp corporate suit, Jake cut an incongruous figure against the backdrop of the booming city. A rider on a custom bike, amidst a sea of pedestrians and fellow motorists.

  The metal steed roared louder as he opened up more gas, unleashing untamed power. Yet an elegant beast that was. Each gear shift felt as smooth as silk. Each loud rev propelled him forth: second, third, the dynamic was unmatched, the balance was pristine. While the power output increased, the traction grew. The man felt as if he was truly flying over the road.

  The scent of gasoline and exhaust vapors was in stark contrast to the sterile air of his day spent trapped in an office. Cocooned by purifiers and air conditioners, it was like an invigorating breath of life. Those were the distinctive smells he had long cherished.

  He continued to gain speed, obviously breaking the limit by quite a considerable margin. All the streets, traffic, and lights blurred into mere streaks of color before his eyes. An elation surged through him. The rush of open speed was a thrill that was untouched by anything he had ever known.

  Somehow this experience always ignited a primal joy within him that felt entirely boundless. He felt free, untamed, unleashed.

  But, as all good things do, his ride culminated way too abruptly. In just a mere fifteen minutes, he found himself already gliding into the parking lot of his apartment complex. Damn, already?! Should I try riding slower sometime? Pfft! What a joke! Who am I kidding?! The man chuckled.

  A butler clad in a tailored suit greeted him by the entrance, while a tall, clean-shaven receptionist monitored the myriad of screens behind his desk. With a friendly nod, he inquired about Jake's day, handing over a stack of correspondence. There was nothing of note, save for one small envelope. Jake pressed around it with his fingers. Feeling a plastic device sealed inside.

  This is finally the day! Jake thought to himself while riding the elevator to the top. While the soothing lounge music accompanied his ascent.

  The penthouse on the 30th floor was the pride of the building, a fitting tribute to his accomplishments as a trader. He still felt a genuine sense of pride and accomplishment for such recognition.

  Spanning an impressive 240 square meters, the apartment boasted three spacious bedrooms, panoramic views of the bustling, illuminated city below. And state-of-the-art smart home integration. With the built-in programming of the highest standards.

  Among its many treasures, the most important for Jake was the wine cellar with precise humidity and temperature control. And an expansive classic wooden office with a two-level library.

  An actual sanctuary of sorts. Those were of the few aspects that kept him anchored to this space, which was too lavish for his taste. Were it not for that, he might have considered selling or renting the place altogether.

  Here, as long as he could read his favorite fantasy and sci-fi novels with a glass of cold whiskey, slowly smoking a cigar. He was bearing with it. Just… Barely.

  As the day drew to a close, Jake couldn’t shake the sense of overwhelming overflow that he felt. Sure, the company’s generous stock option plan was a nice perk, but everything offered felt like a fancy cage. Well, don’t I have just enough? My life is great. Most can only dream about it. I’m set for hundreds of years. Yet… why do I keep doing this?! He poured himself a glass of exquisite whiskey, twisting his face.

  Everyone at the helm of the company, the multimillionaires, and even billionaires, heard about him and held him in high regard. They still wanted him, but not as extensively. They all still hoped to coax him into the upper ranks of management, promising even more prominence and power.

  More offers only irritated him more. Jake remained rooted in his resolve to cut them off. As he was weighed down by burdens he could never share. If only those personal matters could be cast aside, he would leap at the chance to ascend the corporate ladder like a hungry lion. Or so the man thought.

  For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself that daydream. What would life be like indulging in whiskey, clubs, and other earthly pleasures nearly every night?

  Could he start a family, exchange vows, and leave behind the confines of short-lived affairs? Was there something more? Could this strange vision become his reality one day? Huh, a wish, a dream. It’s all nothing… Not until I finish what I’ve started. There is room for distractions! He pressed his temple, as he reminded himself.

  Though an entire decade had already slipped through his fingers. Maybe, just maybe, it was the time to invest everything he had saved into a business of his own.

