- A Functioning Cartel

*Thump!* The loud bang of a fist smacking the desk echoed, causing several people to jolt and slow down their breathing. A darkened, menacing figure sat behind an ebony desk adorned with the caricatures of a lion. 

The whole room's atmosphere turned heavy despite the festivity and colorful lights from the outside. There was a celebration, yet the oppressive pressure inside the room weighed down on everyone.

The menacing figure, their leader, was displeased.

The menacing figure adjusted themselves, smoking a vape. In front of the figure was a kneeling elderly man, fidgeting in his pose due to age and physical inactivity.

"Mr. Broderick Asis..." The menacing figure started. "Make no mistake, the reason why I've freed you was not because I value you but because I want to set an example out of you."

The elderly man gritted his teeth, seething yet fearful. "Please, it was out of my reach. There was nothing that I could've done!" The elderly man pleaded. "That store clerk was just like you—"

*Thump!* "No one is like me, no one can be me! What you saw was just a cheap trick!" The menacing figure interrupted, raising their voice. "Your job was simple: Keep your men in line!"

"I tracked the asshole for you, gave you more than enough men and money to kill him, but instead one of your men decided to take their own time with the asshole."

The menacing figure opened their arms. "Now look at where we are. He has gotten stronger and even found some annoying allies." They paused, massaging their temples. "To make things worse, thirty of our men are dead after that whole kidnapping stunt. I can't believe that idiot can fly."

"It's all Baron's fault—"

"He has been taken care of, but he's not dead. He's an example that under my control. No one has an easy way out," the menacing figure explained, grimly smiling.

"He's currently in the hospital." The menacing figure smoked their vape, blowing the smoke in the kneeling man's direction. "In a permanent coma."

The menacing figure stood up, ruffling his hair and glancing at a man seated away while reading a newspaper. The seated man was reading the sports section while drinking a soda with a long straw.

"We need to deal with this now and end this minimum-wage asshole," the menacing figure said, stepping forward as the light revealed his appearance.

It was a man in his early thirties, wearing a long, loose, white-sleeved shirt and shaved sideburns. There was a small soul patch beard on his chin. The man was in his physical prime, standing at six feet five. "Cheng!"

The seated man raised his head upon hearing his name and lowered the newspaper, revealing a man of North Asian descent with unkempt, wavy hair and dark bags under his eyes, clad in a faded black tracksuit.

"You're up. I have a suicide mission for you." The menacing figure stated, gesturing to one of his men to hand over a photograph he's holding.

Cheng received and observed it, spotting a convenience store clerk talking to a female coworker. "Frizz, right? Who are his new friends?" Cheng smiled, spotting an easy under leveled prey.

"Heh. There's a reason why I delegated this job to you." The menacing figure puffed another smoke. "Don't you want to meet your very best friend, Macaraeg?"

Cheng's whole expression instantly morphed into hatred. The veins on his face bulged as his form grew and widened. The men inside instinctively stepped back, fearful of the outburst.

*Tsssh!* Cheng's whole body steamed as his tracksuit was stretched to its limits; his height was towering, standing at eight feet tall. "You're certain that it's that status cock group again, Matthew?" Cheng asked, barely holding his grudge.

The menacing figure, Matthew, uneasily smiled. "Yep, they've showed themselves agai-."

"I will kill that r****d, tear up his arm and shove it up his asshole, and feed him his own cock!" Cheng raged, the loud seething caused the joyous celebration outside to silence.

Matthew exhaled, half-observing the enraged Cheng that was muttering to himself. (This prick died four times, yet his rage is still as impressive as ever. I wish I had that nine-lives talent instead of him.)

Matthew gestured for his men to leave the room, leaving only three of them inside. Matthew, Cheng, and the still kneeling elderly man, Broderick. (Status Quo... They've gone into hiding after that debacle five months ago. I didn't expect them to turn up this early and with another second-rate leveler again.)

Matthew mused, pouring and drinking a shot of whiskey. (Where the hell are they finding these second-raters?) He mused, handing a glass to the kneeling Broderick, who was confused at the gesture.

"Take it. A few shots never hurt someone at your age, and stand up, Mr. Asis."

