CHAPTER 23: BIRTH OF A DEVIL

Cain ran toward the room where Maria was supposed to be. No one blocked his way, of course—they all watched him, the pain and panic in his eyes serving as a form of entertainment. They laughed at the scene, finding it amusing.

Cain reached the room, and the sight of Maria shattered his heart. Bruises covered her body, evidence of physical violation, her clothes torn. But what truly broke him was her face—the expression frozen in place: sadness, pain, resentment, fear. Maria was dead.

The doctor walked in behind him, a smug grin on his face.

"That girl… tsk, quite tasty. Too bad she didn't last long. Well, we were a lot anyway; she might have died from overexertion trying to please so many people..." The doctor blabbered on, detailing the horrific fate she had suffered.

But Cain wasn't listening. His head felt hot, a pounding sensation taking over his brain. As time passed, he fell further into the abyss, his life losing every last shred of meaning. He had promised her—promised to protect her, to take her away from the slums, to give her a happy life. But there she was, dead in the most brutal way imaginable. The more he stared at her, the more rationality slipped from his grasp. The darkness took over, swallowing him whole.

The doctor kept talking. "I'm sorry, you know. As a doctor, I tried my utmost to keep her alive, but she didn't have the will to fight. Accept my sincere—"

"You don't have to apologize, Doctor," Cain cut him off, his voice eerily calm. A sinister smile spread across his face, sending a chill down the doctor's spine. Instinctively, the doctor stepped backward, but before he could retreat more than a few steps, his throat was torn open. He clutched at the wound, desperate to stop the blood pouring from his neck.

"Do well to apologize properly," Cain said, watching him coldly. "Don't worry—I'll be sending your friends to you soon. Just be patient."

The doctor's body shuddered as he looked into Cain's eyes. It was like staring into the abyss itself. We've created and unleashed a devil upon this world… That was his last thought before his consciousness faded.

The gangsters stood frozen, stunned beyond belief. The weakling they had never considered a threat had just taken a life—without hesitation, without a shred of morality. They had been in the business long enough to know that this was the type of person to fear the most.

"Alright, don't be pussies," Cain said, gripping the bloodstained knife. "Come at me."

None of them moved. They were too stunned.

Cain tilted his head, eyes scanning the room. "If you won't come to me, then… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7—oh, seven of you. Well then, I'll come to you."

Without another word, Cain lunged. The closest gangster barely had time to react before Cain's blade slit his throat in one swift motion. The others reeled in shock. How easily he had done it—like a seasoned killer.

Realizing their mistake, the remaining six finally readied themselves. But fear clouded their judgment. Instead of attacking as a unit, they acted individually, allowing Cain to dismantle them one by one.

Those who tried to stab him had their wrists slashed before they could react. The ones who attempted to flee found their ankles cut, sending them collapsing to the ground. Within minutes, every single one of them lay before him—bleeding, trembling, helpless.

Cain turned, walking toward the front door. He locked it.

Then, he returned to the dying gangsters.

"You know…" He knelt beside one of them, voice calm yet dripping with malice. "I've changed my mind. Ending your lives quickly was foolish of me. That's too merciful."

He smiled, twirling the knife between his fingers.

"I've decided… I should give you all the most excruciating pain imaginable."

His smile widened.

"It'll be fun. Trust me."

---

After some wonderful time together, Cain finally sent his friends on their way. He did this, of course, to prevent the gangsters from sending their elite team, knowing their new recruits hadn't returned after the job. That would likely happen the next day, but Cain didn't want to take any chances. Plus, he needed to properly send Maria off.

After Maria's burial, he took the stolen money—there was still a lot left, after all, since he hadn't paid the doctor yet, their agreement being service first, then payment. He took the money, the Apocalypse gaming helmet, and left the house, planning to find a place where he couldn't be easily discovered and could hide while playing the game to earn money. If what he had seen on the news was true, and if Nemesis wasn't lying, then he had to become stronger in order to get his perfect revenge against the gang and the unfair world. Quietly and without arousing suspicion, Cain left the slum, all traces of him going cold.