  Yet, he quickly realized the magnitude of such an endeavor; going at it alone felt like a battle over a slippery slope. Enough of this pondering! He brushed it off. It was past time to shift focus to the task ahead.

  He opened the armored, encrypted laptop, inserting the flash drive with a steady hand. The screen illuminated with the decryption progress. The man sipped the drink, hovering over it as seconds were ticking away.

  Forced to pour another glass of fine whiskey, he cranked up the volume on his massive paper-thin TV, letting the rock music pulsing through the room drown out the distractions. And every other sound.

  As the data unfurled before him, the screen filled with a comprehensive layout of the warehouse. With additional detailing of entry points, security systems, and the exact locations of the guards patrolling the area. Every scripted operational time frame, every concealed stash. Everything was meticulously crafted. All the intelligence is designed for a single purpose.

  Hours passed as Jake immersed himself in the mission details. Memorizing every nuance, visualizing the path he had to take. Running continuous simulations in his mind of various scenarios, ways of entry, potential obstacles, and complications.

  After a few hours, he was finally satisfied with his preparations. As he unplugged the USB drive, it self-destructed with a puff in his hand. The internal circuit self-severed in a final act of precaution.

  Stepping into his wardrobe, Jake pushed aside his tailored suits, revealing a hidden compartment. A touch screen flickered to life as he placed his hand on the scanner, which analyzed his palm and granted him authorization.

  Beyond the second hidden door lay a treasure trove of specialized equipment. A multitude of body armor suits, exoskeletons, bats, knives, anti-stab enforcement plates, and an impressive array of handguns for every, even the most exquisite taste.

  He adjusted the protective gear, tucking hidden knives around his ankles for easy access. His bag quickly filled with flash bangs, gas grenades, night vision goggles, cutting-edge decryption devices, and more supplies.

  The hint of anxious thrill coursed through him. Today was the time he would undeniably confront them. After this, the 'Fairy Gang' would no longer haunt the shadows. They would finally face the consequences of their actions. Jake steeled himself. He breathed in deep, slowly. Anticipating the moment they would feel his wrath. You can’t escape my judgment now! He threw his fist in the air, clenching it as hard leather gloves crackled.

  The echoes of heritage washed over him, a haunting reminder of his days as a special forces operator. Memories of military precision and brotherhood surged forth, prompting a warm, yet dry and nostalgic smile to grace his thin lips.

  Despite his simple fondness for the memories, he had dedicated the last decade to even more intense training. That was in hand-to-hand combat, reconnaissance tactics, closed-quarters combat, engineering, and handgun handling or shooting; he improved it all. The man felt more mature, more skilled, at his peak.

  A simple thought crossed his mind. The decline will inevitably come. Just a few more good years left. The man sighed.

  As he additionally poured countless resources into state-of-the-art gear and weapons. On this day he felt. Not in vain. Ever since he started, he had already taken down at least four small gangs and disposed of a dozen corrupt officers.

  Yet, the Fairy Gang stood on a wholly different level. A formidable, independently operating branch of a vast mafia conglomerate. And for a single man to penetrate their heart. Demanded a certain brand of madness. Yet, that was a fitting description of him; he had never considered himself normal. This was his move, a culmination of sorts. From all those years of struggles, wounds, failures, and preparation.

  Now clad in shadow, he slipped into a camera blind spot in the underground parking, swiftly donning his gear, his face cloaked in a dark balaclava. Eyes wide and focused.

  The emergency exit seemed like a portal. A portal to another world. A world engulfed in danger. Nearby, a black sedan with heavily tinted windows stood casually, bearing just enough resemblance to a rich college kid’s car to draw no suspicion. It was the perfect cover, blending seamlessly among a sea of similar vehicles all over the streets.

