treachery 2
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I turned to the nearest person on my left, a man of average build, about 1.7 meters tall.
The man was surprised by my targeting him, but before he could react, I had already grabbed his arm and twisted it as far as possible.
*Crack*
"Ahhh!" The scream of the 35-year-old man echoed through the empty warehouse, sending shivers down the spines of the other men. But they didn't back down; everyone here had witnessed more brutal and violent scenes than this.
This is the nature of the underworld, a world where there is no place for the weak.
Seven men rushed toward me, each carrying a steel rod. The first one swung his rod at my shoulder, and I quickly stepped back.
*Clang*
The steel rod hit the ground in front of me. I looked up from the rod to the man, then lunged at him and delivered a powerful punch to his lower jaw.
*Boom*
My fist struck his jaw with force, causing him to drop the rod. In a swift motion, I picked up the rod from the ground. All of this happened in just four seconds.
After grabbing the rod, I turned to the nearest person charging at me fiercely. I raised the rod high and brought it down on his head.
The man's eyes widened as he watched the rod descend toward his head.
*Boom*
The man fell to the ground, motionless. I looked at him and hit him again with the rod on the head, with a sickening sound. Blood gushed from his head, and the horrifying white matter scattered on the cold warehouse floor.
*Gulp*
The sound of someone swallowing broke the cold silence that hung over the place. I looked up from the blood-stained rod and glanced at the remaining men. I saw it, yes, I saw the fear of death in their eyes. In the end, the fear of death is an instinct in the human body. Few are those who do not fear death, and unfortunately for them, I am one of those. I had rid myself of the fear of death because, at some point in my life, death became the only thing I longed for.
I took a step forward, and they took a step back. Then, one of them tried to pretend to be brave.
"Don't be afraid, brothers, we are more..." But before he could finish his sentence, I rushed at him and struck his calf with the rod.
"Ahh!" Before he could finish his scream, I hit him in the head with the rod.
*Boom... Boom... Boom*
I hit him several times until his head was stuck to the warehouse floor.
I looked up at James, whose face was pale as he watched the scene before him. My lips curled in disdain. Although his father was the head of an assassination guild, James had not been much involved in the affairs of the underworld. All he did was go to brothels or deal drugs.
I looked at Jackson, who was watching quietly without any expression, as if what was happening didn't concern him. Then I turned my gaze to the old man, who had the same indifferent expression as his son. I smiled at them, then looked at the rest of the men and said:
"Three down... twenty-seven left. Let's finish this quickly."
[James POV*]
I looked at the man who had stolen everything from me as he followed my brother Jackson to the office. This man, whom my father had picked up from the streets... I still remember the day he entered our lives six years ago.
*Rumble*
I looked at the lightning outside the window. The sky was pouring rain, and the atmosphere was dark and cold.
"When Dad comes, I'll tell him that I finally defeated Simon. Hehe, I wonder how he'll react." I thought, smiling like a fool. I went upstairs, where there were two rooms. I passed my room and stopped at the second door.
*Knock... Knock... Knock*
I knocked on the door three times and waited for a response from inside. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long.
"Come in." The voice of an 18-year-old teenager came from inside the room.
I turned the doorknob and entered. I looked at the simple room, which contained only a bed, a desk, a clock hanging on the wall, and a large wardrobe. It was an ordinary room for a villa of this size.
"Stop staring and speak. Why did you come here so late at night? It's eleven o'clock now. If you don't give me a convincing reason, I'll..." He didn't finish his sentence, but a shiver ran through my body. I looked toward the desk, where my older brother sat with his black hair and hazel eyes, unlike me, who had inherited my father's appearance completely.
But my brother was talented and strong. He had defeated Simon, the guard I had struggled to defeat for two weeks, in just five days. That's why I respected him so much, even though he was only four years older than me.
"W-when will Dad come?" I stammered under his piercing gaze.
Silence filled the room for several seconds before he closed the book, moved away from the desk, and walked toward me.
At that moment, I knew I was about to be beaten. I cursed myself for daring to come to his room just to ask a trivial question.
I looked at him as he approached, trembling and closing my eyes in preparation for the blow. But instead of the slap I expected, he raised his hand and patted my head. I opened my eyes and found him smiling at me, saying:
"What? Did you think I would hit you? Don't worry, I remember being like you on the day I defeated Simon. I couldn't wait to tell Dad. Hahaha." He laughed as he looked at me, and I joined him in laughter. We stopped laughing out of exhaustion, and then he said:
"Dad will be here soon..."
