《Kidnapping, Fantastic!》


 Prologue 0.1: The Family of Want

    Only a bit of moonlight could cut through the clouds, then even less of it was able to filter through the wooden blanks that covered the windows of the Gordoli hideout. They didn¡¯t have electricity since it was an old building, so the only light was from the candles and lanterns hanging from the ceiling or set on desks. The current leader of the Gordoli Family, Nick, gave a wet cough to rid his lungs of phlegm. Some of it got on the newspaper. Just the perfect splotch.


    The face of a senator, Lenore Marquez, was only centimeters above where his spittle fell. How poetic? If he ever met that man face to face, he would spit on him.


    Even though he was mafia, Nick Gordoli believed that crime should function in a certain way. They needed to be honorable. If you lived in the world of crime without upholding justice, you were just a criminal. But if you followed the rules, and created an ecosystem where people could live, you were something better. That made you mafia.


    Of course, even the modern Cosa Nostra didn¡¯t get it. They were shitheads. The thought of those bastards made Nick¡¯s scar itch furiously. After being excommunicated months ago, they took a blade and worked it through his face, leaving a cut from the bottom of his jaw through his lip and up towards his eyebrow, almost like a question mark. They laughed when they did it.


    Nobody was thinking right in these times. Everyone was too selfish, or too obsessed with simply surviving, that they weren¡¯t taking note of honor and dignity. That was a crime in itself. These were the people Nick looked down on.


    Lenore Marquez was one such person.


    The senator didn¡¯t commit any crimes openly. But he was easily bribed, and through his lack of push for crime reform, he abetted the foul residents of Paris in a far worse way. Through his actions, people could get through life just by being criminal. They were allowed to slack, which created an ecosystem unsustainable. It was disgusting. That was why he knew he had to do something about it.


    ¡°But that¡¯s only part of the reason,¡± Bruno said. ¡°Right?¡±


    Bruno was Nick¡¯s younger brother, the middle child, while Dominic was the youngest. Each one of them was separated only by a few years, and they had grown up as mafia.


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not the only reason,¡± Nick said. He folded the newspaper. ¡°Of course, there are other reasons. We need money, obviously. This can get us a fine amount. The most important thing to doing this, however, is the notereity we would gain from pulling this off without punishment. Our name would be heard throughout the streets. People would utter: ¡®the Gordoli Family¡¯, in the same way they utter names like ¡®the Perona Family¡¯ or ¡®Jackal¡¯. That¡¯s more important than anything else.¡±


    ¡°But wouldn¡¯t that be risky?¡± Dominic asked. He had a pained expression. Of the three brothers, who were all ugly, Dominic was the least ugly. What he did have was a large nose, sharp like a hook. While it wasn¡¯t inherently unattractive, he had always been made fun of for it, and developed a complex. Underneath it was a thick mustache; each of the three brothers had facial hair of the same type. Every man in their gang had a mustache of some kind. It was part of their signature style. ¡°Then we¡¯d be making enemies¡­¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°If anyone tries to fuck with us, you know I¡¯ll gut ¡®em,¡± Bruno said. If Nick was the brains, Bruno was the brawn. He stood over two meters in height and was covered in fat and muscle. ¡°Don¡¯t gotta worry about that.¡±


    ¡°Nobody would mess with us if we were established, anyway. All we need to do is get some money and we¡¯d be able to expand. The denizens of the underworld who understand our ideals would get it. As soon as they saw order and structure appearing under the Gordoli Family, they¡¯d flock to us and ask for work. That¡¯s how we grow.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see.¡±


    Bruno obviously didn¡¯t understand, but he nodded anyway. Dominic just grimaced without saying anything.


    ¡°But we¡¯re brothers, and that means we make decisions together,¡± Nick continued. He put his hand in the center of the dusty table they used for meeting and dinner. ¡°Just because I think a plan is good doesn¡¯t mean we do it. That¡¯s not how a mafia works. We need to be in agreement, and we need to work together. That¡¯s how we will tame these streets.¡±


    His eyes were lit with passion. Not something Dominic could muster, so the youngest brother looked away. To him, crime was just crime. Another job to get through life. It seemed pointless to try and explain it as something good. It wasn¡¯t good, and it wasn¡¯t bad. It just was.


    ¡°Hell, you know that I¡¯m in,¡± Bruno said, putting his hand on top of Nick¡¯s. ¡°It¡¯s been way too boring. And this sounds fun.¡±


    The two turned their attention to Dominic. He put his hand in with apprehension. He lacked everything his brothers had. A stupid and weak kid, who didn¡¯t give anything back to his family. All he could do was whine and complain, but they never discarded him. He couldn¡¯t voice these frustrations, and even he didn¡¯t fully understand how he felt.


    ¡°Whatever,¡± was how he explained it. ¡°As long as I don¡¯t have to do anything too dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Pussy.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you!¡±


    Dominic reached out to hit Bruno but was swatted away playfully. Even in tense moments like this where they decided to commit horrific crimes, there was a sense of playfulness. They were close enough to know each other''s smells.


    ¡°Fantastic! I knew the two of you would understand,¡± Nick said with a smile. He coughed heavily for a few moments before continuing. ¡°Then we should tell the rest of the guys. We should be able to pull this off by tomorrow night, according to the scouting I¡¯ve done.¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow night?¡±


    That seemed absurdly early to Dominic.


    ¡°How the hell are we going to do this without getting caught?¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow night is the perfect moment,¡± Nick explained. ¡°Their family is always split up, and I¡¯ve bought some good information off of a servant. Tomorrow morning, Lenore is going to be out of the city and won¡¯t return until the day after. At the same time, his wife and daughter will be going out seeing a play. I¡¯ve already checked, it¡¯s close enough to our empty factory district that we can swipe the youngin¡¯ and get away before getting caught, if we¡¯re sneaky enough. And the son? Well, I¡¯ve been tailing him myself for the past month, and he always goes to the same pub. So long as we just follow him and keep our faces covered, snatching him won¡¯t be any trouble either.¡±

 Prologue 0.2: The Family of Waste

    ¡°This is sooooo stupid!¡±


    Max was throwing a temper tantrum all alone in her room. Well, not all alone: there was a single maid watching her with the apathy only a paid servant can know. The ability to sigh without making it audible, releasing the breath when your master looks away.


    ¡°Oh my god! I can¡¯t believe this! So totally dumb!¡±


    The early-twenties mistress was shouting into her pillows then throwing them across the room. It was a worthless exercise that didn¡¯t even relieve her frustrations.


    ¡°Maid! Maid!¡±


    At this, the maid named Luise stirred. She knew she was going to need to pretend to care. It was like a television drama, though Luise didn¡¯t have time to watch many.


    ¡°Yes, mistress?¡±


    ¡°Can you believe it? This is so stupid! Dad is such a jerk!¡±


    The frustration Max was releasing was understandable. Even if her maid didn¡¯t really care one way or the other, she at least could sympathize.


    The inciting incident of this drama was from dinner earlier: the entire Vasquez family had got together since her dad was going out for a short trip for business. That was pretty standard; he was a somewhat important politician and was requested for bureaucratic purposes throughout District 5. Usually just for an extra vote or for some political schmoozing. This wasn¡¯t the important part.


    It was what happened as everyone was finishing. A stupid move by Mr. Vasquez.


    ¡®Maxine, honey, you know your mother and I care about you, right?¡¯


    ¡®Huh? Yeah, sure, did something happen?¡¯


    ¡®Yes, it did. The thing is, we¡¯ve found you a husband. You¡¯re getting married.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m what?¡¯


    ¡®Getting married. He¡¯s a nice fellow, Michael Locke. His parents are pretty influential business owners over in the 6th District. I¡¯ve already talked to them and they sound pretty happy, and so does he.¡¯


    ¡®Wait, you can¡¯t be serious, right? You¡¯re telling me that I¡¯m getting married?¡¯


    ¡®Yes. We¡¯ll come visit you, and-¡¯The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡®SCREW YOU!¡¯


    And more or less, since then, Max had been cooped up in her room shouting and thrashing about. In this day and age, political marriages weren¡¯t common with most people, but if you were in the upper class, it was basically a coin flip whether you¡¯d have a choice in your companion. Even when Mrs. Vasquez tried to calm her daughter by explaining that her own marriage was arranged and that she fell in love with Lenore, Max wasn¡¯t buying it. Actually, that just made it worse. Who would want a stuffy life like this?


    When the tantrum eventually got to the point that a chair broke, Luise decided to step in.


    ¡°Mistress, please calm down,¡± she said, deftly taking a step in to put a hand on Max¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Calm down.¡±


    Repeating herself actually worked and Max stopped struggling.


    ¡°They¡¯re so stupid! Can¡¯t they tell that I don¡¯t want to just marry some random guy? I hate it,¡± Max said, her face already covered in tears and ruined makeup. ¡°We live in 2014 for Lord¡¯s sake! This is inhumane! Preposterous!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re stupid, so very stupid,¡± Luise agreed. ¡°But what is complaining going to do? Has your father ever changed his mind from doing this kind of stuff?¡±


    There was a pause as Max thought about it.


    ¡°Darn it¡­¡±


    It was true. Even though Lenore was well known for being spineless in the political world, he was surprisingly draconic towards his children. Perhaps it was because of how his father had raised him? Nobody knew.


    ¡°Then what am I supposed to do? I don¡¯t want to get married away¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure, Mistress. Perhaps you could try and sway your so-called ¡®fiance¡¯ to cancel the marriage?¡±


    ¡°Hah! As if that would work,¡± Max said, snorting out air. ¡°Come on. If my father sent this man a picture of me, there¡¯s no way he would change his mind. I¡¯m simply too beautiful. No man could resist my charms.¡±


    Luise kept a straight face even though she was cursing her master internally.


    ¡°And his name too, so stupid! Michael! Mike! We would be Michael and Maxine...Mike and Max! That¡¯s horrible! That¡¯s the kind of stupid matching names that people think is cute even when you have no control over it. And even worse, his last name! Locke! My name would be Max Locke! That sounds like some kind of stupid product salesmen try to get you to purchase that would keep children from getting into your room! I hate this!¡±


    ¡°If you truly hate it, then you need to do something about it,¡± Luise said. ¡°Just worrying and hating it won¡¯t do much. You need to act.¡±


    ¡°I need to act¡­¡±


    It was currently an age of gender equality. Max had completed a bachelor¡¯s degree at university, something her mother would have been discouraged from doing. That meant she had an education, which should mean she could think of something.


    Something did come to mind.


    Perhaps it was just a stroke of luck that she hadn¡¯t accidentally shattered her mirror, because the reflection of herself and her servant gave Max inspiration. If you factored out their clothes and makeup, the two women were pretty similar looking. Both had wavy brown hair, and both were pale white with dark green eyes. They were similar heights and weights, and both walked with the classically trained cadence high class women walked with. If the maid were to be dressed up¡­


    ¡°Actually, I have an idea,¡± Max said slowly, measuring every word. She trusted her maid, but didn¡¯t want to offend her. Ah...if only Max knew her name. Well, she could pretend. ¡°I have an idea, and I need your help for it. Maxine Vasquez.¡± She was staring right at her maid when she said her own name.


    Luise was just confused.


    ¡°What?¡±

 Prologue 0.3: The Family of Wiles

    There was a rowdy crowd, cheering and singing in time while drinking heavily. It was a group of half a dozen men, all ruffians, who got their living by working with the union. They were the tough sort who never let their guard down, save for these rare moments. Froth overflowed as they smashed cups together in joy.


    Why were they joyous?


    Not for good reasons.


    The entire group was part of a racial supremacy group. These had started popping up now that the world was at peace. This gathering of seven brits were celebrating the fact that they had beaten up some midget irishman and stolen his italian girlfriend. They had been drinking before and happened across the couple while brawling in the back alleys. The leader of the group, Jack, threatened the tiny irishman while Brock, the second in command, smashed his head over with a bottle. The shock was too much for the woman, who the men grabbed and gagged before pulling down into their little pub. It was entirely for their club.


    Their prize was lying on her back in the center of the room tied to a table, and the men were all dancing around her. Building up their libido.


    Because they were gentlemen, they offered her a drink, which she accepted, even though they poured it upside-down onto her face. Everyone laughed. Italians were scum. They were part of the Axis, a screwed group of bastards that fucked the world up.


    And the irish were even worse. Those people were the type to stab you in the back and laugh, making pacts with devils like nothing. Or, well, at least that was what people said. None of these men really cared. They just hated anyone not british.


    The energy in the room kept building.


    She was very pretty. Better looking than any of these men ever had the pleasure of spending time with, and fuses were starting to get short. As Jack started undoing his pants, another member grabbed him by the back of the head and tossed him to the ground. He spat on Jack and started removing his own trousers. Jack grabbed this man by the feet and pulled, hard enough to trip his friend. The man fell hard, his jaw slamming on the edge of the table and causing him to bite his tongue off. The two started grappling on the ground while the remainder of drunk men hollered.


    Nobody paid attention to the tiny ¡®irishman¡¯ who entered through the back door with a knife. In a swift motion he stabbed through the closest man¡¯s spine then leapt up high enough to slit another¡¯s throat.


    Before the two men hit the ground, he rammed the knife twice into Brock¡¯s guts and tore so the intestines would spray on the ground. He threw out a kick to shatter a man¡¯s knee backwards then brought the knife around in a spinning motion to slice out his eyes. The final standing man watched in horror, unable to say anything or defend himself when the little guy abruptly swiped the knife through his groin. The floor was a bloody mess and stabbing the two wrestling men to death wasn¡¯t difficult at all.


    ¡°Took you long enough, asshole,¡± Honey said, yawning. ¡°I was wondering whether you were going to come or not.¡±


    ¡°I was wondering the same thing,¡± Hanson said. He tossed his knife from hand to hand. ¡°Now I¡¯m wondering whether to cut you free or not. Decisions, decisions¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine, leave me. Surprisingly comfortable, lying like this. I have a new appreciation for tables.¡±


    ¡°Uh.¡±


    ¡°No really, you can leave me. I¡¯ll just remember to tell the police everything about you when they come discover this place in five days. If they don¡¯t figure out quicker than that.¡±


    Hanson felt dismay.


    ¡°Come on, play into it a little! I¡¯m the hero, so let me tease you just a bit!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m the hero, here,¡± Honey said. ¡°I mean, I pretty much killed these men. Add five notches to my belt.¡± She was wearing a skirt without a belt, but she had one at home.Stolen novel; please report.


    Hanson shook his blade in front of her face. ¡°Do you not see this knife?¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t. Oh wait, is that a knife? It¡¯s so small, I thought it was a toothpick. Fitting for such a little man.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not even that short!¡±


    ¡°These guys kept calling you a ¡®short irishman¡¯, so it must be true!¡±


    ¡°Okay, now I think I¡¯m really not going to cut you free. Do you know how much time it¡¯s gonna take me to sharpen my shank before it¡¯s back to perfect? A total waste of Stabby-Slicey using it here.¡±


    ¡°Should¡¯ve used your hands then.¡±


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve had enough of your bullying,¡± Hanson said, sheathing his blade. ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡± Then without a word, he left through the door he had come in.


    A minute passed.


    ¡°Wait, Hanson, did you really leave? I was joking...please cut me free. I don¡¯t want to dislocate my hands. I¡¯m serious, I¡¯ll do it! Then you¡¯ll need to cook for me, and feed me, and wipe my-¡±


    The knife stabbed into the table almost close enough to cut Honey¡¯s wrist. It didn¡¯t, but it did shear through the rope enough for her to take it and free herself.


    While she was doing so, Hanson re-entered the room.


    ¡°I¡¯m not wiping anything, no matter what happens to you. Get a butler for that.¡±


    ¡°Ooh, maybe I should get a butler. Good thinking.¡±


    ¡°Wait, please don¡¯t actually try and get a butler. We don¡¯t get paid enough or have a nice enough house for that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll just buy a cheap one. And a handsome one.¡±


    ¡°The cheap ones won¡¯t be handsome. They''ll be ugly. Oh, wait, that¡¯s perfect for you. Never mind, you¡¯re good.¡±


    ¡°Fuck. Off.¡±


    Honey finally cut herself free and she hopped off the table onto one of their assailants crotch. She felt something crumbling and saw the man groan in pain, so she kneaded her feet and watched him writhe. The knife was handed back to Hanson as the two left the small bar.


    How rude to interrupt them on their walk?


    Resuming their travel, the two of them hopped onto a nearby wall and grabbed an exterior building pipe to climb. Very quickly they scampered up it and passed to the streets on that level. Normally this would be a pretty busy road, but at two in the morning, the only people who could see them were beggars and layabouts. People who wouldn¡¯t care to see the two. Their destination was home, which was quite a bit away, so they had time to chat on the way over.


    ¡°So, you said earlier you had dinner with Luise?¡± Hanson asked. His hands were atop his head and he was walking along the side of the bridge, balancing without difficult. The water below was pitch black. ¡°How was that?¡±


    ¡°Not bad, duh,¡± Honey said. She, on the other hand, was more than comfortable just being on the sidewalk. In her hands was a bottle of wine stolen from the bar they were just in, which she was shaking around with great disdain. ¡°How the fuck do you think it would go? She¡¯s good.¡±


    ¡°Glad to hear it. She ask about me?¡±


    ¡°Of course she did. You¡¯re just trying to boost your ego.¡±


    ¡°Am not.¡±


    ¡°Fuck off. But yeah, she wanted to make sure you were still single.¡±


    ¡°You told her I wasn¡¯t interested, right?¡±


    ¡°I told her you recently lost your cock in an automobile accident and decided to become a woman.¡±


    The scary part was that Hanson had no idea whether Honey actually said that or not. No, wait. It was scarier to think that Luise might believe something so bizarre. Or was it good?


    ¡°What did she say to that?¡±


    Honey laughed.


    ¡°She asked if she could borrow it for a while.¡±


    Hanson shuddered at the thought and double-checked to make sure his willy was still in place.


    ¡°Women are scary.¡±


    ¡°Yes, we are,¡± Honey said. ¡°Aren¡¯t all humans scary, though?¡±


    ¡°Babies are the worst. Horrifying.¡±


    ¡°Oh, absolutely. That¡¯s why I kill ¡®em on sight.¡±


    ¡°Anyway, what¡¯s Luise up to these days? Still doing that maid job? For the rich family or whatever?¡±


    Remembering the lunch they had today made Honey stop. Hanson raised an eyebrow as his sister dropped to her knees and started busting a gut in laughter. She was laughing so hard tears started forming in the corners of her eyes. Not knowing the joke just made Hanson feel uncomfortable.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±


    ¡°Holy shit! You¡¯re not gonna believe it¡­¡±


    ¡°Just tell me already god damn it.¡±


    ¡°The craziest thing,¡± Honey said, doing her best to contain the laughter. ¡°It¡¯s like a freakin¡¯ fantasy novel: Luise is dressing up as her boss so that she can run away from home to escape an arranged marriage. So fucking stupid ahahahahahaha.¡±


    Hanson didn¡¯t get the joke, but he couldn¡¯t help giggle a bit at his friend losing her mind. Their walk home that night was mostly normal til they saw two people covered head to toe in blood.

 Chapter 1: Under the Cover of Darkness

    It was so boring. Was this really what rich people subjected themselves to all the time? How could they get through three hours of opera without blowing their brains out? It was simply absurd. Perhaps they were all rotten inside, red masses of smooth-brained elites. That could be the only explanation.


    Luise had to take a break from the play, and excused herself. It was miraculous that she hadn¡¯t been recognized.


    Well, she had to admit that wearing Max¡¯s makeup and dresses did make her look quite fantastic. She hadn¡¯t even realized how similar the two of them were until she dressed herself up. It was one of those breathtaking moments when you finally realize that with a little effort, you too can look like someone fashionable. What helped the efforts more was that Jeanne, Maxine¡¯s mom, was legally blind and could barely see anything a few feet in front of her. For what reason the woman liked going to plays, Luise couldn¡¯t understand.


    Just go to a damn movie or something.


    ¡®Great Bastion of the Last Depths¡¯.


    What a stupid name. Something about a submarine or whatever. All the symbolism went right over Luise¡¯s head, and she didn¡¯t even care. Worrying about those types of things are for the privileged.


    It wasn¡¯t difficult to slip outside of the building without being seen. Even in the gaudy dress, she knew how to move when people weren¡¯t looking, and the side doors were devoid of attention. Everyone was too busy paying attention to the play.


    Luise lit a cigarette she had hidden in one of her dress pockets and put her hand against the wall to support herself. This was a nice theatre in the best part of town, but it was still grimey in the alleys on the side. It was sprinkling dark rain just centimeters from her face. How bad would it be to walk out and get the dress all dirty?


    Three men walking by stopped when they noticed her. The bravest of the group decided to call out to her.


    ¡°Hey doll, you busy?¡±


    She didn¡¯t even spare them a glance before the group of men decided to walk off. Her aura was one of self-importance, even though she was just a maid. Normally, guys like that wouldn¡¯t pay much attention to her, and if they did, she wouldn¡¯t be able to intimidate them off just by ignoring them. It was nice to pretend to be rich.


    When she first heard Maxine¡¯s plan, it seemed insane.


    To get out of being married away, Max was going to run away from home and have Luise pretend to be her. Tonight was the perfect opportunity, since Mr. Vasquez was out of town and none of the other servants would pay much attention. Max was going to live on the streets. After spending years away at college, she had learned about revolutionary and anarchist groups, becoming infatuated with the idea of class struggle. In her mind, she was going to go out and do her part by joining one of these parties.


    ¡°All a bunch of sentimental wank,¡± Luise said, flicking her cigarette away. ¡°If you want to help the poor so much, why make me do your work like this?¡±


    That was just Luise complaining. She didn¡¯t actually mind being a maid. There were far worse jobs out there she had done.


    At that time, Luise had said:


    ¡®Wow, you think you¡¯re really going to be fine on the streets like that?¡¯


    ¡®Of course I am,¡¯ Max responded. ¡®How hard can it be? I¡¯ve studied all sorts of things, and I pay close attention to the news about the lower class. I know everything there is to know.¡¯


    And she said it with such confidence. Luise didn¡¯t have the heart to tell her off, so she just agreed to the plan. Well, there were some other factors too. Once Luise got caught, she¡¯d be fired from the Vasquez housing staff. Luise only agreed to help after Max gave her a huge sum of money, equal to roughly two years of pay as her maid. That way, when Luise got fired, she wouldn¡¯t be hurting so much for a job.


    ¡®And then we can hangout together, like friends,¡± Max said, smiling. ¡®Get lunch as equals.¡¯


    Fuck you!


    Luise had wanted to say that.


    If you want to be equal, then just be equal! You don¡¯t need to run away from your fortune to do so!


