Vengeance in the Shadows of Death

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"197..198..199..."

Michael got up from the floor after finishing his daily push-ups; it had been a year and two months since he entered prison.

This year he turned fifteen. His body had grown taller than before. There were a few scars on his body.

"Ding~ding..."

The bell rang with a sharp metallic sound, echoing through the concrete walls of the cell.

Disorderly footsteps echoed in the corridors, indicating meal time; he left the cell and blended with the crowd of prisoners heading toward the breakfast hall.

The meal consisted of oatmeal porridge. Bread with a bit of jam.

The porridge was dry and unpalatable; despite the bad taste, I had gotten used to it after eating it several times.

Driven by my desire for revenge and survival, I grew stronger day by day.

The prisoners no longer harassed or targeted me; on the contrary, they began avoiding me in fear after what happened with the last group that targeted me.

After I broke the limbs of seven out of ten people, unfortunately, I was placed in solitary confinement.

After finishing the meal, we headed to the yard; where we were allowed to do whatever we wanted for two hours before returning to our cells.

Once back, I lay down on the steel bed and planned to take a nap.

"You there. Prisoner number 376."

In this prison, we are called by numbers, so when I heard someone calling my number, I turned to see who it was. A bald-headed guard with a thin mustache stood in front of my cell.

"Get up quickly."

He spoke while opening the cell door. The guard grabbed me, and we headed toward the prison administration office.

After opening the office door, we went inside. Several figures in formal clothes glanced at me briefly before refocusing on their papers.

I looked at the four individuals standing beside me—I wasn't the only prisoner summoned here.

"Prisoner numbers 297...312..376..389."

One of the men raised his head and called out our numbers, confirming our presence.

"You are here because you have completed your designated sentence."

Upon hearing his words, a wave of happiness and joy overwhelmed us.

The others showed delight on their faces, while I maintained a stoic expression as if it were unimportant.

After the man read us a set of laws, guidelines, and other matters unimportant to me, I don't remember them.

"Sign this paper, and you will be free."

The man spoke as he handed us several documents; without reading them, I signed like the others.

"I hope you abide by the law this time; you're young—no need to ruin your lives."

The man spoke while filing the documents.

"Don't worry, sir. We'll follow the law this time and won't repeat our mistakes."

I echoed his words like the others. My mind began plotting revenge against those responsible for my imprisonment.

........

"Well, boy. Make sure to stay out of trouble, or the next time you spend in prison will be longer than three years."

"Thank you, sir. Don't worry. I'll take your advice to heart."

I replied to the officer before stepping out of the car and heading toward the house in front of me.

'Not much has changed, huh.'

I thought as I looked at the house for a moment before knocking. After a short while, the door opened, revealing a slim girl around my age—Aunt Christina's daughter.

"What are you doing here?"

She stared at me for a moment before speaking with clear disgust.

"..."

I glanced at her before pushing her aside and entering the house.

"What do you want from us, you criminal? Who allowed you in?"

She complained as I walked upstairs to my room. The room was empty—the bed and small desk in the corner were gone.

As I expected, once I was sent to prison, Aunt Christina sold everything in the room.

I noticed a small pile thrown in the corner.

I approached it and began taking anything useful. My hand paused on a book.

"Fragments of an Unfinished Story."

The book's title was written in golden letters. I knew this book well, it was the novel I'd been reading before my imprisonment. Without hesitation, I placed it in my bag. I glanced at the room one last time before heading downstairs.

"Stop! Why did you come to my house... Don't you know you'll give us a bad reputation by coming here?"

I heard Aunt Christina's voice behind me. I turned to look at her and spoke coldly:

"I came to take what's left of my things... Don't worry, old woman. I won't stay in the house of someone who spits venom instead of words like you."

Her expression twisted. She wanted to retort, but before she could, I opened the door and left. I heard her cursing my ancestors eighteen generations back.

What Michael didn't know was that after he left, Christina hastily took out her phone and dialed.

"What?"

A lazy voice came from the other end.

"He was released from prison today."

Christina spoke after the other party answered.

"Is he at your house now?"

The voice asked again.

"No. He left moments ago and doesn't seem to plan on returning."

"Alright."

After hearing Christina's words, the other person hung up. Had Michael been there, he would've recognized the voice—his sworn enemy, *Brian*.

......

"A cup of coffee, please."

I sat in a café, staring at the bustling world outside.

"Now that I've left the house, I need to find a place to sleep tonight."

As I drifted into thought, a well-dressed figure sat across from me.

"Michael, my friend... It's been a long time. A year and six months, I believe?"

His voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced at him, secretly clenching my fists to suppress my anger.

"Oh... You've become less reactive. Seems the beatings in prison paid off."

Brian mocked, hoping to provoke me. But I simply stared and replied:

"I doubt you came here just to mock me."

Disappointment flashed in his eyes at my calmness.

"Of course not... Listen, Michael. I came here sincerely to talk."

I raised an eyebrow skeptically as I sipped my coffee.

"Speak quickly. I don't have all day."

"Alright, Michael. I'm here because after that night you were sent to prison, I reflected and realized I crossed the line. I caused you too much trouble and regret it... So I want to apologize and... let's forget our grudges. Start anew. What do you say?"

"..."