*Creak*
Before he could finish, the sound of the door interrupted him.
"It's him!" I said as I rushed downstairs. But as soon as I arrived, I was surprised by the person standing next to my father.
"Dad!" I shouted as I hugged him. After the hug, I turned my attention to the boy with blond hair, green eyes, and an expressionless face, like a corpse.
"Who is this?" I heard my brother Jackson ask my father, but the answer we heard froze us all.
"This is your new brother. He's fifteen years old, so he's older than you, James, and younger than you, Jackson. Hahaha." My father laughed warmly. This was the first time I had seen my father laugh like this since my mother's death five years ago.
I turned to Jackson to find him looking calmly at the boy before smiling and saying:
"I'm Jackson, nice to meet you." He extended his hand for a handshake.
"Michael." The boy replied in a cold voice and did not shake his hand.
I saw my brother's expression change to anger, and he was about to speak, but my father intervened first and led the boy, Michael, to the third floor, where he was given the room closest to my father's.
"Well, your brother Michael is a bit tired. Let him rest. Jackson, go to the nanny and have her prepare a big feast for us today. Hahaha."
The next day, my father began training Michael in boxing and other techniques in the backyard.
I approached my father and spoke excitedly:
"Dad, last night when I was outside, I defeated Simon!"
"Oh..." His reaction was disappointing, but I thought maybe he hadn't heard me well.
"Dad, I defeated..."
"Okay, I heard you. Don't repeat yourself. What's so great about defeating Simon in two weeks? Look at your brother Jackson, he defeated him in five days. Go and train somewhere else, don't bother me. I'm busy." His words struck my heart, and I felt unjustly wronged without knowing why. Anger began to rise within me.
I raised my head and looked at the insect that had entered our house, the damn insect named Michael. I shouted at him in frustration and anger:
"You bastard, this is all because of you! Tell me, Dad, what do you see in this vagabond that you brought him into our house? It would have been better to let him rot in the streets!"
*Slap*
I looked up from the hand in front of me to my father in shock. I saw him looking at me angrily and saying in a cold voice that made me tremble:
"Apologize."
"Why..."
*Slap*
Before I could finish, he slapped me again with force and repeated in an even colder voice:
"Apologize."
Fear of being hit made me tremble, and I wanted to apologize.
"I am sor..... ."
"Why should he apologize? What did he do to apologize?" A voice I knew well interrupted me. I turned to the source of the voice and saw my brother Jackson standing with his hands clenched, looking at Michael angrily.
"What James said is true, isn't it? It's because you're training him... and that's why you're not even free to listen to what your son James has to say." He said, pointing at Michael.
"What do you see in him that you prefer him over us?"
My father fell silent for a moment when he heard this, then turned to Michael, who continued training as if nothing happening concerned him.
"Stop." After he said this, Michael stopped and turned to us. He didn't even look at me, and he looked at Jackson indifferently and said:
"You are weak."
Upon hearing this word, Jackson couldn't control his nerves; he rushed toward Michael, clenching his fist with all his strength and throwing a punch at Michael. But to his surprise, Michael caught his punch in mid-air as easily as if he were catching a baby's fist.
"Tsk," Michael clicked his tongue, twisted his torso, and delivered a sudden kick to Jackson's face; but unfortunately, Michael dodged it easily, released Jackson's fist, grabbed his foot in mid-air, and pulled Jackson toward him. He tensed his arm and muscles before delivering a left-handed punch to Michael's chest.
Jackson's eyes widened in surprise as he realized he was completely exposed; Jackson watched in despair as Michael's fist fell on his chest, thinking:
"It's over... I shouldn't have exposed my body."
"Gahhh," Jackson felt the air leave his lungs due to Michael's punch; he crouched on the ground, groaning in pain.
"Boom," another punch fell on his face, leaving his thoughts completely blank.
"Thud... haah.... haaah.... hoooh... hoh," his body fell to the ground, gasping for air.
"I told you, you are weak," was the last thing he heard from Michael before he passed out.
(Im-impossible... no-no way... h-how) I felt my head throbbing with pain as I thought about this; how could Jackson be defeated? Jackson wasn't just my brother; he was a role model for me.