    ¡°Fuck me,¡± Luise said. ¡°If I was her, I¡¯d get married to some random fat old man in a heartbeat.¡± As she said this, a fat old man just happened to be walking by the alley. His face was covered in shock as he looked at her. ¡°No. Not you. Get out of here.¡±


    He walked away with his head down.


    It was probably around time to go back in, or Mrs. Vasquez would start getting worried, so Luise fanned her body and went back inside. There was wine, so she took a glass and downed it in one gulp. Oh, right. Max wasn¡¯t a big drinker. Luise did a quick spin to make sure nobody saw her, and when she was confident she got away with it, she returned to the viewing room to keep up her own acting.


    ***


    --Two hours earlier--


    ¡°We¡¯re really doin¡¯ it??¡±


    The gang was all pulled together and sitting in the hideout. It was dark and dirty, with rain spilling in through the hole in the roof. The warehouse the Gordoli Family used for operations was an abandoned automobile factory near the river. All of the other buildings nearby were also decommissioned, and the area was pretty much filled entirely with punks and criminals. That being said, the Gordoli Family was threatening enough to keep an entire building to themselves, and if anyone messed with them, there¡¯d be trouble.


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re really doing it,¡± Nick said, pushing his hair back. He put his hand on his youngest brother¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You don¡¯t even need to do anything. Just drive behind us and make sure that nobody follows us. There won¡¯t be any cops.¡±


    The entire group had come together. All in all, it was a dozen men, all brutes in their own right. Together, they were a deadly force.


    ¡°How¡¯d you know that?¡±


    It was Rolly who asked. The Gordoli Family¡¯s verified badass.


    Nick smiled.


    ¡°That part of town doesn¡¯t have much in the way of cops. You know how it is, rich people have bodyguards instead of police to protect them,¡± Nick said. ¡°But for this family, that isn¡¯t the case. The senator keeps one or two men to protect him, but the information broker I went to said his family doesn¡¯t keep any others. They won¡¯t expect a thing.


    ¡°But that don¡¯t mean we can be loud,¡± Nick continued. Despite what he was saying, he was loading bullets into a pistol magazine. ¡°If people start to think something is wrong, it¡¯ll all be over. Instead of acting like a bunch of fools, we need a plan. And to tell you the truth, I¡¯ve already got one figured out for the daughter. She¡¯s the easy one.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°For the son though? Nah, you know the place, Bruno. Go in with Jack and Rolly and be as loud as you fucking want. I don¡¯t mind if you¡¯re sending a message, so long as you all wear masks and don¡¯t get tailed.¡±


    ¡°Hell yeah!¡± Bruno shouted, high-fiving his fellow gangster.


    ¡°Hell yeah!¡± They shouted back.


    ¡°Like I said, make sure nobody is following you, and make sure nobody knows who you are,¡± Nick said. ¡°But we all meet back here with our spoils. Oh, and no matter what, don¡¯t hurt either of those kids. Not yet, at least.¡± He let those words linger with a cruel smile at his lips.


    ***


    --After the play--


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that just fantastic?¡±


    As people started filing out, Mrs. Vasquez was speaking wonders about the Great Bastion of the Last Depths. Luise still didn¡¯t understand it, but that might have been a good thing. Max wouldn¡¯t understand the play either.


    ¡°The lead role seemed so handsome and brave, oh, I wonder whether he¡¯s acted before,¡± Mrs. Vasquez said, squeezing who she thought was her daughter¡¯s arm. ¡°Did you recognize him at all, Maxie?¡±


    ¡°Ah, no, mother,¡± Luise said. While she looked similar to Max, their voices were quite different. Years of smoking made Luise¡¯s voice sound scratchy. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°No? Then perhaps he is a new actor? If he is, I bet he¡¯s got such an incredible future ahead of him. Oh! I know, we should grab one of the pamphlets on the way out and see if we can learn who he is. I¡¯m sure your father would be able to secure a meeting with an actor, and I¡¯m sure he¡¯d come at a senator¡¯s request. Wouldn¡¯t that be great?¡±


    ¡°Yes, mother.¡±


    Surprisingly, Luise acting as disinterested and distant as possible was exactly what Max would have done. It was what Mrs. Vasquez was expecting.


    ¡°Oh dear, are you alright? Your voice sounds so hoarse...was it from all that screaming last night? I hope you¡¯re feeling all right.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m feeling fine,¡± Luise said. ¡°Just a bit tired.¡±


    That was not a lie. Having sat through the entire play was a draining experience. Or it could have been trying to pretend to be someone else like this.


    Meeting an actor, though? Hah. That sounded great. How could Max want to give this life up? If only she could keep doing it, Luise would surely be happy. But as soon as Mr. Vasquez came around, the entire charade would collapse. He was too keen of eye to not notice. And with the other servants also standing around, her disguise would be pierced immediately. It only worked on Max¡¯s mother. This strange dream would pass without too much more time. Might as well make the most of it.


    ¡°Oh no, are you sick?¡±


    Mrs. Vasquez put the back of her hand to Luise¡¯s forehead.


    Weird.


    ¡°Hmm, you don¡¯t feel like you have a fever, are you sure your throat isn¡¯t hurt at all? I could try to see if your doctor has anything to help with that¡­¡±


    Mrs. Vasquez¡¯s nose wrinkled.


    ¡°What is that smell?¡±


    Well, that fatal misstep could shatter the dream faster than expected. Oh well. Luise had already been paid to do this, so she didn¡¯t actually care whether Max got away from her family or not. Coming out like this and playing along was just for the experience.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Luise said, breaking the facade. ¡°When I took that break earlier, it was so I could go out and smoke. That¡¯s what you''re smelling. Or maybe it was the drink from earlier.¡±


    Max didn¡¯t smoke or drink. This was it.


    ¡°Oh Max! You shouldn¡¯t smoke! It¡¯s bad for your health! What will your fiance think about it?¡±


    Or maybe not. It appeared that Mrs. Vasquez wasn¡¯t just poor of sight, she was also not very smart. Did that make this easier or harder? For a moment, Luise considered whether or not she could just keep doing this for years. Pretending to be a senator¡¯s daughter and then marrying some wealthy dude in another district¡­


    That sounded pretty good. Maybe things would turn for the better.


    ¡°Sorry mom,¡± Luise said, doing her best to sound like a good daughter. ¡°I just wanted to try it. You know. I¡¯m worried about getting married. I mean, what is this guy even like in the first place? Do you know?¡±


    The theatre was now mostly empty, but they were both still sitting before an empty stage.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure he¡¯s a nice young man,¡± Mrs. Vasquez said. She bought it completely. ¡°I know he doesn¡¯t always get it across well, but your father really is a good judge of character. You should trust him. He means the best for all of us, even though it might not seem that way.¡±


    Luise pretended to reflect on that, then nodded.


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right mom. Thanks for taking me to the play.¡±


    ¡°No problem, sweetie.¡±


    Ugh. Having to pretend to be a sweet loving daughter was gross. Was this how people really acted? Luise was an orphan, so she only learned about family interactions through movies and books. This seemed like a sentimental moment, but it just felt sappy.


    The two eventually got up to leave. As she said, Mrs. Vasquez grabbed a brochure for the play so they could research the lead actor. For some reason that was her primary focus. They got to the valet spot and the man working the counter took their ticket.


    ¡°One second,¡± he said, smiling and rubbing at his mustache. ¡°Your car will be out in a second, I think.¡±


    Because neither of the two ladies had an umbrella and rain started sprinkling, the valet grabbed his own to cover them. He gave a wide smile as two cars pulled up.


    ¡°Hmm? What¡¯s this?¡± Mrs. Vasquez asked, taking a look around. They were the only two at the valet, and both mother and daughter had come to the play together. ¡°Is this for someone else?¡±


    Both cars were the same type of model that drove them here. Almost indistinguishable from each other. To the women, it seemed slightly strange.


    ¡°Oh, it isn¡¯t anything serious, ma¡¯am,¡± the valet said with a weak smile. It made his large nose look even larger, casting a shadow down his face. ¡°But unfortunately...there was a driver issue. Your ticket says you¡¯re the V-vasquez party?¡± He flashed the ticket with their names on it.


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s us.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t anything to worry about...I was talking to the drivers when they got a call from your husband. Lenore said he was returning early, and wanted to take his wife on a date. Very specific orders, from what I heard. O-oh, perhaps I shouldn¡¯t tell you this? It was supposed to be a secret...well, whatever. He wanted to take his wife out to surprise her, or something like that, and requested an extra car to take her. The daughter will be d-driven home as per usual...unless there are any issues with that?¡±


    ¡°Lenore came home early?¡± Mrs. Vasquez said, shocked. ¡°Oh my! If I had known, we wouldn¡¯t have spent so much time talking after the play, especially if he wanted to go out! I¡¯m so sorry for the trouble.¡±


    ¡°I-it¡¯s nothing,¡± the valet said. He once again smiled as wide as his mouth could get and laughed weakly.


    ¡°No, really, here, let me give you some extra money for a tip.¡± As she spoke, Mrs. Vasquez went through her purse and pulled out a few bills. Luise noticed it was around the hourly wage she used to make. This would make his day, she imagined. The greedy and crooked grin on his face was obvious, along with the way he kept leering at her. This must¡¯ve been the price to pay for being rich.


    Two servants stepped from the cars, gently taking Mrs. Vasquez to one and leading Luise to another. Luise didn¡¯t recognize them with their funny mustaches. Must have been the ones who worked for Mr. Vasquez.


    ¡°Here you go, madame,¡± the servant said, popping open the back door.


    Luise got inside and relaxed. Geez. Finally she could loosen up a little and not worry about pretending to be a good girl or whatever. If she had the night to herself, she could relax in Max¡¯s bed. Heh. That was something she had always dreamed of. The servant got into the driver''s seat, and the car started moving. He was playing something on the radio.


    Some kind of rock band. The grungy sort. Luise liked this type of music.


    ¡°Hey, can you turn it up a bit?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure can,¡± the servant said, twisting the knob. Then, as they pulled down a street, he fumbled with something underneath his seat.


    Luise saw it a second too late.


    He put on a gas mask, then hit a switch. There was a hissing sound as the doors locked and gas was sprayed across the back seat. She tried to do something, but because she was surprised, it was only a few seconds before Luise was completely unconscious in the back of the car.


    ***


    The driver pulled down another alley, where there weren¡¯t any streetlights. He stopped where two of his fellow Gordoli members were waiting, all wearing gas masks, and he gave them a thumbs up. With practiced skill, the three moved the car into an empty garage and switched out the license plates, then did a few aesthetic adjustments to the car. Not even a minute later and the automobile was almost completely unrecognizable.


    They pulled Maxine Vasquez out of the car. She was still unconscious, but a little less pretty than the pictures they had gotten. Must¡¯ve been the lighting. They tied her up and added a gag, then tossed her in the trunk of the car. One man went out to double check if any police were nearby, then gave the signal for the rest to leave.


    That man was Nick and he smirked as he hopped in the backseat, scratching at the scar across his face.

 Chapter 2: The Kids are Alright

    --About an hour before ¡®Maxine¡¯ was abducted--


    ¡°Fucking fuckers,¡± Max said, spitting on the two kids who had tried to hassle his group. ¡°Don¡¯t ever fuck with guys like us, or you¡¯ll fucking get it.¡±


    He was young, handsome, and rich. But the world misunderstood him. No, it wasn''t the world misunderstanding. Rather, the issue was how everyone else that formed ¡®society¡¯ was too ignorant to understand him. Too latched on modern sensibilities. He came from a rich family; his dad was a senator and his mother was a minor nobile. Despite their high rankings in life, they had the same minds that some trash plebeian would. Because of this, Max despised them. He despised his sister even more. She was the absolute definition of a ¡®privileged liberal¡¯, always shouting about unethical exploitation and other marxist bullshit. And at the same time, she didn¡¯t even realize how her action perpetuated that state. To think that they shared the same name. Bullshit.


    What kind of imaginative parent names their children the same name?


    Maxine Vasquez was the older sister, and Maxwell Vasquez was the younger brother. Both went by the nickname Max. It caused utter chaos at social events and with servants. But truthfully, Maxwell enjoyed that chaos.


    Currently, as rain sprinkled down on his head, he stared down at two random kids that had tried to pick his pocket. One of his friends, Benny, caught them, then proceeded to beat them bloody. Dragged into an alley and stomped into the pavement. Multiple broken bones, from what Max could tell.


    But what did he know? That¡¯s what his shit-dad would say. Max dropped out of college when he realized he wasn¡¯t ever going to go to an Institute, but that didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t understand medicine. He knew more about the human body than most people. Probably even most scientists.


    ¡°Hey, they¡¯re still alive, right?¡± Even after blowing his lid, Benny asked the question. He was washing blood from his fists.


    ¡°They¡¯re alive, don¡¯t worry,¡± Max said. He looked at his other friend, Eren. ¡°Check their pockets. If they¡¯re pickpockets, they might have something else. Maybe we can get some quick cash.¡±


    Being the son of a rich politician meant Max didn¡¯t need to worry about money, but his friends were different. They needed cash. That was the reason they hung out with him. He was nothing more than a source of money for them. But that was exactly why he liked them; in reverse, to him, they weren¡¯t anything more than two bodyguards that didn¡¯t listen to his father.


    Eren flipped the kids over and searched them, ignoring the moans of pain. He lifted a few wallets up, which Benny snatched.


    ¡°Damn! Nice haul, baby!¡±


    ¡°Keep it,¡± Max said. ¡°You guys can split it. You did all the work anyway.¡± Then, he changed the topic entirely. ¡°What time is it?¡±


    ¡°8:30. We still have some time before our meeting.¡±


    ¡°We do, but is there any point in wasting it? With these shitstains? Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Both Benny and Eren shrugged. They followed Max out of the alleyway then down the streets.


    It was not a nice part of town. This was where scum lived. Where gangs and lowlives collected, stealing from and murdering each other. It was a dog eat dog world down here. Blood flowed down the streets openly along with the rain. Even then, however, there were people that the residents here knew not to mess with. If a rich person is walking around with an entourage, they¡¯re someone important. Those kids made a mistake and were lucky to leave with their lives.


    Down a flight of stairs was an underground bar that Max¡¯s group met at very often. It was a quiet establishment, and they often reserved the backroom.


    But tonight, the entire place was closed down.


    In Paris 2014, gangs were not the biggest thing you needed to worry about. The world was a dangerous place, and cultists were some of the most dangerous groups out there.


    This was a cult meeting.


    And everything had already been decorated.


    The tables and chairs of the bar had been moved to another room. Instead, on the concrete floor was a massive circle made from goat blood. Inside the circle was a square, and inside the square was a six-pointed star. At each meridian of line touching, another circle was painted, and across every line was a human finger bone. Candles were placed strategically to illuminate the entire scene, but not to produce enough light to keep it above dim. Everyone else was already here.


    This was what Max did with the allowance his parents provided. He ran a small cult. And after months of research and planning, tonight was going to be the night that they brought it all to fruition.


    Max hopped onto the bar counter and coughed loudly, drawing everyone¡¯s eyes to him.


    ¡°Good evening, my friends and companions, I hope that tonight everyone is doing well? Ha! Of course you are! Because finally, everything''s coming together,¡± he said, both his arms raised high. ¡°After so much time, we¡¯re finally going to do it! We are going to summon and bind a demon! Make it our fucking bitch and demand it¡¯s power for ourselves! Then we¡¯ll change this shitty world for the better!¡±


    There weren¡¯t any cheers, but it wasn¡¯t because people weren¡¯t excited. It was because the darkness and gravitas of the situation didn¡¯t call for happiness. This was a moment all thirty people gathered together knew was serious. Dealing with demons was incredibly risky and illegal. Even if you were suspected of doing so, the Church could have you erased.


    This was a private building and all the above floors were empty. Max bought them all out. But if even a single policeman happened to pass buy and try to see what was going on, everything would be over. For that reason, everyone was quiet as a mouse.


    ¡°Take your places then, everyone,¡± Max said, crawling down from the table. ¡°Make sure you¡¯re entirely in your circle. We can¡¯t make any mistakes. And don¡¯t accidentally scuff anything. Even the slightest error could be fatal for all of us. Eren, can you grab the wine?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    The bronze acquaintance of Max went into the back to grab the bottle they prepared weeks ago. Inside of it was blood mixed from a daemon. The cost for that was ridiculous. Slowly, he poured out wine into glasses which Benny started handing out.


    ¡°Everyone, make sure you don¡¯t spill,¡± Max said. ¡°And make sure you drink at the same time as everyone else. Like we practiced. Don¡¯t be nervous! This will be the time we finally accomplish our goal! Once you have your glass, get in your spots. We¡¯re going to be starting soon.¡±


    It took little time for people to meander to their assigned spots. Even if Max was trying to encourage them, it was still frightening. This was the calmest life or death situation any of them had ever been in.


    Max was the last one to take a spot. He was in the six-pointed star, since he felt like that was one of the safest places to be. There was no proof of that, but even he was feeling superstitious at this moment. Who wouldn¡¯t be? Though to him, the worst possible thing that could happen would be nothing. If all this work and time was wasted. That would be so embarrassing he might actually die.


    ¡°Let¡¯s begin.¡±


    After a quick chant in a language none of them really knew, each cultist pulled a knife from their pocket and slit it across their left palm. They dripped the blood into their chalices. One, two, three.


    Simultaneously, everyone drank.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Then, the glasses were dropped and shattered across the floor.


    Nothing happened. The candles across the room flickered. Everyone¡¯s breaths were tight in their chests. The sound of the rain getting heavier outside was like drums bashing against their skills. A single bead of sweat rolled down Max¡¯s forehead then around his nose. It stopped at the tip.


    ***


    --Around noon that day--


    The world is huge. Absolutely massive. Even though a majority of it might be an absolute wasteland, there is so much to explore and so much to learn. Every single person is a human being and have their own stories that need to be heard to learn it all. You can¡¯t just happily spend your life stuck in a room, in a single plot of land, letting yourself be pulled along like a puppet on strings. That isn¡¯t how a human should live.


    ¡°If only I could make it more poetic,¡± Max said, scratching away the spelling errors she made. ¡°To be, or not to be. That is the question.¡±


    Not even one hour ago had she been trapped in the clutches of her parents. But thanks to her maid¡¯s help, she was able to escape. The new ¡®Maxine¡¯ was dressed up like Max, and Max dressed up in the maid uniform and changed to a new outfit as soon as she had left the estate. Now that she was out in the open, it all seemed so much better. It was brighter than she had imagined. Seeing it all from the window was nothing compared to actually being out here.


    There were birds chirping. The sun was able to peek it¡¯s head through the clouds. The Eiffel Tower sat off in the distance, piercing up. The glory of District 5.


    And with a cup of coffee at her side and a petite sandwich, Max was in a perfect moment of relaxation and clarity. This was what life was supposed to be like. Satisfaction. Not sitting and waiting to be married.


    She packed light; only a single backpack with a few pairs of clothes and her personal things. One of them was her journal, and another was a vintage camera, which she pulled out to take a snapshot of some birds sitting on a historic statue. It was a fountain, displaying some of the brave soldiers who fought back against the hordes of demons fifty years ago. With the tower in the background, she could frame the composition as she desired. The sun was in the middle of the sky, so there wasn¡¯t much in the way of shadow cast, other than some from clouds.


    Snap.


    It took a few minutes for the photo to develop, and Max was pleased with herself when she saw it. For safekeeping she put it in her journal.


    Now that she was done eating, it was time to set about on a journey. What should she do first? This was the beginning of her journey, and it needed to be fitting for a first stop. Something big! And something grand!


    ***


    Five hours of walking later and the only thing Max could consider grand were the blisters on her feet. Not having a car sucked.


    ¡°I should buy a bike¡­¡±


    Her gaze lingered on a couple riding down the road on their own bicycles. Then, once they turned the corner, she focused on another biker. He looked nice enough to flag down.


    ¡°Excuse me, sir!¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    As Max called out to him, the biker slowed down and came to a stop. He was wearing sunglasses, which he removed.


    ¡°Can I help you?¡±


    ¡°You can, actually,¡± Max said. She cleared her throat. ¡°I wanted to ask where you bought your bicycle. I don¡¯t have one and would like to buy one.¡±


    Even though she was perfectly polite, his eyebrows slowly furrowed. Then his mouth scrunched up as he thought.


    ¡°Uh, to tell you the truth, I have no idea,¡± he said. ¡°Sorry. I don¡¯t remember. I bought this bad boy years ago. I¡¯m sure there are bike shops around the area though. There are tourist maps at information centers, if that¡¯s what you need. I¡¯m not sure if they have a list of bike shops, though. You might need to use a phonebook. Sorry again.¡± Before Max could say anything, he hopped back on his bicycle and road away.


    Well, that was mostly useless. Max was going to ask if she could just buy his bike, but he ran off way too quickly. How rude was that? What a jerk.


    ¡°Looking on the bright side,¡± she said, pulling out her journal to write this down in her diary. ¡°He told me to: ¡®go to an information center and get a tourist map¡¯. That sounds like a good idea, so that¡¯ll be my next stop.¡±


    ¡­


    But Max just stood there on the side of the road as time passed. She didn¡¯t know where any information centers were. This was kind of hard. Well, if it was easy, then everyone would do it!


    ***


    After another five hours passed, Max was hopelessly lost. In the distance a clock rang out signifying that it was almost midnight, and Max let out a sigh. Perhaps she should try going back home? She was back to that soldier statue, which seemed somehow intimidating at night.


    That would be surrender! She thought. I¡¯d be proving that I¡¯m just a dainty little flower if I did that! Then it¡¯d make my maids and my sacrifice meaningless! Dad wouldn¡¯t listen and he¡¯d still send me off to get married...no, I need to tough it out. It really isn¡¯t that bad¡­


    Except she had no idea where she was, and no idea where she should go to sleep. The city is a dangerous place at night, she knew, especially for beautiful women like herself. There must be hotels or something around here that she could use. If not that, maybe she could go to a hostel? It was less than preferential, but it could work. She took a look at the tourist map she had purchased from the information center and tried to study it.


    Of course, it was useless.


    Max had no idea where she was on it. She didn¡¯t know any of the streets in the area, so she couldn¡¯t find her location. Why wasn¡¯t this more friendly for travellers? Nothing seemed to line up at all!


    Maybe spending the night on the streets wouldn¡¯t be so bad.


    She saw a group of tall men in black walk by, large mustaches on their face, talking about how much money they were going to get. They hadn¡¯t seen her, fortunately. There was a small crack in the wall where she could jump and hide in.


    ¡°I guess this is better than anything else,¡± Max said, quietly. She felt like her voice betrayed the hearty attitude she was trying to fool herself with. ¡°Is this really pointless?¡±


    ¡°Is what pointless?¡±


    Max flinched at the response and stared wide-eyed at the man who suddenly appeared outside the entrance to her tiny hiding place.