  The dim watch screen flickered 2 AM. The darkness enveloped the warehouse at the port like a heavy shroud. Through the lens of his night vision goggles, Jake monitored the guards' movements, his heart slowly pounding with expectation, as he retrieved his communicator from a secured stash nestled between two metal containers.

  He turned it on, plugged his headphones in, and pressed the buttom. The humming sound of static in his ear stopped as he put it close to his face and said, “Fairy Eater, comms check!”

  Nearly immediately the line came alive. “Hollow Snake receiving, loud and clear. Great! You’re in place. The situation?” Followed the cold response.

  “Reporting. Point secured, no changes.” He responded, his vision still fixed on the guards in his lens.

  “Received. No change of plan, for now. Hollow!” The voice mentioned.

  “Could we have opted for something less cringe with these codenames? I feel like I’m in some over-the-top video game.” Yet Jake was sure he knew exactly why the codenames were chosen this way. Still, his face tensed.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Will think about that. Next time.” The answer resounded. Unsatisfactory, just as always.

  “Pff, fine, this is more than exhausting. Receiving a clear picture. The intel was spot on.” He pulled and switched to the thermal and scanned the area once again. As he saw the heated air coming out from the hidden vents. Nothing new.

  “Affirmative. Let’s hope it stays that way. You know yourself what we sacrificed for this moment. I need you in peak condition. Don’t screw this up!” Suddenly, the voice on the other side took a serious twist. That was a clear indication that playtime was over.

  “D-time unchanged?” For some reason Jake’s heart felt more erratic than usual, maybe because of the light rain starting and a cold breeze.

  “Confirm. Proceed with the mission.” Was the man with the low voice's last response.

  “Roger that. Time of start at two-oh-five, Hollow Snake, out!” Jake put the communicator to the side, turning it off. In a matter of seconds, the circuit self-destruct sequence triggered, rendering the device useless. These self-destruct features are surely useful. Let’s hope I will not end up like this too. He chuckled to himself at the thought.

  Yet a small flicker of suspicion crossed Jake's mind. Why was Felon so unusually professional today? He couldn’t recall a single instance of him being this on point. An uneasy feeling coiled in his gut but was swiftly dismissed. As the man attributed it to the weight of the task at hand and the burden of the losses they had suffered. Yeah… must be! He left it at that.

  The soft tapping of rain on metal caused slight uneasiness for the two guards stationed at the gate. As one offered another a smoke, a muted sound of a silencer crossed the air, and two lifeless bodies fell into the shadows perfectly outside the reach of the projector lights.

  Down below, inside the plain security room, monitors filled with screens displaying images from around the site. A bored guard was idly munching on chips, barely paying any attention. He could not see nor feel the shadow that appeared behind him. A stream of hot blood filled the plastic bag in front, soiling the snacks.

  Jake tampered with the security controls to prevent any unnecessary system activations. That was easy work with the decoding electronic pad. Once connected to the main server control, he also downloaded the previously stored camera footage to a local server. Ok, let’s send this to that cloud. Officer Felon will know what to do with it. And now, let’s disable all the camera recordings. The devices signaled a success.

  All was just as he predicted. The security was pretty tough, but naturally, due to overreliance on alarms and technical devices, the guard thugs became much too complacent.

  Still, Jake knew that he couldn't let his guard down. A single mistake would easily cost him his life. There was no doubt. This was real combat, not some stupid games. As he slipped from inside the room unnoticed.

  He felt as if the thrill was filling him. He could feel the joy of adrenaline pumping through his veins. But he immediately took control over his heartbeat. Making it nice and steady. His muffled movements were one with the shadow.

  The perfect knowledge of the sound waves spread through the air allowed him to choose the right angles for both attacks and approaches. None of his victims ever suspected him coming. The two guards lay dead behind in the pools of their blood, throats slit.

  Like a dark patch, he swiftly appeared behind another one walking the corridor, dragging the dangling cadaver into the corner with a swift, strong, rehearsed motion. The person was long dead before he leaned the body over the wall, crossing the hands.