And now I see my role model falling and being defeated in front of me, knocked out in less than a minute with just two punches; I felt my world turning upside down. I turned my gaze to our father only to find him smiling with joy.
"Tsk... tsk.... tsk.... tsk," I saw my father clapping with joy for the vagabond who had beaten his biological son unconscious. He even stepped forward and patted Michael on the head, saying:
"Good, no... excellent, Michael. What I said is true. Even though they are my sons, they are weak, and I am even ashamed to call them my sons in front of my friends and superiors."
"Haa... hoo," he took a drag from the cigarette in his hand and continued :
"This world has no place for the weak, Michael... This harsh world only recognizes the strong. Always keep this in mind, my son Michael. The weak have no freedom or right to life or death; the life or death of the weak is always decided by the strong. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, I understand," Michael replied, his eyes calm.
---
[ alfonso pov] (Father of Jackson and Jimmy)]
"Yes, I understand," Michael replied to me, his eyes calm. But beneath that calmness, I saw a storm of emotions and a desire for revenge.
"Sigh~" I sighed in disappointment as I looked at James, who stood in shock, staring at his unconscious brother.
I gestured to one of the guards standing nearby without looking at them.
I said to him without turning my gaze:
"Take Jackson to his room and escort James to his room as well."
"Come on, Michael. Today, we'll go buy some formal clothes for you. In the future, I'll take you with me as my son to parties and events in high society, so you need to look good," I spoke, looking at him, hoping to find any emotion on his face.
"Alright," he replied. But unfortunately, his expression didn't change or waver. I felt a bit disappointed, but I quickly pushed it aside and began to think:
' (This boy, Michael, is truly talented... especially with weapons.)' My mind drifted as I recalled the night I met Michael in the back alleys of the slums. I found Michael beating seven grown men with just a steel rod. My body shivered as I remembered that scene, which made even me, a grown man who had lived decades in the underworld, tremble with fear.
(If this boy is trained well, he could become a formidable force... Perhaps then, my assassination guild will rise from the third rank to the second rank... No, even the first rank is possible.) My body shivered with excitement as I thought about the future.
"I will do whatever it takes to achieve my goal," I said, thinking of a plan to use Michael to make my guild a dominant force in the underworld.
"Heh hehehe heh hehehe," the echo of my laughter reverberated in my empty office, filled with silence and excitement.
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[Jackson pov]
"Ugh, what happened?!" I groaned as I opened my eyes, greeted by the familiar ceiling of my room.
Suddenly, I remembered what had happened and the humiliation I had endured.
'You are weak,' these words echoed in my mind over and over. I clenched my fists with all my strength until blood flowed.
"I will take revenge on you, Michael," I said these words and vowed them to myself.
And so, the days and months passed, and every week I challenged Michael, but the result was always the same: I lost in less than two minutes.
Despair and anger rose within me because of this, and I kept asking myself, "(Why is he so strong... Why... Why... Why is life so unfair?) "I kept struggling and struggling, and two years passed in this manner. During these two years, my hatred for Michael reached the heavens, not just because I kept losing to him, but also because my father started taking Michael to parties and events as his son. Even some of the big shots began comparing me to him and calling me and James a disgrace to our guild.
While I continued to train, James had given up on training and succumbed to drugs. Can you believe it? A sixteen-year-old boy started getting addicted to drugs, and all because of one person who kept coming to my mind: "Michael."
And that's why I hate him. I will do anything to take revenge on him.
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[Present time]
[ James POV]
A heavy silence hung over the cold warehouse. The cause of this silence was a man with green eyes, blond hair, and a handsome face stained with red blood and some disgusting white chunks. Around him lay a group of bodies on the ground, their limbs twisted in strange directions, and some of the bodies had their heads smashed and stuck to the cold floor of the warehouse.
"Drip... drip... drip."
The silence was broken by the sound of blood dripping onto the floor from the steel rod in the man's hand.
Michael raised his head and smiled at me, but to me, he looked like a demon straight out of hell.
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[ NOTICE]
". Hello, guys. Thank you for reading. What do you think about the narrative style of this chapter?"
"If you have any suggestions or recommendations, please mention them in the comments. Thank you, and I hope you have a nice and happy day :-)"