    He was tall and fit. Handsome. His hair was long and dirty blonde, tied into braids that wrapped around his head. A very feminine hairstyle, but with his sharp features, it almost made this stranger look like a fashion model. But his clothes betrayed that; he was wearing dark rags with a red shirt.


    ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t spook you, did I?¡± He asked. ¡°Didn¡¯t mean to, if I did. It¡¯s just that you¡¯re sitting on some of my stuff, and I was wondering if I could grab it from you.¡±


    ¡°What stuff?¡±


    ¡°Just take a peek under your butt and you¡¯ll find out.¡±


    Max fumbled around for a bit before finding a bag that was very obviously not her own. Way too rugged. She felt horribly embarrassed as she handed it over.


    ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t see it.¡±


    ¡°What? You¡¯re way too quiet sis,¡± the man said putting his ear closer. He was close. Close enough she could smell him. Surprisingly, he smelled really manly. Like someone who worked with cars. ¡°Eh, whatever. You squatting here?¡±


    ¡°Squatting?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you know,¡± he said. She didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Huh. Okay. Well, you aren¡¯t a cop, right? Gotta say, you don¡¯t look like one.¡±


    Why was he asking that?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not,¡± Max said. She was wary of this man as he slowly walked backwards to what she now saw was a group of other people. Many of them had strange colored hair and piercings. They were all dressed similarly to the man. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Me? Or us?¡±


    ¡°Both?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re just some friendly neighborhood pranksters,¡± the man said, smiling with half of his mouth. From his bag, he grabbed a can of spray paint. ¡°You wanna join?¡±


    As he spoke to her, she saw what the rest of his friends were doing. Using cans of paint, they were making a collage on the buildings, ground, and on the soldier fountain monument. All different forms of art, but there was a general theme from their work. Nature. Beautiful green trees sprouting from the ground, with animals and bright blue streams curving throughout the street. On the soldiers, they were painting his marble skin black and his clothes many shades of red.


    It suddenly became clear to her. The red and black. They were all wearing those colors, and when they finished a piece, they left a red and black line as a mark.


    ¡°You¡¯re anarchists,¡± Max said, dumbfounded. All the reading she had done suddenly felt validated. These were people who understood her. It was a sign that she had met them so suddenly. There was meaning to that. ¡°Am I right? Revolutionary punks?¡±


    The man rubbed at his chin.


    ¡°Yeah, I guess you could say that. More or less sums up the ideals we fight for,¡± he said. ¡°But more importantly: name¡¯s Arco. Arco Jacks. No really. That¡¯s my name. Pretty cool right? Nice to meet you, little miss wall fixture.¡±


    Max climbed out of the wall. His jab at her was playful, but she didn¡¯t want to look weird. When she was standing and started dusting herself off, Arco held out a hand. With some hesitation, she took it.


    ¡°Max Vasquez. Nice to meet you, Arco Jacks.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± Arco said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Jacks and Vasquez, huh? Those are pretty similar sounding names, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Max said. ¡°They are. What a coincidence. Can¡­¡± Her voice trailed off. It was too much to ask for.


    But Arco knew what she was asking for, and he handed her a canister of spray paint. Her eyes were focused on it like she was staring at manna from heaven. To her, this was one of the most precious things in the world.


    ¡°Fuck yeah. Go crazy! Show these fucking capitalist pigs who the fuck you are!¡±


    It was the spark that lit her crazy and Max allowed all the stress pent up inside her body to spill out on the pavement in front of her.

 Chapter 3: Pumped up Kicks

    Bruno was able to smash the door off the hinges without any difficulty at all. It shattered as it sped through the room. He took one step in with a wide smile on his face but it immediately turned upside down.


    There was blood everywhere.


    Like an entire bathtub of blood was spilled across the floor, then someone came with a mop made of intestines to scrub it in deeper. The walls were red and shards of bone pierced through wood. Even the ceiling was splattered, and threads of red hung like stalactites of a crimson red cave. Bruno was not someone with a weak stomach or heart. No, not at all. He was a psychopath who didn¡¯t care about anything but overpowering others. He crushed the skulls of women and children the same as fully grown men. But this¡­


    This was a new level of debauchery that caused his jaw to drop and his mind to go momentarily blank. Incomprehensible violence that disturbs the senses.


    Standing in the center of the room, covered in blood, were three people. Staring at Bruno. They weren¡¯t shocked at all. Rather, their faces were cold and blank stares of death. The room suddenly felt unbearable cold to the massive murder fanatic.


    ¡°Yo! What ya¡¯ spacing out for, boss?¡±


    Rolly, standing right behind Bruno, had no idea what was going on, so he slapped his boss on the shoulder.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Bruno said slowly. He aimed an eye at Rolly, then his mind returned to focus. ¡°Nothing at all.¡±


    He grabbed the gun from the front of his pants and pointed it at the group of people in the center of the room. A sawed-off shotgun. The type which can¡¯t normally be shot like a pistol. But Bruno didn¡¯t have any trouble with that.


    ¡°Get on the fucking ground,¡± he said, stepping into the room without hesitation. The blood was deeper than it looked and splashed with each step. ¡°GET FUCKING DOWN!¡±


    The back door for the bar was kicked open and Jack entered from that side. He didn¡¯t say anything, like a classic africalos, but held two pistols out. Rolly was the last in the room. The two men hesitated upon seeing the blood, but with their boss taking lead, were quick to recover.


    ¡°Get down!¡±


    The shouting snapped the three in the center of the room from their stupor, and their eyes widened. All three dropped down and begged at the same time.


    ¡°I surrender!¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t us!¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t shoot!¡±


    Among other things. They didn¡¯t stop repeating themselves, even with their hands on their heads face down in fresh blood. It was getting annoying.


    ¡°Shut the fuck up,¡± Bruno said. Suddenly the room became very quiet. He looked at Rolly. ¡°Go grab me some wine. There¡¯s gotta be some around here. It is a bar.¡±


    ¡°Why the fuck do I gotta do that?¡±


    ¡°Just fucking do it,¡± Bruno replied, shutting his friend down. ¡°Now, for you three. I only gotta take one of you, and I¡¯m just gonna let the other two live. Well, if you make it easy for me. I¡¯m looking for some mother fucker named Max. Which one of you is it?¡±


    The kid in the middle gasped at hearing his name, and his friends looked at him.


    That was easy, Bruno thought. ¡°Get the fuck up kid. Before I blow your fucking brains out.¡±


    Slowly Max started getting up to his feet, head still facing down. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and cracking. He was stuttering but trying not to.


    ¡°W-what do you w-want?¡±


    Bruno grabbed Max by the throat and forced the kid to look him in the eye. While the tiny man struggled against the gangster¡¯s grip, it didn¡¯t do much. Bruno¡¯s entire hand was large enough to wrap around Max¡¯s throat, and Max was incredibly weak. They had no choice but to stare at each other to the sounds of Max gasping for air when Rolly brought over a bottle of rum. Bruno returned his sawed-off to his pants.


    ¡°Here ya¡¯ go, boss.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Bruno said. He popped the stopper off with his teeth, then swigged a mouthful down. He took another mouthful, swished it around for a second, then spit it into his hostage¡¯s face. ¡°Wipe your fucking face off. I gotta make sure you look like the kid in the picture. You better fucking hope you¡¯re the right one.¡±


    Max did what he was told. Bruno handed the bottle back and pulled a small picture from his pocket. He compared the faces.


    ¡°What do you think, Rolly?¡±


    ¡°Looks like a match to me, boss. I think we¡¯re fucking good.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, this has got to be a match,¡± Bruno said. He slipped the photo back into his pocket. ¡°Kid, I got two fucking questions for you. Each one you answer wrong and I blow out a kneecap, ya digg?¡±


    ¡°P-please¡­¡±


    ¡°First question: are you some rich senator¡¯s kid? You got rich parents who¡¯d pay big wads of cash to get you back?¡±


    Max gulped down air.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Bingo. Second question: you gonna try and fuck with me? Or you gonna let us tie you up and bring you back to our base?¡±


    Nobody had noticed, but the two people at Bruno¡¯s feet had been whispering to each other. Immediately after asking his second question, they enacted their plan: try to run out the front door. It was a mad sprint and the only person who reacted in time was Jack, who opened fire at the two, his bullets barely passing by his friends.


    ¡°What the fuck!?¡±


    Bruno slipped and fell back in the blood, accidentally slamming Max¡¯s face down on the ground hard. The kid went limp in his hands.


    ¡°Jack what the fuck are you doing!? Rolly, you chase after those two mother fuckers and kill ¡®em. Don¡¯t come back unless they¡¯re fucking dead, you hear me?¡±


    ¡°Fuck!¡±


    Rolly did his best to sprint after the two runners.


    ***


    --Five minutes earlier--


    The sweat droplet from his nose fell down. Before it hit the ground, something stepped into the room. From the center of the circle, a creature entered from a two dimensional line, from every viewpoint as though it were hidden behind an invisible wall. It was a tall and gaunt man, completely naked, with pale white skin. Instead of a regular head, a black lion¡¯s mane wrapped around a human¡¯s face, with purely red eyes and black ornate tattoos wrapping around that hairless face. Around his arms and legs were slithering snakes, however, none of them had beginnings or ends; these snakes had nothing but tails and didn¡¯t seem to end no matter how long one followed their length with eyes.


    When he spoke, it sounded like a whisper. But it was booming enough to shatter all the glass in the room and pop everyone¡¯s eardrums. Blood leaked from their noses.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    ¡°Good evening, someone called for me?¡± The devil asked. He took one step forward, out of the area designated for him on the circle. ¡°Oh, you seemed to have made the binding incorrectly.¡±


    It pointed down at the lines of blood.


    ¡°You see, right here?¡±


    The blood separated itself. It had been perfect, but it didn¡¯t matter. The devil simply chose to ignore the restrictions the circle was supposed to impose on it, and there was nobody in the room with the authority to prevent him from doing so.


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t say that I don¡¯t mind being summoned. All this decoration, and all this work, it makes me happy. I¡¯m always so glad to know that my being lives on as a vestige in the heads of pathetic humans. When I return to hell, I¡¯ll make sure to bring your souls along with me. Then, me and all my devil friends will laugh at you. Funny, isn¡¯t it? You¡¯ve all taken such precaution, but it all amounts to nothing, doesn¡¯t it? Okay, well, first thing¡¯s first. I¡¯m going to kill 90% of you.¡±


    In an instant, 26 people exploded, their gore showering the room in viscera. None stained the devil. He took another step, and it became clear that it wasn¡¯t that the showers of flesh didn¡¯t touch it. Instead, the human material passed right through him to spill on the floor below.


    Max was one of the survivors. He couldn¡¯t speak. The devil¡¯s voice serrated the inside of his throat and all he could do was cough up blood. He spat some into his hands. Ah, this isn¡¯t good, he thought. In his hands were pieces of lung.


    ¡°Congratulations,¡± the devil said, clapping his hands together in a mock display. The snakes hissed inaudibly. ¡°You four are the survivors, and for the sheer virtue of being lucky, I¡¯m going to reward you. Of course, I should first introduce myself, no? I know all of your names and deepest secrets, so it wouldn¡¯t be fair for me not to offer some courtesy at the very least, no? I am the 59th Regent of Hell, 11th Great Marquis, That Who Presides Over Flesh, Oriaxs. It is I who is currently here before you, and upon your death, I will be the one to take your souls and pleasure myself with them. If it excites you to know, my normal torture for souls involves coverting your body into a blob of flesh without outer facing eyes or ears or any moving parts, then dropping those nuggets of man into pools of flesh eating roaches. Over the course of many ears, your body will be feasted on, as vermin burrow deeper into it, laying eggs and forming colonies like ants do within sand. Then perhaps after a few dozen centuries of this, they¡¯ll finally enter your core, where you have a face, and will be able to scream and cry all you like. This is only one of the few tortures I enjoy damning people with. I can personally guarantee that every single one of your companions who recently died will be going through that. For the four of you, however, I will be doing something special. Of course, I won¡¯t be telling you, because that defeats the purpose of surprise. What I can assure you though is that it will be far worse.


    ¡°So I might recommend you try to live your life for as long as possible. Those sweet memories will serve as tools to help you hold on to your sanity while suffering in my domain of hell. And because I¡¯m not an unfair master, I will be making it a bit easier to do so. At this moment, you can all claim to be my daemon.


    ¡°Daemon of Flesh...that has a catchy ring to it, no? Ah, you¡¯re all a weak audience. How boring, if you ask me. I prefer the talkative ones, as rare as they are. But I guess it makes sense that none of you can speak, after all, my mere presence destroyed all of your internal organs, and the only reason you¡¯re even capable of standing right now is because I¡¯ve paused all of creation to keep your bodies alive. As soon as I return to hell, you will all begin dying. Unfortunate. Sorry! But don¡¯t worry, there¡¯s one easy way to survive!


    ¡°The blessing I granted you. From this point until you die, you can do whatever you want with anyone¡¯s bodies that you touch! Mold ¡®em, shape ¡®em, turn ¡®em into dogs or plants, or even heal em; I don¡¯t care. It can help keep you alive, too. Say goodbye old age. Keep yourself young forever, doesn¡¯t that sound nice? You could avoid meeting me in hell that way. Turn yourself basically immortal. Of course, there is a catch to this. Any use of my blessing requires you to have a digesting intestine full of flesh from a still living human. So, before I leave, if you all can choose one of your friends to devour, then you can heal yourselves back up to perfect health. Since time is frozen, I¡¯ll make sure to stay for 2 hours to make sure you don¡¯t just die before digesting the flesh...however, you better act quickly. And pray you don¡¯t have a full-¡±


    Before Oriaxs could even finish his lecture, Max was in action. He grabbed a chair leg that had been set on the bar counter and slammed it on the head of the closest person he could find. Before they even hit the floor, the other two cultists in the room rushed over to the downed person and were chewing at his unconscious face.


    ¡°-bellies. Huh. Well, okay, I¡¯ll admit it, while I wasn¡¯t impressed at first, that was pretty good right there. Not expecting immediate betrayal before I even said go, hah. Who was it? Maxwell Vasquez? The delusional failed brat from a family of pathetic losers? Interesting. I¡¯ve got high hopes for you, kid. You better not fuck it up, yeah? You know what, I don¡¯t want to waste any time here, so I¡¯ll just take this guy right here from you. You¡¯re all just gonna munch on him, and that¡¯s a waste of time, plus I¡¯ve got things to do.¡±


    Benny¡¯s body disappeared.


    ¡°And I¡¯ll just heal you all up. Alright, stand up, all together. Chop chop!¡±


    The three limped to the center of the room. Max hadn¡¯t paid any attention to the other survivors until now, but he realized one of them was Eren. The other was one of the few female cultists, Lisa. They were grouped together, all silent.


    Oriaxs snapped his fingers and the snakes wrapped around his hands.


    ¡°There, perfectly healed. Well, I guess this is about the time I should be getting out of here. Yeah, have fun, but just remember that at the end, you¡¯ll be coming back to me.¡±


    The front door was kicked across the room.


    ***


    --Ten minutes later--


    ¡°What the fuck...where the hell did they go?¡±


    Truly, it was incomprehensible. Rolly was chasing the two out into the maze of alleyways in the city, and it shouldn¡¯t have been difficult to catch either of them. For one, they were both covered in wet blood, and the drips were obvious. The other, more telling factor would be that one of the two escapees had been shot. Rolly saw it with his own two eyes.


    And while he had been chasing them, one was limping, forced to be supported by his friend. That was how even with a head start, he had been gaining on them. But now he had lost their track.


    How?


    The bloodtrail led directly to a dead end. Three walls, from buildings, lifting at least five meters in the air. For a few seconds, Rolly considered whether someone could clamber up it, but that just wouldn¡¯t be possible. Especially with a bullet wound to the leg.


    There were no doors. There was no sewer entrance. There weren¡¯t any dumpsters or containers to hide in. No windows that could¡¯ve been open. It was a truly miraculous disappearance.


    ¡°God damn,¡± he said. ¡°What am I supposed to do now?¡±


    An order from Bruno was one you needed to comply with. When he told you to kill someone, he wanted you to come back with proof.


    ¡®I need to know, 100%¡¯.


    That stubborn asshole would make his life impossible. Rolly brushed his mustache in thought. There was a possible solution that came immediately to mind, but it was quite a risky one. Even if he succeeded in pulling it off, there was no guarantee Bruno wouldn¡¯t just find out some other way.


    What he was picturing was:


    First, finding three homeless people. He would beat the shit out of them, then shoot them in back a few times each. It¡¯d need to be in a place where people wouldn¡¯t call the cops over gunfire, but in this part of town, he was pretty sure he¡¯d be fine. Once he finished doing that, he would take his knife and cut the jugular of the third person and drench the other two in blood. Or at least their heads. Then, he would saw them off with his knife and toss all three into the river. With two bloody heads, if they were beaten and bruised, Bruno would probably just take him at his word.


    The biggest risk was if someone else saw the bloody people running after that. If they happened to stumble across the two later, the jig would be up.


    Considering that, he found a solution.


    He just needed to pretend that it took all night to find the two escapees. The Big Boss¡¯s plan was to stay cooped up at the warehouse for the next few days doing the hostage plan, so it was unlikely that they¡¯d accidentally run into the two. On the other hand, if those two were actually good enough friends with Matt or whatever, maybe they¡¯d figure out how to botch the job?


    ¡°Huh, well, I guess it doesn¡¯t matter, in the end.¡±


    Ultimately, he had no choice at this point. They were long gone. Too much time spent standing in one place thinking to himself.


    Rolly stretched himself out and decided to spend the rest of his night leisurely trying to find three homeless people sitting close enough to each other. No point in trying to work his brain when there wasn¡¯t anyone who would notice.


    ***


    ¡°Damn, there¡¯s gonna be blood everywhere,¡± Bruno said, slamming the trunk shut with the unconscious body of Max inside. ¡°This better pay well. Yo, Jack, what the fuck do you think happened in there? With the blood and shit?¡±


    Jack was a man of few words. Most africans are. But this was one of the few situations where he spoke, revealing his bizarre mishmash of an accent.


    ¡°Iza dark shit. Dat da type o¡¯ shit with demons.¡±


    ¡°Demons? Fucking hell, you think this kid was doing that shit?¡±


    Jack just shrugged and the two men got into the car. There was no reason to wait for Rolly. He could find his way back to the hideout on his own, and neither of the two Gordoli members had any doubts about their friend¡¯s killing ability. When it came to hunting in the streets, there wasn¡¯t anyone better than Rolly the Roller. Before he was a Gordoli, Rolly was a punk who sliced apart mafia members for fun.


    What was currently on Bruno¡¯s mind was the scene of macabre from the bar. A demon, huh? If I was able to do something like that, would people see me as a demon?


    He smiled to himself.


    That type of simple pleasure was his entire reason for living. The drive back to the warehouse was pleasant and the radio played jazz.

 Chapter 4: Paris in the Rain

    Sirens rang out like hellhounds released upon the scene. The revolutionary anarchist artists scrambled away from the lights of the cop cars like roaches, diving into alleyways and scaling walls to parkour away. When the first light shone, Max was frozen in place. She had never gotten in trouble with the police before. Would they be sending her to jail? There couldn¡¯t be a more cruel ending to her fairy tail¡­


    ¡°The hell are you doing?¡± Arco said, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the cop cars. ¡°You trying to get caught? You some kind of masochist or something?¡±


    ¡°A-ah, no, n-nothing like that,¡± Max said, flushing. ¡°I just...I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re kinda strange aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Arco said it without even the slightest tone of condescension. Max wasn¡¯t able to figure him out.


    He stopped, then stooped down halfway. He put one hand to the back of her thighs, then swung it up fast enough to force her into his carry. It was too unexpected and quick for Max to anticipate, so she let out a quick yelp and grabbed his shirt. In the blink of an eye, they were zooming down the streets. Max was never the type of person who exercised much, so she was surprised he could move so well, especially while carrying her.


    And it wasn¡¯t even uncomfortable to be carried, like she might have thought. Even though his movements were direct and sharp, his body felt like a warm but rugged sofa.


    There was a moment of weightlessness when he vaulted over the edge of a bridge. Then he bounced off of a fencepost by the canal and was on the other side. Such a fluid motion that it felt like Arco had done it thousands of times. He loosened his hold and set her down on the ground at the edge of the road, then took a step away while watching her.


    ¡°Yo, crazy girl,¡± he said. His hair was all messy, so he grabbed it and pulled it back into a ponytail. ¡°You got some place to be? Or was your plan to just sleep in the nicest rock wall you can find?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡±


    She didn¡¯t. That was obvious. No way he didn¡¯t know that. Getting a nice warm place to sleep was her greatest desire at the moment.


    But she had only just met this guy, and he seemed super dangerous. Literally a revolutionary anarchist. Though it was sort of cool. Well, he did help her get away from the police, which meant he wasn¡¯t a bad guy or anything. In that case¡­


    ¡°I don¡¯t have anywhere to go,¡± Max said. ¡°I¡¯m homeless right now.¡±


    ¡°Damn. That sucks.¡± He smirked.


    !!!


    How could he do that!? Was he just going to ask her that then not invite her to his house? What kind of person does that? Rude!


    Before she could voice those thoughts, Arco cocked his head to the side.


    ¡°In that case, while I don¡¯t wanna be weird or anything, you could spend the night at my place,¡± he said. ¡°No pressure or obligations for sex or anything. Just figured that from one anarchist to another, we should probably have each other¡¯s back, yeah? Whatdya think?¡±


    All she could think was how brazenly he brought up having sex. That was definitely not the type of thing you were supposed to say to a lady!


    ¡°Sure,¡± Max said quietly. ¡°But just for one night. And no...obligations or pressure.¡±


    ¡°Hah, yeah, no worries,¡± he said, taking a quick step over and handing over her backpack. She hadn¡¯t even realized she wasn¡¯t wearing it. ¡°You don¡¯t gotta worry about me. I¡¯m a gentleman! Well, I¡¯m gentle, at the very least.¡±


    He seemed to think that was funny, but Max was just worried about whether she was making the right choice or not.


    ***


    By the time Nick and his men got to the warehouse, Bruno was already there, washing blood from his hands at the communal sink. A few of the other guys were there as well, talking casually, but everyone got silent as Nick entered the room, rubbing at his scar. Even though he¡¯d had it for a few months, occasionally when he was too active parts of it would start to bleed and scab over, and as he rubbed his face, he saw fingers covered in blood.