---

Viper, the leader of the slum's underworld, spoke to his vice leader.

"Hmm, Cain… such a smart and resourceful young man. He would make a perfect gang member for our Apocalypse project. There's a reason I let him go with his life after stealing from a store under our protection. Well? Have you been able to rope him into the gang?" he asked his vice, expecting a good report.

"Boss, Cain is nowhere to be found," the vice leader, Wild Dog, said, his head bowed.

"What do you mean? There's no way he would abandon that girl. I've done my research—those two are inseparable," Viper said, curious, finding it odd that Cain would disappear without his lover. He hadn't even considered the possibility of them eloping together—Maria was sick, and he was certain she needed at least a week to recover.

"Well, sir… I just got a report that she's dead," Wild Dog said, this time lowering his head even further, afraid to look at his boss.

Viper frowned. "How did she die?" His voice was ice-cold, his expression dark.

"Well… from our investigation, it seems to be the actions of our gang members," Wild Dog replied, his fear growing.

Pow. Viper slapped Wild Dog's face.

Pow. He did it again.

Then again.

And again.

Wild Dog, of course, didn't dare to retract his face. Doing so would be no different from forfeiting his life.

"Who did you hand the task over to?" Viper asked after tiring of roughing up Wild Dog's face.

"It was the new recruits, sir," Wild Dog said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hah, you went against my words, didn't you? I told you to send Rabbit, didn't I?" Viper asked, his tone laced with fury. Wild Dog could feel the pressure of Viper's rage weighing down on him.

"Sir… I never knew you had… the intention… of… recruiting him… so I felt sending Rabbit was not necessary… and sent the new recruits instead," Wild Dog stammered, terrified of what Viper would do to him.

Viper looked at Wild Dog, his anger immeasurable. "Hah, I can't believe I had such a fool as my vice. Have I ever ordered you to send the executives on some silly errand?"

"No, sir," Wild Dog replied, his voice low.

"Such a fool. Rabbit already knows what to do, but you had to ruin everything. So be honest with me—Is Cain really missing, or is he dead?" Viper asked, collapsing into a chair.

Wild Dog screamed internally. This was it. The question he had tried so hard to avoid.

He was scared.

He didn't know how to answer.

Lie and tell the boss Cain was dead? At least that would make him less furious. But the moment Viper found out he was deceived, Wild Dog knew he would be doomed.

Of course, he knew escaping was nearly impossible. As vice leader, someone was definitely keeping an eye on him. Viper was meticulous—he wouldn't allow someone with inside knowledge to run around unchecked.

Tell the boss the truth?

Great. A straight ticket to hell.

He had lost Cain as well as seven recruits—that alone was enough to spell his doom. Truly, he was caught between a rock and a hard place.

Breathing heavily, Wild Dog decided to choose the lesser evil—the truth. At least he would suffer less than if he lied to Viper's face.

"He… we… lost him… We couldn't find him… It seems… he killed our reserve gang members… seven of them… and escaped… We can't find him," Wild Dog admitted, his voice trembling.

Viper was stunned. He looked at Wild Dog no differently than he would a dead man.

"Hah… You… I don't even know what to do with you," Viper said before taking a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it, and taking a few puffs.

Wild Dog remained obediently silent, not daring to make a sound.

After about ten minutes, after finishing his cigarette, Viper stared at Wild Dog.

"One month. If you don't find Cain within a month and end him, then you'll be saying goodbye to this world—along with your loved ones," Viper said before standing up and walking away.

Wild Dog, extremely grateful for the second chance, bowed his head deeply before scrambling to make calls to ensure Cain was found.

As Viper walked away, he sighed.

Cain was a good seedling, someone he had hoped to groom into a great member, possibly even a successor.

But it was too late.

Cain probably hated the gang now.

And that made him a threat.

To Viper, all threats had to be eliminated—no matter who they were.

And Cain had just joined that list.