The Height of Control

Three wretches had their hands in the air, their bodies tightly pressed to the dark wall, their backs completely exposed to the captor.

Mark leisurely pointed his gun at them, but his mind was focused on amplifying their dread.

There were lives in the palm of his hand.

The thought brought him to an oddly satisfying feeling of dominance. Maybe this is what gang leaders feel like.

Now he simply needed to get them off his back for good.

But before that, there were things that needed to be checked.

"What gang are the three of you from?"

They trembled, too petrified to answer the question, instead waiting for one of their companions to talk instead.

Mark felt his eye twitch in annoyance. The last thing he wanted to do was waste time on these pieces of trash.

"Answer in three seconds or you all die."

They were only already scared straight, but Mark really didn't care.

If fear wasn't getting the job done, you simply aren't using enough of it.

The trio started to stutter, the nervous noises sounded like sewage rats scampering around.

"W- we aren't i- in one!"

Hearing the poorly uttered response, Mark simply shook his head.

What did he expect? The morons look to be from the central district of the city, they were more pompously arrogant than domineering.

His annoyance was climbing every second he spent amidst these scoundrels.

With a swift and silent approach, he put his gun to the head of the man who answered.

"Are you messing with me? Who goes around acting like they own the city without even being in a gang? You aren't lying to me, are you?"

"N-no sir!"

It felt slightly nice to be referred to with such an authoritative title. This might have been the first time.

Too bad it had to be from these vagrants and not from someone who he could at least respect.

After another annoyed sigh, Mark pressed the gun harder into the man's head before backing off.

A relieved sigh resounded through the alley before it was quickly stifled in fright.

With the background checks done, it was time to move onto the actual business.

"Get out the money, don't do anything funny."

He watched as all three each lowered one hand and fished wallets out of their pockets.

After collecting them, Mark deftly searched through his earnings while keeping his gun trained. He was sligtly satisfied with the amount he gained- it was almost worth the troubles from earlier in the day.

But while he was fishing through the money, he found a coin that was pierced through the middle.

'What the hell!? The Spheks?'

He looked up at the cowering three.

There was no way that this gang would accept such cowards.

Sadly, he needed to be concerned now that the coin appeared.

"You, beanpole, turn around."

The lanky man turned to face Mark, who was holding up the moonlit coin.

"What the hell is this? You guys just said that you aren't part of a gang."

It seemed as if the pierced coin was from a nightmare- at least from the look that the lanky scoundrel gave the coin.

"W-wait I'll explain!"

"I know you will goddamn it because I'll kill you otherwise."

Mark started a countdown. He was sick of their stuttering and just wanted to leave.

"We were recruited! Right, some guy came and gave us this coin. He said to collect money and give it to him by the end of the week!"

Their attempt to get out of the blame was almost as amusing as it was transparent. The lie was completely clear.

The truth was probably the simple story of three morons wanting to join a gang they found cool. But when the chance happened, they were coerced and threatened into grunt work.

In fact, they'll probably die soon if they continue to interact with the gang.

But oh well, hopefully this will teach them a lesson in trying to enter the underbelly of society, and that they would stay away from the vicious gang moving forward.

With nothing else to do, Mark simply decided to let them go.

Nothing good would come from killing them anyway.

"Get lost."

He watched as the figures slowly made their way from the alley, not wanting to provoke a gunshot from any sudden movement.

The scene was relieving in that Mark would be free from these stains on his day, but for some reason an unsettling sensation rested on him. It felt like something was trying to eat its way out of the gut.

"Wait."

The three froze.

Mark was not about to ignore his gut.

He made a mistake just now. It was the thinking he used to handle the situation.

There was no simple solution to this- letting them go came with some problems.

Firstly, these fools can pester both him and the nameless brunette more. Second, they can beat him up if they catch Mark at a bad time. Third, they knew where he worked.

They were connected to the goddamn Spheks, who were hunting Mark!

The unwieldy trio looked at Mark. They had just taken a taste of freedom and were unwilling to wait before they fully embrace it.

Alas, their young captor just had a change of mind.

"New plans."

A gunshot echoed through the alley, followed by the drop of a body.

After a momentary period of shock, the two turned around while Mark straightened his aim.

The scoundrels were making a mad dash to the street, trying to become obscured in the darkness of the night.

Another gunshot resounded through the passageway while the second man dropped.

This was Mark's solution. It would be more efficient in keeping himself safe rather than running the risk of keeping them alive.

Luckily he stopped right before entering the territory of the northern district. Doing these acts in such a secured place was nearly impossible.

Taking aim a third time, he fired the gun but was too far to aim accurately. The bullet ended up grazing the ear of the escapee.

Mark began to chase, but the man had already turned onto the street and was obscured by the darkness. Any further action would be dangerous in the lightless environment. He didn't want to end up like the callous man who chased him for miles a few days ago.

He clicked his tongue.

It seems like a loose end just opened up.