    ¡°How¡¯d it go, little bro?¡±


    ¡°We got him,¡± Bruno said, giving a wide smile. ¡°Some weird shit though. Jack says it looked like devil summoning or something like that.¡±


    ¡°Devil summoning?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Everything was going pretty well to start, since there wasn¡¯t nobody near the bar when we snuck in. But once I busted down the door, there was just blood everywhere! Little bits of human sticking to the walls and ceiling! Didn¡¯t phase us, though, and we grabbed the kid. He¡¯s in a backroom all tied up right now. Unconscious.¡±


    Nick took everything in without questioning it, but he couldn¡¯t visualize it. Well, he could imagine a room filled with blood, but one that bothered his younger brother? The younger brother who had crushed skulls with his bare hands before?


    Well, that was unimportant.


    ¡°You¡¯re absolutely sure you got the right person?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely sure, bro,¡± Bruno said. ¡°I made sure to ask him specifically. Even checked his wallet. Here, if you want to take a look.¡±


    There wasn¡¯t much in the wallet. An identification card and a few bills and coins. The type of wallet you would carry if you were either poor or scared of being pickpocketed. While it did seem unbefitting of a rich person to do, going to seedy underground bars and trying to summon devils was also unusual. The ID did check out. Maxwell Vasquez.


    ¡°Oh! Looks like grabbing the girl worked out well too!¡±


    Bruno exclaimed this because while Nick was looking at Max¡¯s ID, the two men who assisted Nick, Frank and Lyle, were carrying in the crumpled form of Maxine Vasquez. Unlike Maxwell, she didn¡¯t have any form of identification in her purse, but since she was with Jeanne Vasquez, there wasn¡¯t any need to doubt her identity.


    ¡°Yes, everything went well on our end,¡± Nick said. He took off the servant hat that Vasquez servants wore and tossed it aside. ¡°The wife suspected nothing. She¡¯ll be sitting around at some restaurant waiting all night for her husband, without even knowing both her children were stolen away. Now, we¡¯re going to need to get some proof that we¡¯re holding onto them for the ransom note.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry about that bro,¡± Bruno said, holding out a bad. ¡°I already took care of that.¡±


    ¡°You did what?¡±


    Nick hesitated at grabbing the brown paper bag. It wasn¡¯t entirely paper; the bottom of the bag was dripping and red with blood. When the Gordoli head took a look inside, what he saw was disappointing. Bruno was a good underling usually, but he did stupid shit often. Nick pulled out the disembodied ear.


    ¡°Did you fucking cut off the kid¡¯s ear?¡±


    The tone of disapproval made Bruno¡¯s smile change to a frown. The other gang members quieted down, tension in the air heavy. Maxine¡¯s body was slumped down on a table.


    ¡°Uh...yeah? I knew we were going to be sending proof that they¡¯re alive, so I just thought-¡±


    ¡°You thought sending them their son¡¯s fucking ear cut off was a good idea? You dumb fuck! What if Lenore gets fucking spooked and decides to just go to the police? Then not only do we not get paid, but we could get fucking arrested and put to death! This is why I tell you dumbasses not to make decisions without fucking telling me! You better have good news for me Dominic.¡±


    While Nick was ranting violently enough to spit on Bruno, Dominic had snuck in through the back door. The youngest Gordoli brother smiled weakly.


    ¡°Everything good big bro. Nobody followed you and nobody even noticed what happened.¡±


    ¡°Good, good,¡± Nick said. ¡°Now here, Bruno, let me show you how to not be an idiot.¡±


    In a quick motion, Nick flicked out a small knife. The entire room watched as he slowly strode to Maxine¡¯s unconscious body and lowered his blade. He took her hair and pulled it up tight behind her head, then sawed through it. When he was finished, in his hand he held a huge bundle of dark brown hair. Then, he grabbed her head and adjusted it until he could see her neck underneath. Using the knife, he cut through her choker necklace and wrapped it around the recently cut hair. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°See? Was it that hard?¡±


    Nick slipped the knife back in his sheathe and tossed the package of hair on the table next to the brown dirty bag. He twirled his finger around in the air.


    ¡°Frank. Go take her and put her in another room. Make sure there¡¯s nothing too dangerous and lock the door. We don¡¯t want ¡®em escaping OR killing themselves. At least not until we¡¯ve got our money. Got it?¡±


    ¡°Got it, boss.¡±


    ¡°And for the rest of you? Keep a lookout on the perimeter. Dom says we weren¡¯t followed, but we gotta be sure there isn¡¯t anybody stepping on our turf that could mess this up. Especially right now. Once we get that cash, everything will be smooth sailing. All we need to do is make sure nothing ruins our plan.¡±


    ***


    --Earlier--


    In the middle of the street, in the middle of the night, with light only coming from the cloudy sky, two people drenched head to toe in drying blood were frozen in their footsteps. It was still sprinkling, and a trail of blood from the two came from a nearby alley. One of them was bleeding from his leg, held up by his female companion.


    Hanson and Honey gave each other a look, then looked back to the two.


    ¡°How many people you gotta kill to end up like that?¡± Hanson asked.


    Before anyone could answer, a voice echoed from out of the alley.


    ¡°Where are ya¡¯? I¡¯m gonna find you~ I¡¯m gonna find you and kiiiiiiill~you!¡±


    The chant made the two blood covered vagrants shiver in fear. Honey gave a big sigh and slapped Hanson on the back.


    ¡°You running from somebody?¡± She asked, walking towards the alley the screaming came from. ¡°That¡¯s gonna kill you after they find you? Sounds rough. If you¡¯re willing to pay for your lives, then I recommend following after my friend.¡±


    While Honey was talking, Hanson made his way down an alley across the street. He waved the two over, and they reluctantly followed him. He knew his ways around these streets like the back of his hand. This was his world, and he was the king. To the people following him, there was no confidence. Hanson¡¯s sudden turns and sporadic decisions seemed like they were being made completely at random, but it wasn¡¯t much better than the two on their own. When they finally caught up with him, they were at a dead end. But that didn¡¯t mean they couldn¡¯t go forward.


    ¡°Here, get on my shoulders,¡± Hanson said, crouching a bit with his back to the two. ¡°Hold tight, please. Oh, I¡¯m Hanson, by the way. My friend is Honey. But you can call her Ugly Bitch if you want. That¡¯s what everyone else does.¡±


    The sounds of the rabid gangster were not far off, so Eren and Lisa had no choice but to climb on his back and pray.


    Lisa had only closed her eyes for a second before they were on the other side of the wall. That wasn¡¯t normal. She hadn¡¯t seen him do anything, but it was clear what she felt. Hanson was able to bounce between the two walls and climb over the rest of the wall in only a moment. Impossible for humans to do.


    But then¡­


    They had summoned a devil, so who is to say what is and isn¡¯t possible?


    ¡°Come on,¡± Hanson said. ¡°He won¡¯t be able to get over, so we should be pretty good from this point on. You both need to get cleaned up, though, so you can come over to our place. Just follow me. Otherwise, who knows what might happen?¡± His lips curled up in a cruel smile.


    ***


    The siblings¡¯ home wasn¡¯t anything spectacular. A dingy little wooden building with its back to the river and no direct connection to any streets. They didn¡¯t have any running water, so the only thing Lisa could use to shower herself was the buckets of water brought to her. There was also a brush and some soap, but they were coarse and basic. Lisa hadn¡¯t ever lived a life of luxury, rather, her family was pretty low class. But this was a new level of destitute reserved for only the most impoverished. No electricity or even glass windows.


    And even as run down as this place was, one thing stood out as completely remarkable. It was spotless. No dust or dirt anywhere. After finally scrubbing all of the blood from her hair, she realized why.


    When she entered the living room, Honey was cleaning everything with meticulous detail.


    Eren wasn¡¯t anywhere to be seen. It was almost something she considered asking, but Lisa realized she didn¡¯t really care. Why would she? There was a lot going on. Suddenly, she was reminded of the fact that all of her friends had just been killed before her eyes by an entity above all evil with a snap of its fingers. The realization that at any moment, it could appear before her and drag her to Hell¡­


    The fear started to paralyze her. Her head was aching and cold beads of sweat were forming along the creases of her body. So much blood. She ate the flesh of another person. And in the future, unless she wanted to go to Hell, she would need to eat more.


    Cannibal.


    That frigid air flowing through the windows made her skin prickle. The sprinkle from earlier changed into complete rain. The whispers from each drop were reminiscent of the sound of blood dripping from the ceiling.


    Honey punched Lisa in the throat.


    The stunned woman fell to the floor and clutched at her windpipe as she struggled to breath. Her savior (?) put a foot on top of Lisa¡¯s chest and held her down.


    ¡°Stop fucking ignoring me,¡± Honey said, taking a swig from a bottle of wine. ¡°I¡¯m asking you a question, and I saved your life. Don¡¯t be an asshole.¡±


    Lisa coughed out an apology.


    ¡°Yeah, whatever. You¡¯re good, just pay attention. Or should we take you to the hospital like your friend?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s at the...hospital?¡±


    Lisa was doing the best to collect herself and crawled onto her knees. She was too weak to stand, and her throat hurt now more than anything else.


    ¡°Well duh. He got shot in the leg. After getting shot, you need to get the wound checked on as soon as possible. The longer you wait, the more likely a complication could occur, and your chance of living starts dropping pretty spectacularly. Fortunately, the closest place is pretty decent at treating bullet wounds. But back to business: answer my questions so I can figure out how much you owe us. Why were you two completely covered in blood, and who was the guy chasing you?¡±


    Neither were questions Lisa could answer. The first because of the sheer ludicrousness of the situation, and the second because she didn¡¯t know who the guy was.


    So she gawked.


    Lisa was a pretty plain looking girl naturally. She knew this. Growing up in a poor family in a poor neighborhood as a girl without any special skills, you realize your best way out of poverty are your looks. Dress up looking cute, wear your hair cleanly, and smile. Men don¡¯t care very much about your social standing, so long as they find you attractive. Marrying up was a common dream with her social peers.


    That always seemed like a disgusting answer. How was that any better than whoring yourself out like a prostitute? To expel even the possibility that notion ever entering her mind, she decided in her teens to make it impossible. Using a razor blade, Lisa has sliced a scar across her face, from the left ear to the right across her nose. Then she kept her hair always in a strange fashion. She shaved the sides and braided the rest of it backwards, mixing it with men¡¯s pomade to keep it stiff. It was an unconventional look that made people avoid looking at her. This was her way of staying sane.


    If Lisa was doing everything to make herself look attractive, the woman asking her questions was the exact opposite.


    Long eyelashes, fashionable make-up, tanned skin, and the most modern clothes. This was the kind of person Lisa would look down on, even though they were the same age. In this situation, however, the one being looked down on was Lisa. Even though Honey was just holding a bottle of cheap wine, it felt like there was a gun being pressed to Lisa¡¯s forehead.


    ¡°Are you gonna answer or what? This is getting annoying. Tell me so I can go to sleep; I had a pretty good day up til now, so you being so stingy is making it worse by magnitudes. Are you hitmen?¡±


    ¡°Hitmen?¡±


    ¡°Ah, so you can hear me,¡± Honey said, growing a smile. ¡°Answer my earlier questions. Or do I seriously need to ask you again? Why are you covered in blood, and who was after you?¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°Jesus christ! We go out of our way to save your life, then give you a place to stay and help you clean up, and this is how you react? Ungrateful. Okay, whatever I was originally going to charge you for your help just got doubled. If you make me wait any longer, it¡¯ll triple. Got it?¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Lisa said, averting her eyes from Honey¡¯s cruel gaze. ¡°I don¡¯t really know what to say. Even if I told you, you probably wouldn¡¯t believe it¡­¡±


    ¡°Just fucking tell me already. Let¡¯s get this over with you drama queen. Don¡¯t make me kill you when I could have just let that shady guy do it.¡±


    Maybe it wouldn''t be so bad being killed, Lisa thought. Though at this point, she couldn¡¯t do anything but regret the devil summoning ritual. In hindsight, that should have been obvious. They were all fools.


    No, that was wrong.


    She needed to live.


    That idea appeared in her mind. She needed to live. Not for herself, but for everyone else who died in that ritual. Eren was shot and might die from blood loss, and Max was abducted by some scary looking guys. If all three of them died, then what was the point of everyone¡¯s sacrifice? It would be in vain. Therefore, someone needed to carry on their lives. And at this point, only one person could do it, and if she died here, it would all be over.


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll talk.¡±


    Honey cocked her head.


    ¡°We...were doing a ritual. There was a group of us, and we accidentally summoned a devil. It killed almost every single one of us.¡±


    ¡°Hold on, you summoned a devil accidentally? How does something like that happen?¡±


    ¡°Well, no, it wasn¡¯t accidental, but we didn¡¯t know what would happen,¡± Lisa said, then paused. Wait. Did this woman really believe her? There was nothing that looked like doubt in Honey¡¯s eyes, so it seemed like she took it as the absolute truth. ¡°But yeah, we summoned a devil. There were 30 of us, and it killed almost all of us. That¡¯s why we¡¯re covered in blood.¡±


    ¡°Ooooh, that makes sense. And the person chasing you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure, honestly,¡± Lisa said. ¡°After we finished the ritual, some guys burst into the building and grabbed our leader, Max. They wanted him for something...I thought it was the police, so I figured we were going to jail. Eren told me that the only way for us to get out was to make a break for it, so we did. The guy chasing us was one of those men. Sorry, I don¡¯t know who they were. After the devil summoning ritual...my mind went a little bit blank.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yeah, okay, everything sort of comes together,¡± Honey said. She turned her back to Lisa and went to the tiny couch in the living room. It was one of the few pieces of furniture in this desolate house. She sat in it. ¡°Okay, then that makes the next steps of negotiation easy. Normally, I¡¯d ask for 50,000 franc for saving a life, and with the calculations in my mind...for saving two of you then doubling the cost, it¡¯d be 200,000 franc. You got that kind of cash to pay back?¡±


    There was no way. It must have shown on Lisa¡¯s scarred face.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I thought,¡± Honey continued. ¡°Instead, we can go based on a system of favors. Basically, I did you a huge favor, so you need to repay me back until I feel like you¡¯re good. Sound unfair? Yeah, it is. Absolutely. Totally. But I saved your life, so if I really wanted to, I should be able to just tell you to die and you do it for me. Instead, I bet there are plenty of things we can work out.¡±


    Lisa was speechless. She couldn¡¯t argue against what Honey was trying to suggest. Not only did this gaudy woman make sense with her requests, but what she was suggesting fit along the line of morals Lisa kept. Maybe this wouldn¡¯t be as bad as it seemed.


    ¡°So, my new question to figure out how you pay our favors is: who was the devil you summoned, and what kind of gift did you get?¡±

 Chapter 5: Perfect Illusion

    --The next morning, Friday, Maxine¡¯s Story, 12 hours before the accident--


    The smell of meat being cooked was an aroma Max had never woken up to before. She was always too far from the kitchen. It wasn¡¯t a bad feeling. After a moment, her brain reminded her of everything that happened the day before and she realized where she was. In the dark, it hadn¡¯t looked so bad, but as the morning sunlight illuminated the room, it was worse.


    Some shabby apartment. The couch she was sleeping on was a faded red and green with patches missing. There were empty beer bottles filling a garbage bin in the corner, and a bag of trash sat next to it. Multiple stains colored the drab carpet and wallpaper was peeling off where water had damaged the walls. There was a television across from the couch, but it had a huge crack through the middle of it. Right next to it was a rifle.


    Because she didn¡¯t have anywhere else to go, Arco let her sleep on his couch. She still didn¡¯t trust him very much, but there were no other options. Anyway, wasn¡¯t she just mistrustful because he seemed lower class? She shouldn¡¯t be so classist. This was how normal people lived, and it was what she needed to adapt to.


    As she started getting up, the blanket she was using fell and knocked over a beer bottle, which clattered loudly on the floor as it rolled away. She realized the entire room was slightly shifted to an angle.


    ¡°You awake?¡±


    Arco peeked his head from around a corner to ask. Max smiled.


    ¡°Yeah, seems like it,¡± she said. ¡°Thanks for giving me a place to stay. Like I said, I¡¯m really homeless, and I don¡¯t know much about the city.¡±


    ¡°New to the area?¡±


    It felt wrong to tell the truth. He was a revolutionary, which meant he wasn¡¯t a big fan of the upper class. Wouldn¡¯t he just think of her as some snobby rich kid pretending to be an anarchist as a trend? Plenty of them existed; she had met some in university. This was her best opportunity at getting in with a group of like-minded individuals, so making herself look good was important.


    ¡°Something like that,¡± Max eventually decided to say. A non-committal answer. ¡°Have you lived here long?¡±


    ¡°All my life, honestly,¡± Arco said, going back to cooking. ¡°I was born down in the slums and grew up in the streets. Pretty regular story, though. Everyone has tough lives, so there isn¡¯t any point in bellowing out our sob stories. I¡¯m alive right now, and that¡¯s all that matters. You don¡¯t mind bacon, right?¡±


    Bacon.


    She¡¯d never actually had any. It was peasant food, and her mother never allowed the cooks to serve any.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°Great. I¡¯ll have it done in just a second.¡± There was a pause before he continued. ¡°So, I hope you don¡¯t mind me asking, but you planning on staying in the city for a while? It ain¡¯t easy just living in holes.¡±


    ¡°I was thinking about it,¡± Max said. This was sort-of the truth. Really, there wasn¡¯t any plan. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t really know anybody here, so it¡¯d be tough.¡±


    ¡°What are ya¡¯ talking about? You know at least one person. Where ya¡¯ from originally?¡±


    ¡°Not sure.¡±


    ¡°No idea? You an orphan or an amnesiac? Well, never mind, it doesn¡¯t matter. Who am I to try and dig into other people¡¯s past? If you aren¡¯t sure whether you¡¯re gonna stay or not, where are you gonna go?¡±


    ¡°Wherever the wind takes me,¡± Max said. ¡°I want to see the world.¡±


    Arco didn¡¯t respond as he came out of the kitchen with two plates of food. He tossed one on the coffee table in front of the couch and set his on a counter near a barstool.


    ¡°Bon appetit. Bacon and hash. Five star meal, according to those who¡¯ve tried it.¡±


    There weren¡¯t any utensils, so Max was forced to eat with her hands. It was¡­


    Wow.


    For some reason, it was really good. Like, it was incredibly good. Why didn¡¯t more people eat this stuff? The way it melted in her mouth was worth the entire journey she¡¯d taken so far.


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good. Wow, are you like a chef?¡±


    ¡°Ha! No, but I probably should be with these master level skills,¡± Arco said, smiling greedily. ¡°But I¡¯ve cooked for lots of people, so I sorta got used to it. If I ever got a normal job, maybe it¡¯d be one at a restaurant.¡±


    ¡°What kind of work do you do?¡±


    ¡°Hmm, what kind of work? Odd jobs and that sort of stuff. Nothing steady.¡±


    Max realized what a rude question it was for her to ask. It never affected her, but the economy of District 5 was currently in a recession, and getting work was incredibly difficult. Many people were without jobs, and someone acting as a revolutionary would obviously not have one. This was hard.


    ¡°But anyway, you¡¯ve gotta have more friends than just me in the city,¡± Arco said, changing the subject after realizing the awkward air. ¡°Come on, you gonna tell me that you just decided to take a train into the city without knowing a single person?¡±


    ¡°Well, I know a few people, but not where they live¡­¡±


    ¡°Mind if I ask who? It isn¡¯t likely, but maybe I know em. I am a pretty sociable person, ya know.¡±


    She didn¡¯t actually have anyone she could name. All her friends were in the upper strata, and if he somehow knew who they were, her cover would be blown. The image of her maid flashed in front of Max¡¯s eyes, but she couldn¡¯t remember her friend''s name.


    Actually, naming her could also be bad anyway. If she was still pretending to be Maxine, then it would trace back to her.


    Wait.


    ¡°What time is it?¡±


    The random non sequitur stunned Arco for a second, and he pulled out a watch from his pocket.


    ¡°Ten in the morning.¡±


    Dad was supposed to arrive home at around nine, Max thought. Even if Mom didn¡¯t realize that someone was pretending to be me, there¡¯s no way Dad or any of the other servants wouldn¡¯t in the morning.


    Once that news got to her dad, he would send an alert out to all police with her picture on it. It would be everywhere. After that, her life on the run would be cut short.


    ¡°Something wrong? You¡¯re looking pale.¡±


    What was she supposed to do? Going back home right now would solve absolutely nothing! In fact, it would probably make things worse! They¡¯d up the security on her and not let her out of anyone¡¯s sight. It was only thanks to a lax oversight that Max could run away from home in the first place.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Woah, come on,¡± Arco said. ¡°You¡¯re definitely not. It¡¯s written all over your face. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s troubling you or what¡¯s wrong, but if you need help with something, don¡¯t hesitate to ask. I happen to be a sucker for cuties like yourself and don¡¯t have nothing to do all day.¡±


    It was tough. She really could use some help. Really, the best thing to do would be to leave the city entirely. Then there was no way her parents could find her.


    But that felt too impossible of a step to take. Too final.


    Maybe there was a reason the two of them met. It was fate.


    ¡°I do need help.¡±


    ¡°Well, then don¡¯t worry. Just rely on me! I know I may seem like some kinda scumbag, but if you look deep down, beneath all the scum, there might be a dependable worker in there. What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Blending the lies with the truth, Max only gave a quick snippet.


    ¡°There are people looking for me. They¡¯re after me. I can¡¯t explain why, and I don¡¯t really want to go any deeper than that for personal reasons. But I know they¡¯re trying to catch me, and I don¡¯t want to go back.¡±


    Fortunately, while this seemed like a huge issue for Max, to Arco, it wasn¡¯t even a bit of trouble. People had been hunting after him for years. But he didn¡¯t want to seem flippant.


    ¡°Are they? Damn. That¡¯s serious.¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± Max said. ¡°I¡¯m not exactly sure what to do. Like I said, I don¡¯t really know anyone in the city, so I don¡¯t have anywhere to go. I¡¯ll admit that I¡¯ve never done this before, so I¡¯m really nervous and confused¡­¡±


    For a few minutes, the two sat in thought. Then, Arco broke the silence very casually.


    ¡°Okay, I think I¡¯ve got an idea. First, we need to change your appearance.¡±


    ¡°Change my appearance?¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± he said, the corner of his mouth tilting up. ¡°What¡¯s the shortest you¡¯ve ever cut your hair?¡±


    ***


    It was a scary experience. Proper ladies have always kept their hair long and stylish. Getting it too short was a sign of having a poor stylist, which was embarrassing. But this was for a good reason. Nobody would expect her to have her hair cut this short. It was Arco¡¯s idea, and he knew a good barber who cut it all the way down to her jawline. It was a bob cut, and not the cleanest of trims. Even after washing it, hairs were slightly uneven.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Why are you worrying? Trust me, the worse it looks, the better it is for ya,¡± Arco said after they finished. ¡°Come on. If someone is looking for you, then the first thing they¡¯re going to check for is hair. That¡¯s how it works. I¡¯ve helped scout people before, and that¡¯s just how our minds think.