Broderick Asis exhaled and slowly stood up, silently furious that a man half his age was ordering him like a common lackey. He was in the drug business since he was a lowly pusher in the early eighties, and now a bunch of supernatural young men had taken over most of the regional cartel with superpowered brutality.

(Don Enrique, these youths are a fucking disgrace to the cartel.) Broderick reflected; the sight of his former boss, Don Enrique, beheaded with an invisible force still lingered.

The glass of whiskey dangled in front of the elderly Broderick, hesitatingly accepting and drinking it. Matthew poured him another while courteously smiling. "Cheng, fancy a shot?"

Cheng, who was still steaming and mulling, darted to Matthew. "I am on a strict keto diet, no thanks."

"Now, Mr. Asis, I believe some punishment is due. Your actions have caused another person to become an even bigger annoyance."

"I told my men to execute that clerk at the warehouse when we beat him up, but—"

"Yes, there was someone under your ranks who defied your orders and instead wanted to take their time due to something personal. I get it," Matthew assured in understanding. "However, he was still under your responsibility, and you failed to punish him. Not only that, I had to exert enough effort and influence to bail you out. You weren't cheap."

"Now, there's also that other family kidnapping debacle, but that was out of your scope. An outside group had intervened and killed thirty of our men."

Broderick half-smiled upon hearing that the second offense was overlooked, but an uneasiness still lingered due to the first offense. 

"Your punishment is basic," Matthew added, giving the somewhat hopeful elderly Broderick another shot of whiskey. "That simple punishment is death."

Broderick Asis' heart skipped a beat, causing his whole life to briefly flash while staring at the politely smiling Matthew. "N-n-n-no..."

"Y-y-y-yes, actually..." Matthew mocked.

"Baron, he's still alive. Why do I get to die yet he gets to live!? Also, you got me out. I wasn't cheap!"

"Trust me, that wasn't your ordinary coma. Yeah, you weren't cheap but who cares about money."

"Cheng, please end his life. I can't do it. We were kind of close acquaintances."

"Always letting me do the dirty work. You and Jean."

Broderick Asis snapped, unable to tolerate the usurpers any longer due to their unpredictability. "You pieces of shit! You fucking wannabes. You fucking monsters!"

The outburst made the two levelers pause, albeit somewhat interested in what he had to say.

"The Korique cartel was one of the strongest here in the fucking country. We were respected, feared, and bowed. I was here when this goddamned gang was new, formed under martial law. I helped this group grow. I was one of the respected officers here! I killed, tortured, maimed, intimidated, and bribed for this group to become what it is today."

"You and your fucking 'Jean'! You people have no vision; you only know force and needless violence. No plans for the fucking future. You are burning my hard fucking work to the ground. I will not let myself be executed by the likes of you! You fucking degenerates." The elderly Broderick shouted at the top of his lungs, unwilling to surrender and be executed without a fight.

Broderick pulled out two silver-engraved revolvers and relentlessly fired at Matthew and Broderick.

"I WILL NOT SURRENDER TO THE LIKES OF YOU!" *Bang!* *Bang!* *Bang!* *Bang!* *Bang!* *Bang!* *Bang!* *Bang!* *Bang!* *Bang!* *Bang!* *Bang!* 

The room was filled with white smoke, discharged from the revolver, and slowly revealed two unharmed figures with sneering smiles.

Matthew scoffed, wiping his shirt while poking his ear, and with no damage. "This is why I hate guns. They're too loud."

Cheng blankly stared at the jittering Broderick, amused by his last stand. "You earned my respect, senior." He added, aiming a devastatingly powerful punch at the head.

"Don Enrique, I tri-" *Wham!* The elderly Broderick was beheaded, his head splattering the wall.

Matthew approached the window, glancing at the silent guests outside. "Please continue the party!" 

The loud music returned as the guests outside continued the party, ignoring what had transpired. Matthew approached the bloodied wall, clicking his tongue. "Why can't you just stab his heart or cast that electric spell of yours?"

"You wanted me to kill him, so I did it my way."

Matthew curled his lips. "New orders from Jean. You will clean the wall and dispose of the body."

"Stop shitting me."

"You disobeying a direct order?"