I froze momentarily, my fists clenched under the table until my knuckles turned white. After everything he'd done, after all the beatings I endured in prison, did he think I'd forgive him! ?

"Well... I'm also ready to forget the past. But... I think I need compensation for my time in prison."

I feigned sincerity, though internally plotting to exploit every penny in my revenge. But I knew Brian wasn't foolish—he'd see through any scheme.

"Oh, really? Haha... Glad we agree."

Brian's eyes lit up. He pulled out a plain bank card and said earnestly:

"There's three million in this card."

He handed it to me and stood.

"Goodbye, Michael."

He left the café.

"He's definitely plotting something."

I finished my coffee and exited. Upon leaving, I felt eyes on my back. Ignoring them, I walked briskly. Sensing a follower, I quickened my pace and found myself in a city alley.

I stopped and glared at the man blocking my path.

"What do you want? You've been tailing me since the café."

I asked calmly.

"Oh!... Sharp senses, kid."

The man spoke with a piercing gaze.

"Enough talk. Let's beat him and take the money as ordered."

Another man behind me said. I glanced around—nine burly, tattooed men surrounded me.

"I can give you the money, and we part ways."

I hoped to avoid unnecessary conflict.

"Do you really think that card has real money, Michael?"

Brian emerged beside the first man.

"Or did you believe all that heartfelt crap I said at the café?"

He smirked.

"Let me enlighten you, Michael... I initially planned to leave you alone after prison. At first, inmates beat you, but after three months, I heard you'd grown stronger—taking down fifteen out of twenty prisoners. By the ninth month, you'd become one of the strongest in prison."

He paused, hatred flashing in his eyes.

"That's when I realized: the more time you had, the stronger you became. When I told my father, he said maybe you had a talent for combat.

if you joined the national army, you'd achieve limitless success. We'd pay dearly if you sought revenge. So we decided to 'cut the grass before it grows.'"

After his speech, I understood—this wasn't just a beating. They meant to kill me.

Without warning, I lunged toward a trash can, grabbing a steel rod.

The cold, rough metal calmed me. I swung the rod vertically and horizontally.

Each swing brought cries, screams, and the crunch of breaking bones.

I only stopped when exhausted. The men lay wailing on the ground. Brian whimpered, clutching his twisted leg. I'd struck him as he tried to sneak away.

I approached, tightening my grip on the rod. His face contorted in terror as he begged:

"H-Hey... I'm sorry... *Sob*... I swear I'll leave the city... Please, Michael... Forgive me... Please "

Ignoring his pleas, he pulled a bank card from his pocket and tossed it.

"How much is here? What's the PIN?"

"Five millions... PIN is four zeros."

I set the card aside.

"Who said I'm letting you go?"

His face paled.

"But you took the mo—*AAAH!*"

I smashed his broken leg with the rod. He cursed:

"You son of a b****... You'll regret—*AAAH!*"

I broke his right arm.

"Seems you'll never repent."

I continued until his ribs and limbs were shattered, his face unrecognizable.

"Hey , kid . What's your name?"

A man in a black suit stood nearby, guards behind him. My heart raced—if he reported this, I'd face twenty years.

"M-Michael..."

"Don't be afraid . I won't tell anyone Alright I'm Alfonso. How about working for me?"

That night, I met the old man Alfonso.

........

**Present Day**

[Michael's POV]

"Hoo... Haah... Hoo... Haah..."

My labored breaths echoed in the room. Each breath felt like fire in my lungs. I'd lost feeling in my limbs and was slowly going deaf.

My body was dying, organs failing. But I fought—not from fear, but because my work here wasn't done.

"You're on your last breath, boy."

Alfonso stood nearby, flanked by Jackson and James.

James sneered:

"You're like a cockroach—still clinging to life after all these injuries, blood loss, and two days without food."

"Not everyone's brave enough to embrace death."

Jackson mocked. All three looked at me with disdain.

I lifted my head weakly.

"J-Jackson..."

They frowned.

"J-Jack... *Cough*... Jackson... There's..."

"What the hell are you trying to say?!"

Jackson approached.

"Careful, Jackson. Stay alert." Alfonso warned.

"Relax, Father. He's harmless now."

Jackson leaned closer.

*Perfect.*

I whispered inaudibly, making him lean closer.

I opened my mouth and—

*CRUNCH!*

"AAAAH!!!"

Jackson screamed as I bit his neck, tearing his carotid artery. He collapsed, clutching his throat.

Alfonso paled, rushing to Jackson. James pressed on the wound, tears flowing.

I smiled.

"*Cough*... The carotid takes two to five minutes to kill without medical help... The nearest hospital... is twenty minutes away..."

Alfonso froze, muttering incoherently.

"Heh... Your eldest dies in minutes. Your youngest has gonorrhea. And you're too old to father heirs. Your syndicate will be stolen when you die—all because your son didn't heed your warning."

"HAHAHA! *Cough*... *Cough*..."

I laughed maniacally until my vision blurred. My heart seized.

*Damn... A heart attack from laughing too hard?*

When darkness engulfed my vision, I knew then that I was dead.

But it seems that fate had other plans for me.

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* "Alright, guys, this chapter was about 2000 words. It took me five hours to write."

* The main story will begin in the next chapter; therefore, if you have any suggestions, feel free to mention them in the comments. Thank you for reading, and I wish you all a happy day.