  Appearing from around the sharp turn, he blinded the next one with the flashlight, before driving the knife right into his eye. Opening the door and shoveling the body inside so fast that not a drop of blood painted the corridor floor.

  Every one of his reflexes was sharpened, every motion carved into his muscle memory. His entire body and tools lived in synergistic cohesion. Those were all flawless traits of a true professional trained to kill undetected. A soldier trained to dispose of an enemy without a hint of emotion inside his deep, empty eye.

  No one could ever believe that highly successful financial trader was acting as an agent and street vigilante. All to rid his city of scum. It was something one could read inside a comic book. But for him it was all real. And there was a real meaning behind his every action.

  As that Fairy Gang was a part of the Big Tree Mafia. And every time he recalled it, heavy thoughts preyed on his mind. Would Steven be alive if I had followed him into the Police Academy instead of picking finances?! It struck him the moment his cold blade met another neck.

  Laying the dead body down without a sound, the eyes of the thug devoid of any light, Jake’s thoughts swirled. Rest easy, my friend. Today I will be one step closer to avenging your death. Clarissa and Emily are already well-off. Just as I promised you that. I made sure. Both of them will be able to live the best lives, as much as it is possible without you. I'm still sorry you are not with them, brother…

  He felt a light tug at his chest. But he had to put those thoughts to rest, for now. As he moved through the warehouse. Only a trail of dead bodies remained behind him. Each one nothing but a villain who did not deserve to live.

  Quietly, like a discreet warrior, he cleared each room. He did not intend for anyone to leave this place alive. With complete control over the surveillance system on his tablet, tracking their movements and planning his every step was kid’s play for him.

  But the main challenge was still ahead. It awaited him below. On the specially constructed sub-basement level, where the main operation base was cleverly hidden. Based on the intel, the actual higher-ups of the Fairy Gang were having their private meeting today.

  Such crucial information had come at a heavy cost. Officer Felon told him that they had lost at least four good officers who had been infiltrating the gang before obtaining this piece of information. Ben Felon was Steven’s friend from their academy days. And Jake was surprised to learn that they both had served in the special unit 'Serpent.' Just different groups.

  It’s so convenient to have a contact in the force. Relying on him made this mission possible. Jake thought, glancing at the digital clock. Time was running short. Only an hour was left before the SWAT team would start their assault on the location. But the descent was still long.

  He finally arrived at the main underground base level. Shining metallic double doors blocked his way after thirty minutes of navigating rooms and ladders, a dozen more dead. Jake pulled a special decoding device from his pocket. He told me this will work.

  The man slammed the side of his fist into the touch panel. An array of wires exposed itself. He connected the device, and soon a successful decoding worm began its work. The percentage on the small screen skyrocketed to a hundred percent in mere moments. Now he had to act swiftly and even more deadly.

  As soon as the door swung open, three thugs inside collapsed, gone. The siren echoed loudly through the hallway, and within moments, at least ten guards sprang from rooms and took cover. Men with loaded guns were hiding around corners and behind columns.

  “Well, it’s right about showtime!” He muttered in a calm voice with a smirk while putting on a gas mask.

  Leaning from the side of the opening, Jake threw three grenades into the corners with precision. Thick white clouds of gas flooded the entire corridor. Simply charging forward while the thugs struggled inside the haze.

  Their vision was obstructed. The thick gas compromised their breathing, dulling their senses. Jake moved with feline reflexes and speed. Staying lower to the ground for better vision, he silently counted in his head, one by one, as bodies fell to the ground. Anything they could see were only the disturbances within the white clouds before the life left them.

  Fast on his feet, fast with his guns, and fast with his knives. It was like he toyed with all of them, choosing the weapon of death on a whim. Rotating the elements of doom. A bullet to the head, a knife to the heart, a slit throat, or a broken knee and twisted neck. It did not matter to him. The result was still the same. Death!