    ¡°Next, throw on a pair of sunglasses. Perfect. Those¡¯ll cover your eyes, which is one of the most memorable parts of the human body. Add in a scarf that covers your mouth and chin? There¡¯s no way anybody would recognize you. Any wanted posters would be totally off mark.¡±


    ¡°Is that so¡­¡±


    Even if it didn¡¯t feel correct, when Max stared at her reflection in a shop window, she couldn¡¯t help but admit she looked totally different. Before, she bore the appearance of someone noble. Now, she was a common working woman. Having not washed her face or clothes helped accentuate the disguise. As the morning extended on longer, Arco recommended more and more clothes that helped complete the look. From bottom to top, she changed her shoes, skirt, belt, shirt, and coat, then once it was all done, she grabbed a men¡¯s beret and capped herself.


    It was the opposite transformation from any of the romance novels or plays she had seen. In those, the poor heroine is swept off her feet and altered into a beautiful princess. It was a thematic subversion that took her in the opposite direction.


    ¡°In the end, I¡¯m just gonna go out and say it: methinks this is an upgrade to your earlier fashion,¡± Arco said as the two finally left the thrift store they had been looking through. He was wearing a shabby trench coat with a hood he purchased from inside. ¡°Earlier, you looked like some doll dressed up by idiots. Now...you just look like an idiot that dressed themselves.¡±


    ¡°Jeez, thanks a lot,¡± Max said, throwing her backpack on. ¡°But I¡¯ll take it as a compliment.¡±


    ¡°It was meant to be one!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah~.¡±


    It was close to midday, and unlike yesterday, the streets seemed totally different. Puddles on the ground reflected grey blue from the sky, and different colored glass windows reflected dancing lights from the sun and bustle. In the marketplace, people were chatting about anything pointless and trading food for clothes. You couldn¡¯t even tell that these people were poor. In fact, they gave off such a feeling of life that ¡®poor¡¯ seemed like the wrong word to describe them as. This was the experience of organic humanity Max had read about, free from the corruption of the capitalists. How life ought to be lived.


    Arco snapped his fingers in front of her face twice to get her attention.


    ¡°Yo, you zoning out? What did ya¡¯ wanna get for lunch?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea. Anything is fine. Pick your favorite. It has got to be delicious since you¡¯re a good cook and everything.¡±


    ¡°Heh, putting a heavy burden on me? Well, in that case¡­¡±


    He chose a pleasant little bistro right on the corner of a street. People were eating sandwiches, and a group of little kids were running around, shouting at each other with wide smiles on their faces. Behind them was a grumpy looking man, chasing after. Outside of the restaurant was a group of men singing in acapella for donations. Max wanted to donate, but wasn¡¯t confident she could do so. As they sat down after ordering, Arco checked his watch.


    ¡°Hey, Max, I gotta go run to the toilet, so I¡¯ll be back in a second. Make sure nobody takes my food, okay? That happens sometimes.¡±


    It sounded serious, but his tone was light and he was smiling goofily so Max just nodded and gave him a thumbs up. As he left, she turned her attention back to the singing men. This was incredible. It was worth immortalizing, so she pulled her backpack out and rifled through to find her camera. She called to the men before taking the picture, and they all made a pose as their song came to its conclusion, making for an incredible shot.


    Living on the streets was starting to seem not too bad.


    ***


    The men had collected their donations and left before Arco came back from the bathroom. When he did, there was dried blood on his lip. He looked weak and bags had formed under his eyes. Max was sitting outside by a fountain after the bistro waitress asked her to leave. Waiting for half an hour on her own. Overall, it had been two.


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± Arco said, tying his hair back. ¡°I¡¯m...sorry. My bad.¡±


    As much as Max was angry and wanted to snub him, she didn¡¯t have much of a choice. She had nowhere to go. And while she initially thought he had just decided to dump her, his ragged appearance now instead made her worry. He looked like he had just gotten into a fight. His face looked hurt.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± she said. Turning her head away, Max handed him a bag. ¡°Here. Take it.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Your sandwich. I made sure nobody took it.¡±


    ¡°Jesus,¡± Arco said slowly, taking the food. Then he laughed. ¡°You¡¯re not even gonna ask what happened? Why I look like I got my ass kicked to sunday and back?¡±


    ¡°No. You didn¡¯t pry into my history, so I won¡¯t pry into yours. That¡¯s the fair thing to do.¡±


    He sat next to her.


    ¡°Well, thanks. Also, thanks for staying and waiting to give me my lunch. I was actually really looking forward to it.¡±


    ¡°Guh, don¡¯t thank me for anything. I don¡¯t have anywhere else to go, and I didn¡¯t remember where your house was. If I knew, I would¡¯ve just gone there instead. Although I guess I¡¯d just be waiting outside the door, then.¡±


    ¡°Ha. If that ever happens, don¡¯t worry. I keep a spare key under the doormat.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that make it easy for someone to break in?¡±


    ¡°Sure. But what, are they gonna steal my broken tv?¡±


    ¡°Good point.¡±


    Max hopped up to her feet with all the spryness built up sitting down for such a long time. The sky was turning orange, and even a dark bloody red in the distance. Beyond that was purple and finally black. Night was coming, and even if it was a little strange, today was far better than yesterday. Honestly, the past 24 hours had been some of the most unique experiences in her entire life. Even if it all ended in that moment, she couldn¡¯t regret doing it.


    ¡°Time to go back, then?¡±


    ¡°Go back?¡± Arco raised an eyebrow. ¡°Are you kidding? We¡¯d miss some of the best sights in the city. Anyway, I need to treat you for saving this.¡± He shook his sandwich bag.


    ¡°Are you sure? You¡¯re all bloody¡­¡±


    Without thinking, Max touched the streak of blood that ran down Arco¡¯s chin. His eyes widened and she pulled away, realizing how that might have seemed.


    ¡°Ah! Sorry. I didn¡¯t think about it¡­¡±


    But he played it off easily.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, don¡¯t worry,¡± Arco said, putting a hand on her shoulder. When she turned around, he had wiped the blood away. His lip didn¡¯t look hurt at all. ¡°You just shocked me there. But yeah, I¡¯m totally healthy. Healthy as healthy can be. In fact, watch this.¡±


    He did a standing backflip. A few passerbys started clapping.


    ¡°That¡¯s not something you see every day, is it? Come on, let¡¯s go to the bridge!¡±


    Without even letting her try to pretend to object, Arco grabbed Max by the wrist and pulled her down the street.


    ***


    Normally, water is pitch black, tainted with soot that mixes in with the atmosphere and rain. Even though it may be clean, it gave off the appearance of the abyss, even when staring at a pool a meter deep.


    Max had never realized how different it could be when reflecting the sunset. At first, she thought Arco was only taking her to a regular street bridge over the river; while the view would be nice, there wasn¡¯t anything special about it. She had seen it dozens of times. Instead of doing that, however, he took her to the top of a department building where they snuck passed the restricted access signs.


    Just looking down on the city wasn¡¯t unusual either. She¡¯d been up the Eiffel Tower.


    Never had she combined it all together.


    From up above all the different buildings, the way the river and canals all connected together was like a mosaic line painting through the gray. Her mind was recalled to an ancient japanese technique of artistry: kintsugi. Taking a broken piece of ceramic and repairing it with an obvious gold mold, meant to emphasize the beauty in the history of something coming apart then becoming whole again. There was too much to take in.


    A breathtaking sight. Far better than any from before.


    To capture it in an image was an injustice, but Max felt like she had no choice. She pulled her camera from her bag and took a picture. As she pulled her face away from the capture lens, Arco was staring at her.


    ¡°Yo,¡± he started. ¡°Wanna take one together? Both of us, plus the city in the background?¡±


    ¡°Sure!¡±


    There was no tripod or anything to set the camera on, so she just let Arco take it and aim it back towards them. He grabbed her and pulled her close and the flash blinded them.


    ***


    ¡°That¡¯s a nice picture,¡± Arco said, waving it around as the image settled. ¡°And a nice camera. You do a lot of photography or something? Oh, actually, is that pushing too much? You don¡¯t gotta tell me if ya don¡¯t want to.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. Honestly, I¡¯m not a photographer or anything. I just like taking pictures.¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯ll need to show me what you¡¯ve taken. I bet you got some nice ones.¡±


    ¡°Heh, yeah, I think I do,¡± Max said, smiling. She opened her bag to put the camera back, then stopped. Something was wrong.


    Arco quickly picked up on it.


    ¡°You okay?¡±


    Max hadn¡¯t noticed it before. Probably because the stuff in her bag was all mixed up, different things all over the place. But Even when she took her camera out earlier, she hadn¡¯t noticed it missing. That¡¯s because of the very specific position it was in: her camera had its own hard shell box, and under it was where the item should have been.


    Without saying anything to Arco, Max started searching through the bag. She tossed clothes aside without a care. Her notebook too. It was gone. Completely disappeared. Suddenly, the warmth she had just been feeling was sucked out. Now it was only cold and alien.


    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s up? Did you lose something?¡±


    She couldn¡¯t say it with good conscience. It would break any trust between the two of them. If she admitted it, then any chance of continuing this life would be over. And truthfully, that was something Max couldn¡¯t let happen.


    Someone had taken her wallet.


    It contained all of the cash she had brought, along with her ID, banking information, and citizenship. Practically all of the money she had was gone. It was like an entire chunk of Max¡¯s soul had been ripped from her chest.


    Then, as Arco put his hand on her back between her shoulder blades to provide comfort, she realized it didn¡¯t matter.


    Fuck Maxine Vasquez.


    There was no going back, at this point. The life of a snobby prep was now gone forever. And Max didn¡¯t want it back. This was the moment where she decided to completely cast it away. Wash herself of that person, and become someone new. Now, she was just Max. That night, a brand new person was born. A single tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. That was the soul of Maxine Vasquez vanishing. Banished from this body, whoever stole her identity could have it.


    Oh.


    Luise. That was Max¡¯s servant¡¯s name. Funny how she recalled it at this time. Whatever. She could be Maxine Vasquez from now on, since that person no longer existed.


    Hopefully she was doing well.


    Max sent her friend a silent prayer and thanks, though it was long overdue.


    Max laughed, openly and loudly, for the first time in a very long time. It was a bellowing laugh that wasn¡¯t suitable for a woman of her upbringing, but that was exactly why she did it. It was something she had always wanted to do, and it was so ugly somebody could only call it beautiful. She laughed until tears poured out of her eyes, and for some reason, Arco, who had just been watching in concern at first, started laughing himself. They both ended up rolling on the ground like idiots as the sun finally disappeared and night arrived. The moon clambered its way up across the stars and clouds and shone down on their bodies before they stopped laughing.


    Their voices were hoarse and their bodies tired, but the two sat up to watch the light from the streetlights and cars below. Unlike anything before, this wasn¡¯t anything fantastic. But it was real. Honestly, so long as you¡¯re living, everything is beautiful. Everything is worth looking at. In this moment, for the first time in her life, Max felt alive.


    ¡°What were you planning for dinner?¡±


    ***


    Classic french cuisine was a good enough choice. It didn¡¯t matter. This would be the first time Max got to eat food as a real human being. No matter what she ate, even if it was dry stale bread, it would be incredible. Because it was food. Because she could eat it, free to be herself, it would be the most delicious thing she¡¯d ever tasted.


    Pasta.


    Soup.


    Salad.


    It was all incredible. In her mind, Max knew she was only riding a high. Eventually, she would settle back down and become normal again. Logically, there was an absolute guarantee of this happening.


    That was all the more reason to celebrate.


    She was drinking wine with Arco, who had been shocked all night. Instead of being the one to lead Max around, it was the other way around. A complete role-reversal. Not that he didn¡¯t mind it. She held her glass up for celebration of a two-person toast and he matched her.


    ¡°Cheers to becoming real!¡±


    ¡°Honestly I got no idea what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Arco said. ¡°But I¡¯ll say cheers to that.¡±


    The moment their glasses touched a car smashed halfway through the side of the restaurant they had been eating and continued on to slam directly into a stone wall on the other side of the street.

 Chapter 6: Pictures of Home

    --That morning, Friday, Lenore¡¯s Story, 14 hours before the accident--


    His train was earlier than scheduled, which suited Lenore Vasquez perfectly fine. Taking an overnight voyage was surprisingly difficult, since even the beds in first class were lacking. And beyond that, he had difficulty sleeping without his wife by his side. For some reason, she helped calm him down and her lullabies cleared his mind. Spending a lot of time away from home was difficult, and it happened often because of his job. Coming back home was always his favorite part. Knowing he would be home soon also kept him awake.


    His daughter was going to be married in the future. It was painful to let her go, but it was for the ultimate good. She needed to leave the next, and Lenore was a good friend of her fiance¡¯s father, Reginald, and they were a good family.


    Even if she said she didn¡¯t want to, Lenore knew it would be the best for her. Hopefully Jeanne convinced her of that during their trip to the theatre.


    After leaving the train, a car was already waiting to take Lenore home. It was a short drive, held up only a little by protestors on the street. Just wait a little longer, Lenore thought. I¡¯m trying to help.


    ***


    The Vasquez Family mansion is a magnificent building.


    Four stories tall, it has an elongated estate ground surrounding it with a pond and two fields. There¡¯s even a horse stable, though it was currently unoccupied. The building was made from red bricks and colored constantly, and the staff were constantly cleaning away the dirt that accumulated on the gargoyle outcroppings that hung from nearly every wall.


    His servant dropped him off at the front, promising to secure the rest of the luggage. Lenore thanked the man and went inside.


    Breakfast was always prepared for everyone in the family, including Maxine and Maxwell, though usually either of his children ate in their rooms. They were at a point in their lives where rebelling against your parents was normal. Even though Lenore did the same thing at that age, his own kids doing it felt strange. Raising children was more difficult than any of the diplomacy his job normally entailed.


    Already sitting at the table, waiting for him, was Jeanne. She was reading a novel, and as he approached for a hug, she gave him a squinty look.


    ¡°I thought you were supposed to be back last night. What happened to dinner?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You told me we were returning early,¡± Jeanne said, sounding annoyed. ¡°I was up all night preparing but you never showed up. Did something happen?¡±


    Strange. Perhaps she got the times mixed up? He did return early, and he made sure to call the head butler to let him know...but that was this morning. There should be no reason for her to think otherwise unless she misunderstood something. Well, in times like this, it¡¯s always better to just apologize. Getting your wife mad was never a good idea, even if she was wrong.


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± Lenore said. He bowed his head slightly. ¡°I thought I might, but the meeting ended up being longer than I expected it to be.¡± Of course, this was a lie. The meetings were all finished and all he did was take an overnight train. ¡°Let me make up for it. We can go out tonight, together. Actually, perhaps we should go as a family? Did last night go well with Maxine at the play?¡±


    ¡°It did! She was really happy to see it. Honestly, I was surprised she took it so poorly in the first place, but after talking it out, she came around. And going out tonight as a family would be lovely! I feel like I haven¡¯t seen Maxwell in years...how sad¡­¡±


    ¡°Fantastic,¡± Lenore said. He turned to the man who was assisting with breakfast. ¡°Then. Mr. Brown. Would you be so kind as to let my children know about this? So that they may prepare? I believe we should do it perhaps at seven?¡±


    ¡°Seven sounds perfect dear.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled. Mr. Brown, see to it that things are ready. If you have any recommendations, please let me know.¡±


    Mr. Benjamin Brown was one of the longest serving workers for the Vasquez estate. His loyalty knew no bounds, and his dedication brought him to the spot of head butler. Of course, since he had been working so long, the toll was obvious on his body. Weak limbs, and white hair with many wrinkles. When he got his orders, he simply nodded slowly, walking away as his two masters casually ate their breakfast.


    But things were not so simple.


    Last night, two of their staff members had been mugged and had their clothes stolen. They were left in the dumps.


    Those were the two who were tasked with making sure Mrs. Vasquez and her daughter returned safely. The servants had no knowledge or recollection of what happened, and their car was stolen, though it made its way back to the mansion somehow. At the same time, Mr. Brown was acutely aware that Maxine Vasquez had not returned the night prior, even though almost everyone thought she had. And Maxine¡¯s personal servant, Luise, was missing as well.


    Naturally, there could be any number of reasons for this to happen.


    The final fact only he knew was what caused problems.


    Early that morning, before the sun had even risen, there was a package sitting in the Vasquez mailbox. Mr. Brown had the authority given to him by the master to open and discern mail, so he did so without thinking. Inside of it was something so horrific the head butler almost fainted on spot.


    A bloody ear, wrapped up in hair. Below it was a bloodstained letter and two photographs.


    This was a ransom note.


    It specifically mentioned that letting the police know would mean the death of both children. The sum wasn¡¯t entirely unreasonable, knowing the Vasquez fortune, but Mr. Brown wasn¡¯t able to act. He couldn¡¯t make these types of decisions. For those reasons, he snuck into Lenore¡¯s study and hid the package, waiting to show it when his master returned. Brown didn¡¯t want to make anyone else afraid, and he suspected Lenore was capable of taking this well, so it was his only option.


    He waited by the door for an hour before Lenore decided to go check on his study. Mr. Brown nodded to greet his boss.


    ¡°Mr. Vasquez, before you do anything, there¡¯s something I need to tell you¡­¡±


    ***


    gOoD mOrNiNg~


    Good Morning, Vasquez family. As you may suspect from the two photographs attached, both of your children have been abducted. Do not worry yourselves. Other than the two pieces of them sent as proof, your children are unharmed.


    That may change according to your actions.


    If you know even a single thing about kidnappings, then you already understand how this will go. Do not contact the police or your children¡¯s heads will float down the Seine and their bodies will hang from the rafters of a whorehouse. If you wish to have your children returned to you, then what you will need to do is quite simple. Firstly, collect 250,000 francs per child you want returned. After that, hold onto them. Do not call the police, and send all of your servants on a short vacation. We will be sending mail with further instructions at dusk and dawn.


    Sincerely,


    KiDnApPeRs~


    ***


    The ransom note was created by cutting apart newspapers and stitching the words and letters together, then covered in glue and blood. Some parts were written, and a picture of the Vasquez house from the local newspaper was plastered on the back.


    This was horrific. How could it be happening?


    Lenore read the letter dozens of times, as if something different would happen. But nothing changed. Much time went before anyone said anything, the only sound coming from an old grandfather clock ticking down time.


    Finally, after slowing his brain into a capable state, Lenore spoke.


    ¡°When did this arrive?¡±


    ¡°This morning,¡± Mr. Brown replied. ¡°In the regular mail. As I said before, yourself and I are the only ones who know of this.¡±


    ¡°How the hell could this happen? When did they grab my babies?¡±


    Before Mr. Brown could answer, Lenore reasoned it out.


    ¡°Jeanne said someone told her we were going to have dinner,¡± Lenore said, covering his face with both hands. ¡°Of course, she just believed it was a servant. With her poor eyesight, I doubt she could actually tell who it was. By any chance, did you hear anything about this?¡±


    ¡°The two servants who went with the ladies last night were attacked. I didn¡¯t learn about their absence until late last night, but word had already arrived that Mrs. Vasquez had returned home.¡±


    ¡°And Maxine?¡±


    Mr. Brown let out a regretful sigh.


    ¡°At the time, I simply believed she had returned as well, but when I checked this morning, she was gone. A fatal error in communication. I will resign immediately, if you so choose. However, if there is anything I can do to remedy my failure, I wish to do it. After your children have been returned safe and sound, I will relinquish my salary and leave Paris forever.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Lenore said. ¡°No, don¡¯t. There isn¡¯t a need for that. This isn¡¯t your fault. If anything, blame lies on myself for not assigning bodyguards.¡±


    Silence.


    Lenore was looking at the photos of his two children, dark bags under his eyes. Even though he hardly slept at all on the train ride back, there was no way he could sleep now. There¡¯d be nothing but nightmares.


    ¡°There¡¯s something strange here,¡± Lenore said, looking between photos. It bothered him, but he couldn¡¯t tell what was wrong. ¡°Look, Ben, did you look at these? Does something look off? Or can you tell anything special?¡±


    It was difficult for Mr. Brown to look at the two photographs, as it weighed on his heart.


    But he saw it. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The reason he saw it was because his despair was that of a servant and not a parent. It was something you could only notice from looking at someone from below, rather than looking at them from above. A single article that made absolutely no sense being in this picture. An impossibility. It was from Maxine¡¯s photo. Not in Maxwell¡¯s. Was it a mistake on the kidnapper¡¯s end? Incomprehensible¡­


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Mr. Brown said. He set the photograph down and pointed to Maxine¡¯s feet. ¡°Her shoes. Are these really the shoes your daughter would wear to a play?¡±


    In this epoch, men and women¡¯s fashion were quite distinct, especially in District 5. Women, especially ones with high social standing, held very strictly to the trends. While Lenore Vasquez was too slow in sociability to understand this, but Mr. Brown, who was often brought along with either mistress to assist with shopping, had clear knowledge of it. In the photo, Maxine was wearing close-toed shoes, typically the type you would wear for athletic or work related activity. They were durable and comfy, but obviously plain. Brown and dull. They were a pair of shoes that would get you laughed at. They were shoes that Maxine would never in a million years wear to a social event.


    ¡°But, what does that mean? The kidnappers wouldn¡¯t just have extra shoes on hand¡­¡±


    While Lenore could only ponder, Mr. Brown had one other piece of information. A critical fact that could explain the shoes.


    ¡°Mr. Vasquez...I think there is a possibility that this isn¡¯t your daughter,¡± Mr. Brown said slowly. ¡°Last night, your daughter¡¯s personal servant, Luise Tower, didn¡¯t come in to work. At first, I merely assumed it was because she was told not to come in by Maxine. Then, when she didn¡¯t come in this morning, my mind started to think she was integral in pulling off this crime, and a member of the kidnappers. But now, as I gaze more and more upon this picture, I think I¡¯ve come to realize that the kidnappers have made a fatal mistake! For some reason, instead of Maxine, they have abducted her servant, and believe she is the hostage that you would pay large sums of money for.¡±


    While Mr. Brown talked, Lenore realized it as well. How could he have been so blind? He didn¡¯t want to look at the pictures of his crumpled children, and without meaning to, he hadn¡¯t even paid attention to who they were. But Mr. Brown was completely right. This wasn¡¯t his daughter. That was what threw him off before. Was it his son?


    No, life couldn¡¯t be so fortunate. That was without a doubt Maxwell Vasquez. Those angry defiant eyes were ones Lenore knew by heart. But the girl wasn¡¯t Maxine.


    ¡°How could the kidnappers make such a mistake?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea,¡± Lenore said. This knowledge only made him less worried for a split second. ¡°But this could make things worse. If the kidnappers don¡¯t have my daughter, then where is she?¡±


    The butler had no answer. He could only frown.


    The two were at a roadblock. Was the only option to wait?


    ***


    No, it wasn¡¯t.


    There was a person Mr. Brown knew through an old drinking buddy that dealt with this type of stuff. A private detective who didn¡¯t work for the police, but was more reliable than anyone else. Or so they say. While Mr. Vasquez sat alone in his study to think, Mr. Brown was searching through his book of business cards. It had to be there somewhere. He wasn¡¯t a religious man, but in this moment, the secular butler prayed. This was his family, even if he wasn¡¯t technically a part of it. He would die for them in a moment, and if he could have this one thing, he¡¯d do anything.


    Lance Gordon. The Herculean Odysseus.


    The yellow card bore a ridiculous symbol on it: a twelve-legged octopus with a diamond in the center. Institute backed. This was the man.


    There was no guarantee they could figure out what was happening, but this was the best shot Brown thought they had.


    ***


    --An hour later--


    Lenore was sitting at his desk with Mr. Brown standing by his side. Across from them was a very strange man. His accent was strange, but Lenore knew it from travelling. It was an american accent. Those had pretty much gone extinct, so it was almost a relic in itself.


    That wasn¡¯t the only peculiar thing about the man named Lance Gordon.


    He was handsome, the two men were forced to admit. Ridiculously good looking. His face was almost perfectly sculpted, and he knew how to style himself. He was also over two meters tall and covered in muscles without seeming like a hulking monster. His body was like a greek sculpture, which was possibly where he got his bizarre name from. Herculean Odysseus. When Lenore first saw the title, he thought it sounded like what a little kid who only learned about greek mythology would think of.


    Then, when the legendary man presented himself, they only became more confused.


    ¡°Howdy y¡¯all,¡± Lance said, tipping his wide brimmed hat. ¡°I hear y¡¯all got some work for me? Before you say what it is, just know that I reserve the right to refuse any job at any point if I believe it is morally irredeemable, even if I¡¯ve already collected some of the money. But if what I¡¯m being asked to do is for the great good of mankind, then I¡¯m all ear.¡±


    Lenore took in a deep breath, then pushed over a box containing everything they got from the kidnappers.


    ¡°My house received this earlier today,¡± he started. ¡°From some unknown group. According to what we¡¯ve already looked into, last night, when my wife and daughter were out at the local theatre, this gang of criminals approached and attacked the servants who were accompanying my family. The criminals disguised themselves as my staff and brought my wife and daughter away in seperate cars, dropping my wife off at home and telling her that I was going to be taking her out to a dinner and that she should prepare for it. Of course, I was not. At the time, I was in Brussels for business. Unfortunately, my wife is somewhat ditzy, so she didn¡¯t realize that the men who brought her back were not staff members. Her eyes are bad. At the same time, my son went missing, as he usually spends his evenings out on the town.


    ¡°As you can see, the letter forbids contact with the police, but nothing against meeting with a detective. I will be able to get all the money they request for both of my children to be returned, but that¡¯s where the biggest issue arises. After careful inspection from myself and my most trusted servant, Benjamin, we realized that the person in the photo for my daughter is not actually my daughter. Instead, it appears like it is her servant. As you may realize, that brings many more problems.


    ¡°For one: if that isn¡¯t my daughter, then where is she? The girl in the picture, Luise, is wearing what my daughter was last night before she went to the theatre, so I can at least surmise that they traded clothes sometime either before the kidnapping. Does that mean she wasn¡¯t kidnapped and the kidnappers have no idea who they have captive? Or could it be that they have her somewhere but are only showing me the servant so they can try to extort me more...along the lines of: ¡®Oh, you paid for this girl Luise, rather than your actual daughter. For her, you can send another 250,000 franc¡¯.


    ¡°I...think with pretty much absolute certainty that we will be paying the ransom for both. Even if Luise is not my daughter, she shouldn¡¯t be held and killed for such a sum. I won¡¯t let that weigh on my conscience. What I¡¯m asking for from you is what to do after that. How do I make sure this ransom deal goes through without consequence, and how do I get all of my family and servant back home without anyone getting hurt? That should explain most of it...is this something you could help me with?¡±


    Lance casually glanced through the evidence. From what he could tell, it was pretty amateur work. He¡¯d dealt with far more sophisticated criminals. Of course, that just meant these guys were more dangerous. The best crimes don¡¯t give you a good reason to chase after them. With this, that subtle touch was missing. These kidnappers cut off a young man¡¯s ear.


    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll help y¡¯all,¡± Lance said, tossing the box back onto Lenore¡¯s desk. The detective was smiling from ear to ear, showing a line of pearly white teeth. ¡°To tell you the truth, hearing your story, I was gonna charge you the kidnapping fee for my services if you didn¡¯t say you¡¯d pay for the servant girl as well. But if you¡¯re gonna do that? Hell. I¡¯ll do this for free. Being good friends with such an influential senator means my business should get quite a boon, which is needed with the current economy, ya digg?¡±


    Lance held up a finger.


    ¡°Though I¡¯m gonna tell you something that might deflate you a bit. Just so you¡¯re 100% clear on the situation. When you brought up possibilities for your daughter, there was one option you missed: these criminals accidentally killed her, and now need to stage her servant like your daughter. Just a possibility.


    ¡°And, there is also a chance that there are people within your employ who are in on the entire thing. I mean, you said your wife has bad eyes, no? I can¡¯t imagine that info is easy to come by on the streets. At least not with the confidence to send two men directly to her face and pretend to be servants. Also, they were able to get it into your mailbox early in the morning; that means before any mail was delivered. Someone dropped it off while the sun was still down, and they¡¯d need to walk around your estate to do so. Yet they weren¡¯t caught? Suspicious. But that¡¯s only something to consider. For the time being, the only thing we need to do is wait for the second letter. Don¡¯t let anyone know I¡¯m here. We can figure out a plan later.¡±


    ***


    VASQUEZ FAMILY


    I HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER. IF YOU DO NOT COMPLY WITH MY DEMANDS, SHE WILL DIE. IF YOU NEED MORE PROOF OR CONTACT THE POLICE, SHE WILL DIE. TONIGHT, AT 11:00 PM EXACTLY, DROP A BAG WITH 200,000 FRANCS INTO THE DUMPSTER BY XXX AND XXX STREET. IT WILL HAVE A YELLOW STICKER ON IT.


    SIR NIGHT


    ***


    --A little after midday--


    A second package arrived, not according to the kidnappers schedule. What¡¯s more, while this package was obviously related, it was completely different. Instead of a chopped up newspaper, this was done by a typewriter. But it came with the similar articles of proof. A bundle of dark hair and a photograph, though this picture was of Maxine lying on a dirty couch asleep with a rifle pointed at her head.


    ¡°Well,¡± Lance said. ¡°I suppose we don¡¯t exactly need to worry about what happened with your daughter.¡± He paused, rethinking what he said. ¡°Assuming this is your daughter.¡±


    ¡°It is...but I don¡¯t understand. This isn¡¯t from the same people, right?¡±


    Even though he was the expert in this situation, Lance had absolutely no idea. This was totally unprecedented and illogical. But that wouldn¡¯t do his clients any good, so he simply laughed and shook his head in confidence.


    ¡°Hah, don¡¯t make such an assumption like that without knowing all the facts. That¡¯s what I¡¯ve always done,¡± Lance said. ¡°While it certainly does seem like someone else is doing it, this could be a clever ploy. Think about it: if you pay the first kidnappers, then pay the second one, you¡¯ll be paying a lot of money. Of course, there¡¯s no way we could know for sure, but coming to an early conclusion would be a bad idea. We¡¯ll wait to see if another letter comes at dusk.¡±


    ¡°How did it come in, Ben?¡±


    The head butler shook his head.


    ¡°Nobody noticed it. Like in the morning, this one just showed up in the mailbox. Unlike in the morning, however, it should have been under surveillance, so I¡¯m not exactly sure how it happened. The servant who grabbed it said one second there was nothing, then when she looked back, the package was inside and marked confidential.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re sure she ain¡¯t untrustworthy?¡± Lance said, chewing on ice. His use of a double negative bothered Mr. Brown.


    ¡°I¡¯m quite sure. Miss Cary has been working with us for years.¡±


    Lance shrugged.


    ¡°Suit yourself.¡±


    ***


    As the three men waited together, the day crawled forward without any news. Fatigue finally overcame Lenore and he passed out on the table. Mr. Brown pulled out a blanket and laid it over his master. Otherwise, without much to speak about, the butler and the detective eventually decided to play cards. Basic poker.


    It didn¡¯t last long before Mr. Brown realized he was outclassed and decided to give up.


    Lenore made wire requests to the bank for the massive amount of funds to be delivered to his house, and they arrived late afternoon. He was still sleeping at the time, so Mr. Brown woke him up so he could give his signature and seal to the delivery men. It came in three briefcases, but the money wasn¡¯t split exactly as he ordered, so they spent the rest of their time sorting the money into the correct cases. They numbered each one and marked them so when the moment came, they could deliver them without worry of making any mistakes.


    Finally, as the sun started to disappear on the horizon line, Mr. Brown made one of his regular trips to the mailbox and came back with a package.


    ***


    gOoD eVeNiNg~


    Good Evening, Vasquez family. It has come to our attention that while you have obeyed our orders and kept the police out of the equation, that did not prevent you from asking for help anyway. Regardless, that does not matter to us. Your two assistants will be of help.


    Tonight, at 10:00 PM, you will bring the cash to the central square at XXX and XXX plaza. To make sure we are fully aware of your location, all three of you must be at the central square. When the clock strikes 10, Lenore Vasquez must remain at his location while the two helpers each go East and West down the streets until they are approached by men in masks. At that point, hand over the money when they ask for it. If there are any disturbances, or if anything happens, both children will die.


    Sincerely,


    KiDnApPeRs~


    ***


    --10 PM--


    Was this the right thing to do? It was so absurdly risky.


    Lenore couldn¡¯t help but sweat. Because it was a cold night out, his chills were only worse, and he felt like a fever was overtaking him. His vision was becoming blurry, and even though there were people walking through the streets chatting, he could hardly hear them. Mr. Brown drove the three of them to a parking lot near the center square earlier, and now that the drop off time was getting closer, the three men were completely silent. The normal cockiness Lance had demonstrated all night was gone, and Mr. Brown was shaking in anticipation. After this was over, Lenore wouldn¡¯t be able to let the man leave. He was an integral part of the Vasquez family, and had more than proven his worth. A reward was fitting.


    It had come up in their talks. The possibility that this was all just some complicated attempt at a public assassination. That whoever these kidnappers were would end Lenore¡¯s life, along with the children. His wife was at home, protected only by servants, so she was a sitting duck as well. But there was at least some security against that.


    Time seemed impossibly slow as the clouds moved, finally obscuring the moon entirely. It dropped the light by a measurable amount, and then the clock tolled 10.


    ¡°Please,¡± Lenore whispered to his companions. ¡°Please let this work. God help us.¡±


    Then they each started in a separate direction, holding briefcases full of cash.


    The bell hadn¡¯t even stopped ringing when a car revved it¡¯s engine and smashed through a nearby restaurant, spinning in a rabid motion before crashing into a wall across the street.

 Chapter 7: Bodysnatchers

    --That morning, Friday, the Kidnapped Story, 18 hours before the accident--


    Maxwell woke up with a horrific pain in his head. He was laying down on concrete, and when he tried to get up, he found it difficult. Both his hands and feet were tied together, and there was a gag shoved into his mouth, covered by plastic wrap. It made him feel like a pathetic caterpillar. Even when he tried to pull his head off the hard ground, it was hard. In a different way, though. Enough pulling made him realize why. His head was stuck to the ground by some kind of itchy goop.


    Recollections of the night prior started to flood into his mind as his awareness spread.


    Ariaxs.


    The ritual that killed all of his friends.


    Eating one of the cultists who followed him without hesitation.


    The huge mustached gangster who busted through the door and threatened to kill him.


    Two of his followers, covered in blood, abandoning him as they ran for their lives as they were being shot.


    Falling and blacking out.


    Ariaxs.


    Hah. Perhaps this was some kind of dream? A nightmare, after he blacked out from drinking too much. That was probably it.


    ¡­


    No, there was no fooling himself. Max was too smart for that. Sitting across the room was another mustached man, though this one was wearing sunglasses and a hat that obscured his face. When the man noticed Max was awake, he hopped up and left the room by a metal door.


    The rest of the room was some kind of concrete, with basic plain ceiling tiles. While he had no idea where he was, Max guessed that it must have been an office building or something. Of course, that didn¡¯t make much sense.


    Returning into the room was the guard, along with the massive gangster who initially attacked Max. It was too difficult to struggle, so he just kept still.


    The man splashed a bucket of water on Max¡¯s face.


    ¡°Kid, you awake?¡± He asked, though it should be obvious Max was and couldn¡¯t answer. ¡°If you are, wiggle your body. Just making sure that you didn¡¯t go retarded or get brain damage yesterday from when I knocked you out.¡±


    ¡®Knocked me out¡¯.


    Yeah right. Max remembered falling, and he was well aware that this guy had slipped. Max getting hurt was totally unintentional. But he wiggled his body around anyway, since he wasn¡¯t sure what would happen if he didn¡¯t. They wanted him for some reason, though he couldn¡¯t figure out why. They had asked who he was...was it about his family? A terrorist attack?


    ¡°Good, seems like you¡¯re not retarded,¡± the man said. He grabbed a chair and sat in it. To his ally, he said: ¡°Yo! Go grab the kid and put him on a chair. We gotta get a good photo. And I want to make sure this little shit knows what¡¯s going on.¡±


    ¡°Aye, boss.¡±


    The other man in the room walked behind Max and grabbed his body, trying to pull him up. But Max¡¯s head was still stuck to the ground, and as he was pulled, his face started to hurt. There was a horrific squelching sound as his head slowly separated from the floor, and suddenly, the dull pain in his head became far worse than before. Max screamed into his gag as he was forced into a large comfort chair.


    The gangster in front of him held up a mirror as he started to talk.


    ¡°Your head hurt? Well, don¡¯t worry about it. You¡¯ll live. I just cut your ear off.¡±


    That was what Max saw in the mirror. Half of the side of his face and head was red and black with sticky blood that scabbed over, and his hair was plastered in different directions. But it was quite clear that he was missing an ear. The flesh had been sawed off and all that remained was a discolored hole.


    ¡°Other than that, if we don¡¯t need to hurt you, then we won¡¯t.¡±


    A third man had walked into the room. He had the same mustache the rest of the men had, but what set him apart was the air of superiority and the strange zig-zagging scar across his face. Max had met people like this before; ones who knew they were important and acted like it. The way this man held himself was like one of power.


    ¡°You may be confused as to what you¡¯re doing here,¡± the scarred man said. ¡°Well, don¡¯t be too worried. Most likely, you will make it out of this alive. If you haven¡¯t guessed, we¡¯re holding you and your sister captive, and so long as everything goes well, this nightmare of yours will end sooner than it began. So long as your family pays for your life, everyone will be happy. Now, smile and say cheese.¡±


    ***


    After taking his picture, the men all left the room. It was empty and dark; the men were using a lantern for illumination rather than electric lights, so there was no reason for them to keep it inside. There must have been holes in the roof, however, as light began finding its way into the room to grant Max sight as time moved forward.


    This situation was pretty bad. Would his father really pay a ransom?


    The answer was probably yes. It was the ¡®probably¡¯ part that worried Max. How much were these men going to ask for? Were they telling the truth? Could they be trying to get money from his father, but then kill Max afterwards?


    I mean, they showed their faces¡­


    Was that what a kidnapper would do if they were just going to let me go? Especially with such obvious facial features¡­


    Max could very clearly picture the scarred man¡¯s face. Even just saying the combination of a scar and a mustache would be enough to identify him. The more he thought about it, the more Max could only imagine his death at their hands.


    Fuck that!


    How horribly cruel would it be to have just bound your soul to hell for eternal torment only to die the very next day?


    Max wasn¡¯t going to let that happen. He recalled what Oriaxs had said.


    ¡®You can do whatever you want with anyone¡¯s body.¡¯


    Was this true?


    If it were, then Max wasn¡¯t as helpless as he thought. Of course, there was no proof. Why would a cruel devil tell the truth? Even though he should be full of doubt, there was also a notion that it was true. Max had done research into daemons through the esoteric books his cult members had gathered, and what Oriaxs gave them was not something unlike what the texts said. Dominion over flesh, blood, and bone. While the Church kept all info about devils and pacts hidden from the common public, rumors spread about the kinds of blessings that could be granted through selling your soul


    I need living flesh digesting inside me, Max thought. But how much?


    Well, there was an easy way to test it out.


    After moving the gag enough to chew properly, Max bit into the inside of his mouth and despite the agonizing pain, swallowed the chunks of flesh from his own body.


    ***


    --In another room, earlier--


    A bucket of water splashed on Luise¡¯s face and woke her up. It was freezing cold and immediately she tried to reactively strike out, however, her hands and feet were bound. Instead of getting anything done, all she accomplished was shouting into a gag and bouncing around on a chair. Hands appeared from somewhere she couldn¡¯t see to restrain her, and as it became obvious she couldn¡¯t do anything, she stopped moving. The fire in her heart had not died, but no matter what was going on, pretending to be calm was the best thing to do.


    Her vision started focusing.


    Sitting in front of her was a mustached man with a strange question mark-like scar across his face, staring at her with disdain.


    ¡°Good morning Maxine,¡± the man said. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you slept well. I¡¯m going to tell you the same thing I told your brother. You don¡¯t need to worry about us hurting or killing you; if everything goes well, you¡¯ll be able to get out of here completely unscathed. Of course, that depends on your parents. As you might be able to guess, we are currently holding you hostage, and are asking for a healthy sum to let you and your brother leave. So please, don¡¯t kill yourself. Oh, and I do apologize for this.¡±


    After finishing, the man pulled out a small mirror to show Luise a reflection of herself.


    Her hair had been cut incredibly short. The way it fell was now barely to her chin, a pixie bob-cut that children or edgy radicals would wear. Most women would be horrified to have their hair sliced away like that; it was their pride.


    But Luise literally could not care at all. The only reason she never got her hair cut in the first place was because she didn¡¯t trust beauticians. She blinked and furrowed her eyebrows.


    Wait a minute.


    After thinking for a second, Luise realized that these kidnappers had mistaken her for Maxine. Did they cut her hair because Maxine loved her own more than anything else? Actually, if she wasn¡¯t currently being held in captivity, this type of situation was kind of hilarious. These dudes were total fuck ups and Luise immediately lost respect for them as criminals. She smiled underneath the gag and almost started laughing.


    ***


    To Nick, it looked like Maxine was about to start crying, which gave him satisfaction. He set the mirror down and pulled out the camera he had brought with him.


    ¡°Now, we¡¯ll leave you alone for a bit, but first, say cheese.¡±


    After taking her picture, the men left the room. It was the overseer¡¯s booth at the top of the abandoned warehouse they were currently staying in. The photo finished developing as he got down the stairs and tossed it into the table where everything was set up at. Bruno and Dominic were eating breakfast in silence, while a few other members of the gang were watching television.


    The pieces were all collected, and it was time to let them fall.


    After collecting everything needed to send the first ransom letter, Nick stood before his men to give instructions.


    ¡°Listen here you dumbfucks,¡± he started. That was the usual greeting all his men liked to hear. ¡°This is serious. Amateur hour is over, and once we finish this job, we¡¯ll be the fucking kings of these streets. Nobody will be able to mess with us, and we¡¯ll have the respect of those lowlives. We will become a force stronger than the Cosa Nostra, and this is where we¡¯ll do it!


    ¡°Which means everyone needs to be at full fucking attention. Everyone needs to be awake, because even a single fuck up could ruin all of this. Right now, we need to be at 100%! Now, right here I have the ransom note. Rico, you know where the Vasquez mansion is, correct? Then you¡¯re the one who¡¯ll bring it there. Get on that right now, do it before anyone wakes up and make sure you¡¯re not seen. After that, watch the house. Make sure they see it, then make sure the police don¡¯t get called. If anything suspicious happens, you let me know as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°Got it, boss,¡± Rico said, grabbing the envelope. Once Nick gave him the go-ahead, Rico left.


    ¡°For the rest of you,¡± Nick continued. ¡°We need this place completely secured. Mick, you go guard the brother, and Lyle, you go guard the sister. But make sure you don¡¯t hurt them or scare them. We don¡¯t want them accidentally dying, but we still want them scared. Your shift will be replaced at lunch. For the rest of you, guard the building. Keep on making sure that nobody even comes close. Got it?¡±


    ***


    After the men dispersed, Dominic took a seat next to his older brother. For some reason, this entire thing seemed ominous, and Dominic just couldn¡¯t shake the feeling it was going to crumble down all around them eventually. He did not reveal these worries, obviously.


    But he did have some questions.


    ¡°Yo, big bro, why did you show those kids your face? Won¡¯t they be able to identify you later on?¡±


    ¡°Ha! You don¡¯t know why?¡±


    Dominic shook his head. Unlike Nick, he wasn¡¯t very smart, and unlike Bruno, he wasn¡¯t very strong. But if he could ask stupid questions that helped his brothers out, then he could at least be slightly useful.


    ¡°Come on, take a guess. Just anything, shoot at random.¡±


    Dominic felt embarrassed, but he did as he was asked.


    ¡°Are you going to kill them?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± That actually caught Nick off guard for a second. He quickly regained his composure. ¡°No, idiot. Of course not. Well, that is to say, if we get the money, I won¡¯t be killing either of them. If the money comes through, then we need to uphold our end of the transaction. A group of criminals need to have codes and morals if they want to become something to hold with pride. And that¡¯s exactly what we are going to become; for that reason, I must show my face boldly to those kids.¡±


    ¡°But why? Won¡¯t they remember you?¡±


    ¡°Of course they will,¡± Nick said, rubbing at his scar. ¡°There¡¯s no way they could forget this look. Likely when they return home, the police will ask what happened, or their father will try to go to a hunter of some kind. And what will they say? ¡®He was a man with a large mustache and long scar.¡¯ My face will be on wanted posters, and as word circulates, my visage will become known. And if I¡¯m ever taken to court, there won¡¯t be any proof other than the kid¡¯s testimonies. That¡¯s not enough, and with a senator so unwilling to display a backbone on crime, won¡¯t be friends with the prosecutors. There¡¯s no way I get a conviction.