  The surge of elation, a twisted excitement, coursed through his entire body. During a fight to the death, one's hidden tendencies become harder to suppress. Those would resurface much easier.

  To many it would seem like the man enjoyed the killing. While it was mainly the thrill. That feeling of being on the edge, fighting with your life on the line. Those were the highest stakes one can play with. Something he found out very fast in his first-ever combat engagement during his military service.

  That wild spirit rising deep within his soul, the feeling of besting your enemy in a fight to the death, was forever engraved in his sense of himself. He could never get rid of it or escape it. All he could do was suppress the thirst for blood, but not entirely get rid of it. Just as his beloved brother in arms taught him. Something he cherished as it helped him tremendously in his everyday life.

  But then, Steven was killed as an on-duty agent while infiltrating one of the gangs ten years ago. All the while, because of the information leak, his wife and daughter were compromised. They had to enroll in the special security program, hindering their normal lives. All on top of losing a husband and a father.

  And that was when Jake decided to act. After suppressing his feelings for years. He had them on the loose once again. And when fighting the gangs himself during the night outing, he got wounded hard. That was when he met Fellon, one of the few friends from the force Steven mentioned to him.

  Thereafter they had worked together for many years. And, finally, after far too long a a time of disposing of just small fry, a big stage operation, Fairy Dust, was born.

  The recollection in his mind stopped after the final kill. Twenty-five, five more than expected. Stragine. Oh, this one’s still breathing? Guess I still need to work on my knife-switching skills, Jake counted seconds in his head as he remarked, ending the convulsing man’s life with a shot to the head.

  As the gas slowly cleared, the floor became a grisly display of blood, scattered remnants of brain matter, and spent magazines. The man removed the mask from his sweat-drenched face. A few locks of now greasy brown hair stuck to his forehead.

  Jake routinely checked his ammunition. Last mags, 15 bullets total. He could not take extra ammunition with him. He had to be as light as possible to deal with things quickly as a single man and move fast. Extra weight would become a hindrance. Everything was meticulously calculated.

  Only a single door stood between him and his destination. This was the final push. The moment he had trained for, the true testament to all of his skills.

  But to even think that a single man would be disposing of a powerful gang that operated in the city, controlling the port for decades. Blood money, drugs, human trafficking, forced prostitution, and even organ trade. The list of their crimes was truly endless. The shivering disgust he felt just by thinking about it quickly turned into a burst of focused rage.

  I will pave the road to hell for all of you, you sick bastards! His conviction was as strong as ever.

  Retrieving an explosive charge from his bag, Jake set the timer for thirty seconds. Beyond that reinforced metal door lay an uncharted territory. There were no cameras inside since that was the bosses' personal meeting room. He knew he had to proceed with extreme caution. There was no doubt that they were already fully aware of his capabilities. The only question was about how good the men inside were.

  When the timer struck zero, a thunderous explosion tore through the door, twisting the metal and creating a gaping opening. With a weapon gripped tightly in each hand, Jake dove into the dimly lit room covered in smoke, and shrapnel cracked dark tiles.

  He was already foreseeing the guards’ positions. As fate would have it, two men had stationed themselves on either side of the entrance. Their eyes were wide with shock as he burst into view. In a flurry of trained precision, his trigger fingers moved, unleashing four shots. The crimson spray from the back of their heads decorated the walls like hasty brushstrokes from a deranged artist.

  It should have been the end of it, yet Jake instinctively darted towards a large bar at the back of the room, seeking refuge behind a sturdy column just beyond the fancy brown leather sofa.

  The atmosphere was thick with tension as he tuned his hearing, acutely aware he wasn’t alone, not yet. An unsettling feeling prickled at his consciousness. Something feels off… Damn, there should be no more than just two. He thought through the silence, hearing both this heavy breathing and drumming heartbeat. An ominous pressure loomed large.

  He jerked as he heard a faint burbling. Relieved immediately that it was the air that left one of the dead man’s lungs, finally relaxing.

  Time was slipping through his fingers like sand. Leaning hard on the column with his back, Jake peeked at his watch. Only fifteen minutes remained before the inevitable reinforcements would arrive. And he still had to make it to the backup entrance. To be able to slip away before the SWAT team stormed in.

  Must leave not a single one alive. The man reminded himself while peeking cautiously from his hiding spot.

  There! He spotted the bar door slightly ajar, a narrow gap barely open. The decision was made instantly. This was his chance.

  He feigned a throw, tossing one gun to his left while catapulting himself to the right, sliding toward the opening. In that instant, a figure erupted from behind the bar, going wild with gunfire at the very spot where Jake's weapon had just landed. Bullets digging into the tiled floor with loud crackling.

  Sliding low right through the gap with deadly precision, Jake shot, squeezing off three bullets that shattered the man’s ankles. The agonized scream reverberated against the walls as the body crumpled to the floor, allowing Jake to dispatch him with a few more ruthless rounds, right in the middle of his head. Eyes wide open with pain and surprise.

  The silence fell. Jake exhaled a sigh of relief. Everyone was finally down.

  Wasting no time, he quickly jerked to his feet, running through the room inspecting the bodies. The first two were definitely the notorious “Spooky” and “Goof,” two of the main operational bosses. The third man, however, was a stranger. There was no intel about him from Felon. Puzzled, Jake rifled through the dead man’s pockets.

  “What the actual fuck?! Shit! This dude is a cop?!” Recognition hit him hard. It was one of the agents Felon had used to infiltrate the gang. Cold sweat ran down his back as he held the badge in his hands.

  Before he could even make any sense out of it, he heard footsteps crunching on the broken glass and tiles behind him, and Jake spun. His gun at the ready.

  “Hello, Jake,” said a familiar low voice. A tall figure in a balaclava stepped into the room, flanked by five fully geared SWAT operatives, rifles pointed towards him. Fuck…

  “Felon?! What the hell?! What are you doing here? The team wasn’t due for at least fifteen minutes. Why the sudden urgency?” Jake tried to act surprised, but his features showed something different, twisting in anger.

  “Ah, give me a break. Just tired of waiting. You know exactly why I’m here. I don't see you as foolish enough not to grasp the situation you are currently in.” Followed the man’s dismissive reply as he scratched the back of his head with the gun and shrugged. The SWAT operatives took their positions, covering the angles and blocking any way of retreat.

  “Why don’t you tell me then? Why are you tying up loose ends?!” Jake's voice slightly trembled before he could regain his composure.

  The man laughed and applauded as he threw his hands wide. He carefully, step by step, crackling, got closer.

  “Precisely. You see, someone just happened to kill an officer during a mission," the man added. Jake couldn't see his entire expression but easily sensed a hidden smirk behind the mask as he saw it twirling.

  The blood boiled inside him, and his head pulsated with anger. He could no longer take it, but he had to find the way out.

  “You fucking bastard! What do you gain from this?” He sought to stall for time. Jake knew that he only had five bullets left. While the other gun was out of reach. Thoughts raced as he strategized, but he knew the odds too well. A single man against five seasoned operatives and an officer. It was all stacked against him, no jokers in his sleeves. Chances were as thin as a single hair. Still, he assessed everything with a cool head.

  “Hah, typical you, typical Jake the righteous. I will entertain you a little. While you still weasel and look for a way out when there is none. Stalling for time? Hah!” The man laughed loudly. And continued on.

  “Don't be so stupid! I’ve worked with you for quite a while. You know there's nothing you can do. And my reasons? Simple.” The man slowly articulated his answer, so Jake could even see his covered lips moving. “Money, and lots of it. All of this allows me to retire early. Not everyone is as smart as you to live the successful, rich life. Still, it boggles me all the time. Why did you choose to do this instead of enjoying a luxurious life? You are simply a fool!” Felon's tone was condescending while he clicked with his tongue a few times. He stood there drilling the man in front with his gaze. Looking satisfied and proud.