    ¡°And during the entire time, we reap the renown. It grows and grows as the underbelly of this city learns our name, and the more Vasquez tries to push for our heads, the larger we grow. And on the other hand, if they just decide to let it lie, then isn¡¯t that even better? The Gordoli Family was strong enough to kidnap a senator¡¯s family and extort money from them without even being punished? There is no possible solution where this goes poorly for us, you see.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Dominic said, though it was a lie. He really didn¡¯t understand.


    ***


    There weren''t any good natural vantage points of the Vasquez mansion that were legally accessible, so Rico had to get creative. Days ago, he planned a perfect sniping position, then mapped out how to get there. After dropping off the package, he took to the nearest building and clambered up the side of it. There wasn¡¯t any rooftop access and people obviously weren¡¯t supposed to be on top of it, but that didn¡¯t bother him.


    He carried with him a long guitar case, and a brown paper bag with his lunch in it. The sun hadn¡¯t even risen by the time he was in location, so he opened the guitar case and rifled through it until he found his alarm clock. He set it to go off in an hour, then fell asleep.


    An hour later, it rang.


    The birds on top of the roof around him scattered as he hit the off switch. The sound of city bustle was loud enough to muffle the ringing, but there wasn¡¯t any point in throwing caution to the wind. Unlike the rest of the Gordoli Family, Rico had served time as a soldier. Because of that, his mind was acutely aware of his surroundings, and his skills were pushed to their extremes. This was a job to him, but it was a job he could do without any difficulty.


    In under a minute he had his sniper rifle connected and through the scope could survey the entire front of the house.


    Eventually, a tall and thin old man came out and found the package. Then he returned inside. Rico checked the staff list they had stolen; this was most likely Benjamin Brown, the head butler of the estate. Nick expected this to be the man who found the ransom note first, which was what they expected.


    Some time later, the remainder of staff began to go about their business. Nothing too important to note.


    ***


    When Luise was finally confident enough time had gone by without someone checking on her, she decided to escape. It was actually pretty fortunate that she was captured rather than Maxine, since her mistress would probably have panicked and had a stroke. Instead, Luise was a child of the streets and knew her way around being held captive.


    In a single motion, Luise dislocated her thumb. With her hand now far thinner than it had been before, she slipped it out of the rope without much of a struggle. Then, she popped it back in and untied the rest of the ropes. She took off the gag and took in a big breath of fresh air. Ah. That was pleasant.


    Staying on her tiptoes, Luise walked to the door and pressed her ear against it. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    As she suspected, there was someone on the other side, watching tv. He¡¯d come in once before, checking on her, but that had been at least an hour ago. She could hear the sounds of a rugby match being played, and it sounded quite intense. That meant there was at least some time before he would check on her.


    The room was quite sparse. The floor was carpet and the walls were plastered, but much of it was scraped away to reveal concrete foundations underneath. There was also a single window to the left wall of the door, but it was completely covered up and Luise didn¡¯t want to uncover it in case anyone saw. Realistically, the only way out of the room other than the door would be through the ceiling. It was a panelled design, and in the very corner was an air vent. She stood on her chair and pushed one of the panels up, pleased to see about a meter long empty space covered entirely in dust. She pulled the panel closed.


    Okay, she thought. How do I do this?


    It would probably be easy to get out of the current room she was trapped in. But what about after that? Where was this room? What kind of building were they in?


    She had absolutely no idea, and acting too impulsively would spell death. At the moment, they thought she was Maxine Vasques. If that changed, there was nothing to stop them from just killing her. Since Luise knew Maxine was probably trying to live as a common person at the moment, Lenore would probably pay the ransom, thinking it was his daughter who was being held. So, she needed to be able to escape, but couldn¡¯t get caught doing it.


    A brief plan formed in her mind and Luise put it into action.


    First, she undressed down to the barest of clothes. Not only would it be hard to move in a big poofy and unwieldy dress, if it got dirty, then the gangsters might get suspicious. Then, she quietly marked the spot where her chair was before picking it up and moving it to beneath the vent. Luise hopped onto the chair then removed the panel directly next to the air vent, and finally climbed up into the space between.


    The crawlspace was as she expected: dark and dusty.


    But it stretched out only as far as the roof did. From beyond, she saw it drop off, then even further out were dark metal walls of a larger building. A warehouse?


    Luise crawled along the roof of her small room and came to the edge.


    Yes, it was as she thought.


    The entire building was some old mechanics factory, with a conveyor belt and cubicles constructed afterward. In the center of the room, Luise saw a group of men sitting, including the scarred man who spoke with her earlier. She also saw a few guns sitting on the table. They were well armed.


    One last thing stood out to her.


    Across the empty building, on the other side ground floor was a concrete storage closet, and sitting at the entrance was a thug reading a book. Earlier, the scarred man told her that she was being held hostage with her ¡®brother¡¯, which Luise could only assume meant Maxwell. He was a creepy dude, and Luise never liked him very much.


    But if she was missing, and the kidnappers got angry, would they take it out on him?


    Ahhhhhhh¡­


    Did she really care? She wanted to grumble, but any noise could mean instant death. Was the kid really worth saving?


    Well, if she did rescue him, perhaps she could get some money from the family? Save them the trouble of paying the ransom off, so she could get a reward? It would be pretty difficult though; while Luise was acrobatic and stealthy enough from her years as a burglar, she¡¯d never actually killed anybody. If these gangsters stayed here, she couldn¡¯t picture a way of getting Max out without alerting anyone. Unless he was a gymnast or something.


    Ok, that idea was probably a bust. Could she escape and call the police?


    It was a possible idea, but there were some issues. That didn¡¯t necessarily make it any safer for Max.


    Damn it. This was hard.


    There was probably no way of getting him out. The best Luise could do is escape herself. Metal bars connected the top of the roof she was on to the warehouse ceiling, and she scanned across them. Following along the ventilation shaft were lines of windows, and at the end of each looked like a panel for opening and closing them.


    Making sure not to be seen, she walked along the metal beams and jumped across to the windowsill made of bricks. She pressed her face to the window to look outside.


    It was still early morning, as determined by the brightness of the sky. Identical buildings could be seen in the distance, and it looked like this entire area was an abandoned manufacturing zone. Years ago, right before the economy crashed, Paris had a booming business for factory workers. Not the best, but good enough to employ thousands. Now it was a desolate wasteland.


    Fuck. If they had people outside watching, escape during the day would be almost impossible. Even if she did try to run, they¡¯d be able to catch up with cars and shoot at her. And even if she tried to hide, the best she could do would be any of these other buildings. She knew that she¡¯d either need to dive into the river or somehow cross the streets...but both put her right in the open. This couldn¡¯t be something that could happen until late at night, when at least the darkness could mask her movements.


    Doing so was regretful, but Luise easily made her way back, swinging from the metal bars with perfect form. She crawled back into her room and set the tile back, then put her dress back on and returned the chair to the spot she had marked. The last thing Luise did was put her gag back on and tie herself up, though she kept it loose enough to pull off if she needed.


    ***


    Not much was happening at the Vasquez¡¯s mansion. A normal man would have stopped paying attention, but not Rico. Years of sniper training kept him fully alert. Even if he didn¡¯t care for the kidnapping scheme, he was loyal to the Gordoli Family. The late Laut Gordoli had saved Rico, which meant it was necessary to pay respects to the man¡¯s children.


    Even though Rico despised their actions. Those three were each worthless in their own way, but it was not within Rico¡¯s loyalty to do anything about it. While he didn¡¯t wish it, the best thing that could happen from this is the death of the three brothers. With that, he would finally become free.


    Those bitter thoughts clouding his mind banished at the sight of a newcomer.


    Rico checked his clock and took note of the entire situation so he could report it later.


    An important looking man with a wide-brimmed hat drove a motorcycle up to the mansion, spoke with a servant, then entered. It wasn¡¯t someone from the servant list, and it wasn¡¯t someone Rico could find on any of the other information sheets. Who was it? Some friend of the family? Or was it a person called to deal with the ransom?


    This could be troublesome, Rico thought, sucking on his teeth. That wasn¡¯t a police uniform, but someone with that type of confidence set off dozens of red flags in Rico¡¯s head.


    It reminded him of fighting against daemons and demons at the Burned Front.


    The self-importance of his movement. The grandeur in his posture and action. The absolute surety in himself and the belief that no matter what happened, he wouldn¡¯t be killed. It was the same type of delusion that people with power had. Whoever that man was, he was absolutely someone to worry about. But at the moment, there was no need to act. Rico had a device in his guitar case which could allow him to make a phone call directly from a phone line, but more realistically, he would need to descend the building and call from a pay phone. That meant abandoning his perfect spot.


    It could wait. He would watch to see how long the man stayed. Then, if necessary, he would act. Otherwise, when dusk came and they changed shifts, he would relay the information to Nick then.


    Things would not be so simple, however.


    Shortly after Rico finished his lunch, at around 1:10 PM, another suspicious person neared the building as some kids started playing in front of the estate gates.


    This was a younger handsome looking man in a black trenchcoat with long blonde hair. His movements were methodical, and he was obviously very aware of the world around him. Rico was actually impressed with how the man moved. It was as though his steps and body were magnetically attracted to the blind spots of those around him, and this person was able to reach the Vasquez mailbox without being seen. He slipped a small package into the duct and walked around a pillar as the gatekeeper was distracted by children.


    After that, he didn¡¯t appear again.


    Rico had to have missed something, but he wasn¡¯t sure what.


    There was nowhere for the man to go. The pillar was a single one standing before the estate¡¯s garden, and as servants walked around, none seemed to note anything in particular. One found the mail and brought it inside. Did this second mysterious person just vanish when Rico blinked? That was...possible, but highly unlikely. This man was elusive, but to escape a practiced sniper?


    The seed of worry found itself planted in Rico¡¯s head.


    There was a reason for the man disappearing from his sight. The blonde man knew Rico was watching him, and because of that, he knew to hide. It meant Rico¡¯s position was compromised, and in only a few seconds of thought, Rico calculated an immense amount of risk. He quickly put everything back in his guitar case and climbed down the building.


    Luckily, there was an alleyway nearby where he could drop into, and on the other side was a huge crowd of people. He could use that to disguise himself. Rico blended in almost immediately.


    It felt like someone was watching him.


    Was he caught? But who was it?


    It couldn¡¯t be the police. Even if Vasquez called them, how would they have figured out the sniping spot? And if it was, why would they try to deliver a package to their mailbox? This sequence of events was illogical.


    Rico stopped himself at a payphone and started dialing. He needed to report this, even as tingles along his spine made him feel paranoid.


    ***


    ¡°Things have mostly gone as planned,¡± Nick said to his two brothers. ¡°But it seems to me like little old Mr. Vasquez decided to go and call himself up some help. Not from the police, but probably from some specialists.¡±


    He had just gotten off the phone with Rico. The man was a man of dignity, but it was difficult to call him a gangster. Something about Rico bothered Nick, but there wasn¡¯t any point in wasting a useful tool like that. Rico was worried that there was someone tailing him, but Nick had his doubts about that. Regardless, things needed to be accelerated.


    ¡°What are we doin¡¯ then big bro?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Nick said. ¡°The inclusion of outsider help was well within my expectations. There was a reason I didn¡¯t say he couldn¡¯t on the letter, though truthfully, I didn¡¯t expect the man to be so bold. Apparently, it looks like Lenore hired two bodyguards, though we don¡¯t know who either of them are.


    ¡°Which isn¡¯t an issue. No trouble at all. What it does mean is that we can¡¯t cook him under the hot seat like our original plan suggested. Nope. What we¡¯re gonna need to do is make the deal tonight. Put a package in his mailbox with the details for the drop, then make sure we¡¯re open and candid to him about how much we know of his actions. If we call him out, it¡¯ll spook him, and then everything afterwards should be easy pickings.¡±


    Bruno clapped at the plan, but Dominic felt queasy.


    The more factors that came into play, the more risky the situation was. To a person without the confidence or skills to back themselves up, Dominic could only see the unexpected as a blockade that couldn¡¯t be overcome. But that comforted him in some respects. If a normal person like him was worried about this, then wouldn¡¯t Lenore Vasquez be just as confused?


    A stack of newspapers were tossed in front of Dominic in the middle of his thoughts.


    ¡°Dom, I got a job for you,¡± Nick said. ¡°Time to write another letter. Here, I just finished writing it. Make sure it seems as threatening as possible.¡±


    ***


    The meeting was set for 10 PM, but it was more of a drop off than anything else. It was still quite some time before then, but all of the Gordoli members were feeling anxious. The plan involved watching the senator and having his two assistants go separate ways before attacking them and stealing the briefcases.


    At 6 PM, some very unfortunate news came in from Frank, who delivered the package and was supposed to take over for Rico.


    Rico was missing.


    After the drop off was completed, Frank waited for half an hour at the meeting point, but Rico never showed up. This of course was completely unprecedented. Out of everyone in the gang, the single only person who would never be late was Rico. Before Frank went to his surveillance post, he gave Nick a call and explained the unexplained absence.


    This worried the Gordoli leader.


    Those earlier claims Rico had made about possibly being watched echoed throughout his head. Did Lenore have better security than they thought?


    Of course, nobody else had noticed anything. The two kids were still safe and sound in their rooms. None of his men saw anyone out of place around the deserted manufacturing district, or near the warehouse. Other than Rico disappearing, everything was completely under control. But the feeling of anxiousness wasn¡¯t going away. Nick was good at hiding his emotions, but after enough time, there was no way he could keep it under control if the pressure kept increasing.


    The worry in his mind was that the plans had been leaked.


    Rico was a very trustworthy member, someone who had served the Gordoli Family before any of the brothers had even learned how to fight. Nick knew the man didn¡¯t like him, but their relationship was one entirely of professionalism, and Rico was something of a badass elite. He was the type of person that would kill themselves rather than tell an enemy what was going on. The type of person who could steel their mind and grind through all sorts of torture without surrendering. But that didn¡¯t mean much if there were other factors in play.


    The Vasquez son, Maxwell, was supposedly consorting with a devil. Were there other devils or daemons in the Vasquez command?


    If there was someone who had the ability to read minds, or to force men to obey any commands, Rico would crack like any other mortal. This was certainly a possibility. It could explain why his man was missing.


    But if that happened, why hadn¡¯t anyone come to the warehouse?


    Nick wanted to wrack his brain for an answer, but there wasn¡¯t a point. He shunted all those worries away. If there was really someone coming to fuck with their plans, all they needed to do was kill ¡®em. And if he really needed to act, then he could.


    ¡­


    Actually, a spark of inspiration made its way into Nick¡¯s head. His lips slowly curled up into a wicked smile and he scratched the scar on his face. This could be interesting.


    ***


    Okay.


    After spending the entire day practicing, Max was very confident in what he had learned about the blessing from Oriaxs. The amount of flesh he ate was correlated to how much flesh he could alter, though it didn¡¯t convert at a one to one ratio. For example, the small amount of skin from the inside of his mouth was enough to transform his hands into tentacles and slip them through the ropes. Because he couldn¡¯t turn them back, the obvious thing to do was cannibalize those new tentacles, and once those made their way into his intestines, he regrew his hands.


    Hahaha.


    It was so bizarre. The flesh regrowing and changing shape was ticklish. It looked like it should be painful, but instead, the feeling was the exact opposite. He kind of enjoyed it.


    He made sure not to heal his ear. Recovering that would be too obvious, and there wasn¡¯t any good way of covering it up. Plus, he wasn¡¯t sure where he was, or when those gangsters would come back into the room. Even if he could remove their eyes or slice apart their brain stem, if he burned through all the meat in his body, it wouldn¡¯t matter. If he got shot and couldn¡¯t recover, it would be instant death.


    Max considered reinforcing his bones, but decided against it. There was also the possibility of doing something to himself that could instantly kill him on accident, so it was too risky. If there was ever an opportunity for him to take advantage of the blessing, he would take it. But he wouldn¡¯t act too early.


    Patience was a virtue he never had before, but this was a perfect time to develop it.


    ***


    --Half an hour before the accident--


    ¡°Grab the kid,¡± Nick said, suiting himself up. He slid a pistol into his belt and a switchblade in his pocket. ¡°Lyle, Mick, and Tom, you¡¯re with me. Make sure you¡¯re armed in case shit goes down. Also make sure to have masks at the ready. We need to keep ourselves alert at all times.


    ¡°Bruno, you¡¯re in charge of the girl and keeping the building itself safe. Keep everyone else with you, and make sure that nothing happens. Once the trade goes down, I¡¯ll call, and then you can take the girl and drop her off in the streets somewhere. I don¡¯t care where, but bring Dominic with you, and he¡¯ll keep you from doing something too stupid. Sound good? Alright, everyone put your hands in.¡±


    The Gordoli Family put their hands together in the center of the small huddle they had made. This was it. Their plan was going to come to fruition. It had to.


    After a cheer, they all split up.


    Bruno was dictating where to send his men, and the net to spread had grown shorter. Was there a reason for this, you may ask?


    Absolutely.


    Two of their fellow gang members, Eric and Rolly had been killed. Nobody knew what happened to them, but their heads came rolling into the building only a short while ago, both looking like they had been killed while in pure terror. It looked like someone sawed their heads off, and when men scouted around, they couldn¡¯t find anyone.


    Since then, they had taken up a defensive formation, but nothing happened. Fuck it, Nick decided, and they came up with the current plan. If it was an attack by Vasquez, then they needed to split his attention. Force him to do what Nick wanted.


    He wanted to grab the daughter, but that would waste too much time.


    Instead, he busted into the room Maxwell was dozing off in.


    ¡°Wake the fuck up, kid,¡± Nick said, pulling out the pistol and pressing it against the hostage¡¯s forehead. ¡°We¡¯re going on a little trip. And I don¡¯t have any fucking patience at the moment. Make a single wrong move and I blow your brains out all over the floor. Try me. I do not give a fuck at the moment.¡±


    The kid¡¯s eyes were wide with fear, so Nick deemed it fine.


    ¡°Tom, grab ¡®em and throw ¡®em in the car. I¡¯ll ride next to him to make sure nothing happens. The rest of you take another car. You¡¯re all in charge of separating and grabbing the suitcases from Vasquez¡¯s men. Bash them over the head or fucking shoot them. I don¡¯t care. Just make sure you have those suitcases in your hands before you do anything. Move.¡±


    ¡°Ay, boss.¡±


    Tom was a burly man and had no difficulty picking up Maxwell and slinging him over his shoulder. They hustled to the worn-down automobile, and Maxwell was tossed in the back seat. Nick got in next to him and set the pistol down on his knee, facing his hostage.


    But his eyes were on the area around the car.


    Was there someone watching?


    There had to be. The car¡¯s engine screamed like a monster. But nothing happened. Could they be waiting to attack the hideout? Well, Bruno would handle that. Splitting attention up would weaken any force, moreso on the attacker¡¯s side. Defenders, though reactive, had the ability to set the stage. And by forcing Lenore¡¯s hand, he could brute force the deal to work.


    In the warehouse, Bruno was arming his men head to toe.


    Finally, he thought. A fucking fight. I¡¯m glad we get to. I was worried nothing fun would happen.


    Even though this situation was a nightmare for everyone else, Bruno was revelling in it. He waved to his brother and the men he took as he left, then slapped Dominic on the back.


    ¡°Yo! Little bro, is something wrong? You seem sick.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m...I¡¯m kinda scared.¡±


    ¡°Scared? Of what?¡±


    ¡°I mean, what¡¯s going to happen? I don¡¯t understand...are we under attack? Who are we fighting?¡±


    The apprehension Dominic was feeling was something Bruno had never felt. It was the mindset of a normal person, where Bruno had been born completely different. A sociopath, through and through. His younger brother was annoying as hell, but he had never been in a fight before. After killing someone, the idea of death loses any weight it holds over you, so he just needed to go through that. Then maybe Dominic¡¯s nuts would drop and he could become a man. If he got the chance, Bruno would push towards that tonight.


    ¡°It don¡¯t fucking matter,¡± Bruno said. ¡°We¡¯re fighting whoever the fuck shows up. And why? Because we¡¯re men, that¡¯s why. Jack, go check on the girl. Bring her down here so we can use her body as a shield, just in case.¡±


    Bruno smiled at the thought. He could not give a signle fuck about those two brats. To him, it made more sense to kill them after getting the cash, but it wasn¡¯t what Nick wanted. Nick, Nick, Nick. Fuck! If he could get away with it, Bruno would strangle his retarded older brother without a second thought. If this gang was his to own, things would be different¡­


    ¡°Bossa, we gots a problem,¡± Jack said, returning with a grim look. ¡°Da girl is gone.¡±


    ***


    Throughout the day, Luise got better and better at escaping her bindings. The timing of when men came to check on her was methodical as well. Her guess was every four hours, after they changed shifts, one would come in to check on her. Make sure she wasn¡¯t dead, or ask if she needed to go to the bathroom. Fortunately she hadn¡¯t.


    That¡¯s how she basically learned everything that was happening.


    And as she saw the men drag Maxwell out of his room and out of the side door to the warehouse, she decided it was probably the best time to act. The metallic beams on the ceiling were like child¡¯s play to cross, and she¡¯d already made sure the window was unlocked. She crawled out of it just in time to hear the sound of an engine roar to life, and Luise stepped out of the building onto the roof.


    Ahh, freedom. It felt like such a long time since she¡¯d been stuck here, though it was only a day. There was a mild sprinkle and the air smelled just as bad as normal. Yes, this was the trash heap she called home.


    Just like inside, it wasn¡¯t difficult at all for Luise to slide down the side of the building from a drain-pipe. Someone inside was shouting curses at the top of their lungs, so Luise figured that they probably figured out she escaped. Oh well. Hopefully that didn¡¯t come back around to mean Maxwell¡¯s death...but at this point, there was nothing she could do. These men were armed and dangerous. Her life was priority numero uno.


    By using the shadows as cover, Luise was able to easily make her way out of the area. As she slowed her sprint to just a casual jog, her mind started to wander.


    There was someone who attacked the group¡­


    But who?


    Was Lenore Vasquez really the type of person who would risk his children like that? It seemed highly unlikely to Luise. He was a passive man, and they had more than enough money to pay the ransoms.


    Then who were they?


    For a second, the image of Hanson and Honey flashed into her mind. Yesterday she had lunch with her friend, and Luise had even explained how she was going to swap places with her mistress. Was that it? They certainly had the skills to pull something like this off, but it seemed even less likely.


    Technically, she was supposed to hangout again with Honey today, but still...it would be crazy if they got involved...


    I mean, what sort of series of coincidences had to happen for all that to occur?