  “You know damn well why! You fucking piece of horse shit!” Jake snapped and spat on the floor. An ally turned opponent in front of him. And for what?! Pathetic!

  “Yes, I do, I do. I really understand.” He waved his gun in the air as he looked around and at the SWAT operatives. “Well… That’s why I’m gifting you a quick and painless exit. How do they say it in the books you read? Ah, yes! Saraba, Jake.” The officer said as he pointed his gun towards the man.

  Time seemed to slow down in Jake's mind as he processed a whirlwind of scenarios, each one painted with the stark red reality of his blood drawn to the very last drop.

  So, like this?! So be it! Deep down, he was a warrior first. A true soldier at heart. In that fleeting moment, he dismissed the rising wave of emotions threatening to cloud his judgment and reflexes.

  He took a fast, loud breath, steadying his heart and sharpening his focus, bracing himself for whatever fate lay ahead. Reflexes honed by years of training and a cool demeanor were his allies. The sharpest cold clarity he ever felt washed over him as his gaze steadied on the targets before him.

  In a lightning-fast motion, he jerked his gun and pulled the trigger before any human eye could comprehend the movement. Astonishing lightning-fast reflexes in their peak form.

  The nearest SWAT operative crumpled to the ground, his face a mangled mess of destruction, before he could even register the threat. Lights out!

  With no time to pause, Jake dropped to the floor while firing at the second and third operatives. Their only response was a split-second adjustment of their red-dot sights. A futile attempt at defense. Their triggers cranked while his sang. They met the same grim fate as their already fallen comrade.

  Using his legs like springs, he propelled himself forward from behind the column, narrowly avoiding the panicked gunfire. Bullets ricocheting left and right, one slightly grazing his leg, drawing a ribbon of blood.

  While the last two members of the SWAT team had more time and were quick to judge, they were simply not fast enough. All they managed was to lay fire at the spot where Jake had just been, sending bullets ricocheting wildly off the marble floor.

  Dust filled the air like a thick fog, obscuring the aftermath as Jake’s final shots rang out, delivering their deadly verdict.

  And then. Silence. His weapon clicked empty.

  Heart pounding, Jake jump-sprinted, rolling over for the other gun hidden behind the sofa, ready to unleash chaos for one fine time. But as he lunged for his pistol, a boot slammed down on his hand, pinning it to the ground.

  “Hah, wow, wow! Take it easy, pal! Yet this is so much more than I expected,” Felon’s voice sneered, oozing mockery.

  “Damn, you were always the best, you know that? Thanks for picking more trash for me. Goodbye. But for real now. Hold no grudge in the afterlife.” He removed his mask, leaning his ugly face with a scar closer to Jake’s. “Give my regards to Steven, that little bitch!”

  Just like that, the gun’s discharge erupted in front of Jake's tired face, the bullet finding its mark between his eyes.

  Everything turned crimson, then black, in a single instant. Lying on the floor in a pool of blood, he finally let out a slow, silent hiss as the lights flickered out in the broken tapestry.

  Darkness enveloped him, leaving no time for reflection. Everything was collapsing, slipping through his fingers. All his reality crumbled.

  And in an instant, the switch had been turned off. Pitch-black darkness engulfed him…

  Ah, so, that’s it. The death is so bothersome!

  W-wait… What is this weird dot of light?

  W-Why doesn't it just fade away?

  For how long?!…

  Thank you for getting through the first chapter. Expect this world and its prose to grow gradually alongside me. More revisions, polish, and refinements over time.

  Revision Progress: All the chapters of Volume 1 have gone through the basic revision. I will gather feedback for the final polish of Volume 1 that I will do in due time (Coming Jan 23rd).

  Revision Stages: The final revision for the RR version of this chapter is done.

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