 Chapter 8: Lovefool

    --That morning, Friday, Arco¡¯s Story, 20 hours before the accident--


    Asleep on Arco Jacks¡¯ couch was the daughter of a highly respected senator with an enormous fortune. The Vasquez family had intergenerational wealth that went back beyond WWII, and even during all the wars after the apocalypse happened, that wealth hadn¡¯t faltered. She was a product of how much human suffering?


    An evil person.


    Arco wanted to grab her snobby self-righteous face and punch it until his fist erupted from the other side. He wanted to tie barbed wire around her neck and hang her from the Arc de Triomphe. He wanted to skin her alive, cover her with salt, and let snails die upon her corpse. The amount of raw, unfiltered hatred Arco contained within his body towards this girl and ever single feux progressive out there caused his head to throb. He wanted to be violent. It was in his nature. The number of people Arco killed probably numbered over 100. He painted red not only because of his ideology, but because of the warped soul he wanted to express.


    But he was too fucking logical.


    Gah.


    If only I were a beast, he thought. I could tear apart and throw the shreds in the trash, then seek punishment and die. Finally rid myself of this horrid life of torture and sin.


    Alas, he was not. Killing her would do nothing. Despite the fact that she was the physical embodiment of everything that made Arco despise the world, she was just a drop in the ocean. Just a mere speck of blue on his red and black painting that needed to be killed. While his hands trembled, black tears flooded out of Arco¡¯s eyes into the sink he stood before. They colored his face dark like eyeliner, and the person in his reflection was ugly.


    He knew what he needed to do. Killing her meant nothing. But if he could shatter her ideals, break her down like the worthless human she is, then it would calm the ailing cries of his cursed soul. He wanted her to regret living. He wanted her to commit suicide after realizing that she wasn¡¯t a human being, and rather a parasite draining from society.


    The idea came to him in a dream.


    Standing before him were two figures, one a horse and the other a lion.


    Early in the morning, before the moon had set, Arco woke up, fully refreshed, and realized what he needed to do. First, he took Maxine¡¯s bag and browsed through it.


    Ha. What did he expect?


    It was full of clothes. Of course a rich girl couldn¡¯t get by without clothes. They have no personality, so they pretend to be something by how they look. And her clothes were fashionable ones. The type of thing someone would wear to try and fit in with ¡®the poor¡¯. But it was laughable. Anyone who had ever lived with filth could tell instantly that this was made for the wealthy.


    There were also a few more items he took out.


    Her wallet. Inside it contained a healthy amount of cash and all her identification. Arco contemplated taking some of it, but then decided against it. She already seemed apprehensive about being on her own, and he didn¡¯t want to ruin the trust she had in him. It was easy to get, but a single mistake could cause her to flee. If he was going to ruin this human being, then he needed her to stay around.


    There was also a notebook and photo camera. He briefly flipped through the pages and stifled a laugh. Yep. Just as pretentious as he thought it would be. The camera was important, and finding it just solidified the plan he needed to accomplish. Arco silently went and found the old hunting rifle he had and aimed it at Max¡¯s head. He held up the camera and took a picture, framing it as though she were being restrained.


    Not the best photo he had ever seen, but all that mattered was that you could tell who she was.


    He set the rifle against the television stand and started putting all her belongings back in her bag. So far, things have gone well. Arco had an old typewriter that he used to create a ransom note.


    Yes, his plan was to send a threat to the Vasquez Family, claiming he was holding their daughter hostage. Because she wouldn¡¯t want to see them, it would be easy to keep her away if they tried to show up. And once he got the money from them, all he¡¯d need to do is ditch her and run. When the clues all came together, she would realize how idiotic she was, and would never feel comfortable around human beings ever again. It would be an absolute destruction of the mind. That type of satisfaction was the main reason for Arco¡¯s plan.


    There was only a single thing he needed. Another piece of proof.


    ***


    After Max got her haircut, Arco went back and collected it. The stylist seemed frightened by his request, but when Arco explained that she was going to make it into a wig, the woman calmed down and did what he asked. Arco took the hair and tied it together, shoving it into the inner pockets of his trenchcoat, along with the letter. It all came together in a large envelope.


    Now he just needed to get away from Max for a short time. With his blessing, it shouldn¡¯t be too hard to travel to the Vasquez house in a short time...but it was risky. It would need to be a good reason to seperate from her. Something that she would believe.


    As they walked through town, while having some stupid conversation, Arco glanced down an alley.


    At the back of it were two men beating down some street urchin with clubs.


    Of course. That was exactly how he could get away with it.


    For some reason, everything was coming together just as he wanted it to. Things were unfolding like inspiration, and whenever his mind started to stumble, a new clue emerged. It was absolutely perfect. This was his destiny.


    Arco noticed Max staring off into the distance and realized she was deep in thought about something. He held his hand right in front of her face and snapped as loudly as possible, just to watch her jump.


    ¡°Yo, you zoning out? What did ya¡¯ wanna get for lunch?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea. Anything is fine. Pick your favorite. It has got to be delicious since you¡¯re a good cook and everything.¡±


    ¡°Heh, putting a heavy burden on me? Well, in that case¡­¡±


    There was a small restaurant he liked to go to, where they made great sandwiches. It was also a straight shot to the mansion, and it was usually busy during this time of day. He¡¯d be able to sneak off without much difficulty, and even if Max tried to follow him, the crowds of people would block her way. They sat down after ordering and she kept looking at a group of annoying singers outside wistfully. It was around time for him to get going, so he took a look at his watch.


    ¡°Hey, Max, I gotta go run to the toilet, so I¡¯ll be back in a second. Make sure nobody takes my food, okay? That happens sometimes.¡±


    She gave a weak smile back and nodded.


    It was to obvious to tell what she was thinking. This fragile girl was frightened of her surroundings. Being alone even for a short while was difficult for her to do. But even with how tough of a request he was pushing on her, Arco knew there was no other option for Max to take. She knew nobody else. She wouldn¡¯t return to her parents for whatever reason. She had burned every possible bridge that existed, save for his, which was covered in poisoned nails.


    Naturally, he did not go to the bathroom.


    Arco rounded the corner to where the bathrooms should have been, then left through the backdoor he knew was there. It exited to an alley, and from there he got to the street. After that, it was only a ten to twenty minute walk to the mansion. There were people who looked like staff walking around, so Arco leaned up against a nearby wall just to watch. At the front of the estate was a small outfacing mailbox with a small slip-in hole. It would only take a second to drop his mail off.


    But the less people who knew about his existence, the better. If he left Max thinking she was duped by a ghost, and started questioning whether Arco was even real or not, it could only do bad for her mind. Really, that was the only point in this.


    The problem was the woman standing by the large gate with a smile on her face.


    The Vasquez Estate was quite large, and there were plenty of trees and greenery inside. To prevent anyone from actually going in, however, the land was wrapped up by a metallic spiked fence, with space in between barely enough to get your arms through. Arco didn¡¯t want to use his blessing if he didn¡¯t need to, but it would be pretty hard to pull this off without doing so.


    The woman wasn¡¯t a guard, per say, rather, from what Arco observed, she served more as a receptionist, greeting people as they walked by. The type of person who absolutely pays attention to the people around her. This was cruel. She was almost too attentive, and more than once Arco found himself looking away as she almost made eye contact with him from across the street.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    God damn, he thought. Why try so hard? How much do they pay you to waste your eyes like that?


    Dark thoughts were starting to invade his brain again, and his stomach growled. His fingers began twitching and his head was getting light. Fuck. He was starting to lose it.


    ¡°Hey kid, wanna make some money?¡±


    This was the solution that came to Arco as he regained his sanity. There was an urchin standing in front of him, staring blankly as Arco held out a few bills. The brat looked at them carefully before raising his eyebrow.


    ¡°What do you want me to do?¡±


    ¡°Just go play ball in front of that old lady over there. Get your friends. Easy peasy.¡±


    ¡°Is this for something suspicious? Are you a criminal mister?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Arco said. ¡°And I¡¯m gonna steal a shit load of money from those bastards. They think they¡¯re so great, living in a house like that. I¡¯m gonna bring ¡®em down a peg. Don¡¯t you wish someone would?¡±


    The urchin nodded fervently.


    ¡°I hate the old granny! Last time we kicked a ball into their yard, she popped it!¡±


    ¡°Then don¡¯t worry, kid. I¡¯ll get revenge for ya¡¯. Now here, take the money and forget about me.¡±


    Once the urchin had his money shoved into his pant pocket, he ran over to gather his friends. They had a small leather ball that they started kicking around like football. As they continued kicking it around, the woman guarding the gate became angry and shouting at them. That distraction was perfect for Arco, who didn¡¯t hesitate once.


    He knew how crowds worked. All those years as a pickpocket did him good, and he was able to move through it like a flash. As someone stepped forward, his foot found a place behind theirs. Nobody could see his face for longer than a second, because he only faced the back of people¡¯s heads, and the ebb and flow of the human tide kept him just as elusive as the people around him. Becoming part of the mob let him step to the mailbox, right behind the lecturing gatekeeper.


    He was struck by a sensation that made him want to go on a murderous rampage.


    The streets smelled like sewage. That was just a constant blemish he had always known. As rain poured down from the sky, covered in ash, everything was dirtied. Smells lingered, and nobody cared to clean. It meant you had to constantly clog your nose to get by. Arco spent the entirety of his life living like that, but as soon as his nose moved to the estate, it all changed.


    Flowers, a sweet aroma that almost enticed him in like a doting lover. It was almost too much, the sickly smell of a siren.


    Only a second had gone by before he calmed down. Now was not the time to fuck up. This only reassured him that what he was doing was correct.


    Arco slipped the envelope into the mailbox and stepped into the estate, taking a hard right to avoid being seen. It was like a different world inside. Not only were the smells different, but it was almost like the sounds of the streets had vanished. Then, he vanished into smoke.


    ***


    --13 years ago--


    Sitting in a bathtub full of blood, with symbols carved all over his torso and lower body, Arco prayed. He clasped his hands together and dunked his head in the blood. Blood of people he had killed mercilessly. He held his breath until he lost consciousness.


    When he awoke, there was a handsome man with a horse¡¯s head caressing him, both completely naked. The devil¡¯s penis was completely erect and Arco knew he had been raped from the raw pain everywhere on his body. It was a familiar feeling. The devil holding him had various piercings all along his body, cut into his skin and hanging, many overlapping and connected to each other. The most eccentric of them were a pair of chains that connected the being¡¯s nipples to his nose ring, and as the devil began speaking, Arco felt himself unable to feel anything. Like being trapped in a void.


    ¡°Greetings, young one. I see you have called upon me. What is your name?¡±


    ¡°Arco,¡± he said, coughing up blood. No, it wasn¡¯t blood. It was some kind of black bile that stuck to his skin and smelled like oil. ¡°Arco.¡±


    ¡°Then. Greetings, Arco, the human.  I am the 70th Regent of Hell, 7th and final Great Prince, That Who Can Step Anywhere, Seir. It is upon your behest that I have appeared here, and your sacrifice was enough to please me. I have read the insides of your soul and determined everything I need to know. There have been many who ask for my blessing, but only few who I believe deserve it. You are one who will use it well.


    ¡°Anywhere you can see, you can step to. It will be as though you are moving through space unhindered, at great distances. However, the source of each step will be your body. A normal human who uses this blessing would instantly perish as all of their innards got rearranged through travel, but you will not observe that burden. To grant you absolute freedom, I had to destroy all of your insides and reduce them to mush. No longer do you have blood, or bones, or organs. All your flesh currently hosts is the ichor that will fuel your blessed steps. Once your fuel empties, you will die, and will then spend the rest of eternity waiting in my domain. Earlier, I gave you a preview. The void. Emptiness in all directions, for eternity. So live well, human, and enjoy the freedom I have temporarily provided.¡±


    ***


    Instantaneously, Arco was standing in the alleyway he had been watching the entrance from. There was an intense pain throughout his body as the fuel that sustained him was drained, and he dropped to his knees and vomited out a liter of black goo. It stained the earth beneath him, and a second later, started smoking as it evaporated away.


    Fuck¡­


    That was more than he expected. Of course, he had cheated Seir, and this was his punishment for doing so. He could feel the weight missing from his body, and dark thoughts flowed through his mind. Would he be needing to do this more? There was a risk. Did that mean he needed to refuel?


    Probably.


    Arco sighed.


    He walked deeper into the alley, to a place where there weren¡¯t any crowds. To where nobody would see him.


    In those places were where other people who wanted to become invisible lived. Two bums were sharing a stale piece of bread, and as he walked into their tiny square of land, they shot him angry glares.


    ¡°Fuck outta here, faggot!¡±


    ¡°Yeh! This our bread!¡±


    There people were fine.


    Nobody would miss them.


    Arco took a step towards the men, who were sitting. Before they could stand up, Arco¡¯s foot shot out in a curve as he struck the man on the left¡¯s nose with the iron toe of his boot. It totally busted the man¡¯s nose and cracked his skull against the wall behind.


    The sudden geyser of blood from his friend changed the other homeless man¡¯s mind in an instant. Rather than fight, he just dropped down to his hands and knees and bowed.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t kill me! Take my bread!¡±


    Arco grabbed whatever hair was left on this man¡¯s head and yanked him up to look him in the eyes.


    ¡°I am not going to kill you,¡± Arco said. ¡°What I¡¯m going to do is break both of your arms and legs in ways that will never recover. Then, I¡¯m going to take a small knife and cut a hole in your stomach and drink your blood. You won¡¯t die immediately, but unless you seek medical attention, which you can¡¯t, you will die overnight in your sleep.¡±


    The man stared in horror, trying to push away from Arco as best he could. But there was no contest. Arco was surprisingly strong underneath his baggy clothes.


    ¡°A-are you...a vampire?¡±


    That made Arco smirk. A vampire during the day? Well, the man wasn¡¯t totally wrong.


    ***


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± Arco said, tying his hair back. ¡°I¡¯m...sorry. My bad.¡±


    Holy shit. It was difficult for him to hold in his laughter, so he turned away from Max. He expected it, but there was some doubt in his mind. The fact that she was so desperate for him that she waited for almost two hours was hilarious. If she had left, he might have actually given her a modicum of respect. But no, just some dumb broad through and through. He had always been right.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± she said. Turning her head away, Max handed him a bag. ¡°Here. Take it.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Your sandwich. I made sure nobody took it.¡±


    ¡°Jesus,¡± Arco said slowly, taking the food. Then he laughed. ¡°You¡¯re not even gonna ask what happened? Why I look like I got my ass kicked to sunday and back?¡±


    She had to notice how shitty he looked. Whenever he used his blessing, it pained him physically. His skin would get pale and bruises would appear randomly over his body where fuel drained out of. Dark bags appeared under his eyes, and his fingernails darkened.


    ¡°No. You didn¡¯t pry into my history, so I won¡¯t pry into yours. That¡¯s the fair thing to do.¡±


    He sat next to her. Close enough for their legs to touch.


    ¡°Well, thanks. Also, thanks for staying and waiting to give me my lunch. I was actually really looking forward to it.¡±


    ¡°Guh, don¡¯t thank me for anything. I don¡¯t have anywhere else to go, and I didn¡¯t remember where your house was. If I knew, I would¡¯ve just gone there instead. Although I guess I¡¯d just be waiting outside the door, then.¡±


    ¡°Ha. If that ever happens, don¡¯t worry. I keep a spare key under the doormat.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that make it easy for someone to break in?¡±


    ¡°Sure. But what, are they gonna steal my broken tv?¡±


    ¡°Good point.¡±


    It was too easy. He could do this on autopilot. She was eating up his words like they were the truth without even thinking about it. As Max stood, he smiled to himself. This was going to work perfectly. Scum like him was going to finally win.


    ¡°Time to go back, then?¡±


    ¡°Go back?¡± Arco raised an eyebrow. No, not yet. He needed her to stay with him until tonight. ¡°Are you kidding? We¡¯d miss some of the best sights in the city. Anyway, I need to treat you for saving this.¡± He shook his sandwich bag. He needed some way of exciting her.


    ¡°Are you sure? You¡¯re all bloody¡­¡±


    No, he didn¡¯t need to excite her. She was going to do that all on her own. Without even thinking, Max reached out to touch the blood on Arco¡¯s lip.


    It was an accident that the blood was still there. That was from when he sucked those homeless men¡¯s blood, and just forgot to clean it off his face. Or missed it when he tried. But with the way she pulled her hands away, embarrassed, and stared at the red dot on her fingers made him pause. He wiped it all away immediately.


    For a moment, he thought that it would all be over. But then he realized it was the exact opposite. To her, such a touching and intimate moment was a way of chaining herself to him. A way of excusing his absence. How pathetic!


    In his joy, Arco couldn¡¯t help but do a standing backflip.


    ***


    The plan was simple.


    There was an alley nearby, and at 11, Lenore Vasquez was going to throw a bag of money into a dumpster marked by Arco¡¯s sticker. Just a little before 11, Arco would temporarily leave the restaurant, just after saddling Max with a huge bill. He¡¯d grab the money and leave. As much fun as it would be to see the fallout firsthand, it would spell his doom and give them a chance at retribution, which he wouldn¡¯t be able to stand.


    All he needed to do was keep a good attitude and enjoy his final night in the city of Paris. This was his favorite restaurant, and there was nothing that could go wrong.


    That was, until everything did.


    A car smashed through the side of the building only centimeters from Arco¡¯s head, shattering glass everywhere, before spinning around and slamming into a wall across the street.

 Chapter 9: Grenade

    --That morning, Friday, the Fragat¡¯s Story, 10 hours before the accident--


    ¡°So, did you figure out what happened with those two last night?¡±


    ¡°Eh, some crazy shit,¡± Honey replied with a shrug. ¡°Let¡¯s just say if I told you, you¡¯d probably say: ¡®holy shit that¡¯s crazy¡¯, with a dumbass look on your face and an exaggerated gesture with your arms.¡±


    ¡°No, come on, tell me. I promise I won¡¯t do anything stupid.¡±


    ¡°You swear?¡±


    ¡°Swear on my heart. Cross it and die and yadda yadda.¡±


    ¡°Alright. The basic shit is that a bunch of dumbasses all got together and tried to summon a devil. Or, well, I guess they did summon one. And it shot blood everywhere and did crazy stuff and whatever.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit that¡¯s crazy!¡± Hanson said with a dumbass look on his face and his arms shooting in every direction.


    ¡°You little...next time you sleep, I¡¯m going to drop a weight on your balls.¡±


    Hanson got down on his knees and slammed his head against the pavement.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t. I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯ll never do it again.¡±


    Honey sighed and helped him up. ¡°Alright, whatever. Anyway, she said they can change people¡¯s bodies, so I figured we could set her up with Dr. Hawk and leech money off her for a while.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit that¡¯s crazy!¡± Hanson said with a dumbass look on his face as he did a somersault.


    ¡°You¡¯re absolutely dead to me now.¡±


    Even as they walked through the streets where crowds of people couldn¡¯t escape the troubles of their lives, the Fragat siblings had nothing but jokes and laughter. In a world of slow demise or painful obliteration, very few people were able to live on the bright side. These two were such people. As they walked by a food line for the unemployed, their giggles drew both ire and admiration from onlookers.


    Of course, the siblings looked strange to anyone that didn¡¯t know them. An unlikely pair that weren¡¯t related at all.


    They were not the type of people who blended into the streets, but they were rarely hassled. How did they do it? Perhaps the sheer confidence made them difficult to approach. Last night was one of the few exceptions; people couldn¡¯t face them head on, so it was required to ambush them from behind. That type of absolute confidence in all of their actions was like a ward that prevented regular humans with regular ambitions and problems from approaching.


    It was even so apparent that people moved aside to let them through the crowd.


    ¡°Seriously, seriously, though,¡± Hanson said. ¡°Did the Doc Hawk actually take her in?¡±


    ¡°Huh? How should I know? I just left her at his office and said she needed to pay back all the money owed. If she can¡¯t get a job we just sell off her body parts.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay. That makes sense.¡±


    ¡°And did you figure out what happened to the guy at the hospital? Did he make it?¡±


    Hanson shook his head.


    ¡°Nah, doesn¡¯t look like it. I guess the bullet went through some important artery or vein or whatever. I got no clue. But the doctors told me he was gonna die soon enough. If I had known they signed a deal with a devil, that would¡¯ve changed everything. Damn!¡±


    Nobody cared that they spoke openly about horrible crimes and taboo. Even the most hardcore of gangster kept their mouths shut about these types of things, but the siblings didn¡¯t care. If they needed to, it wouldn¡¯t be difficult to kill every single person on this street. In fact, it might not be hard to kill every person in Paris if it came right down to it.


    While that wasn¡¯t true, because they believed it, the Fragat siblings acted as though it were.


    ¡°What did you want to get for lunch, anyway? I was thinking pizza.¡±


    ¡°Pizza? Didn¡¯t we just have pizza a few days ago?¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean we can¡¯t have it again. Pizza is pretty good.¡±


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t deny that, but if you eat it too frequently, you¡¯ll get sick of it.¡±


    ¡°Could you ever picture yourself getting sick of pizza?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm...well...I guess not¡­¡±


    ¡°Then pizza it is!¡±


    ¡°No, hold on¡­wait.¡±


    Hanson grabbed Honey by the shoulder and pulled her aside into an alley. It was an uncharacteristic move, but the two were now seperated from the crowds.


    ¡°Hey, you might not believe this,¡± Hanson started, a violent smile creeping onto his face. ¡°But you wanna know who I just saw?¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯d you see?¡±


    The smile on Hanson¡¯s face was wide and his eyes were full of glee. A normal person might think he was happy, but Honey, who had been with him since their earliest memories, knew better.


    ¡°Our old friend Arco Jacks.¡±


    ***


    Years ago, before any of them had even hit twenty, a group of six teens met each other in the slums of Paris. Each one of them was broken, somehow, and through that, they became allies.


    Hanson and Honey Fragat.


    Arco Jacks.


    Bee.


    Luise Tower.


    And Jay Thoren.


    A young and clever group of criminals, these six had no difficulty pulling off a number of crimes and earning names for themselves. But as they got older, they started to grow separate from each other, and individual personalities began to clash. In a fit of rage, Jay tried to kill Arco, but in the end, it was Jay who died. After that, they decided to end their group.


    ***


    The siblings watch as Arco casually meandered around town with some girl.


    While she looked energetic and joyful, they could tell something was wrong. Arco was only playing along, that much was obvious. Was this a job? Of course, neither sibling could picture him doing any kind of bodyguard work, so it seemed strange. Well, what was even stranger was that Arco was still in Paris. Hanson was cracking his knuckles in anticipation.


    ¡°Slow down, killer,¡± Honey said, slapping him on the back of the head. ¡°What do you think is going on? He running a scam or something? I can¡¯t imagine much else. Normally I¡¯d say this feels like prostitution, but knowing him¡­¡±


    ¡°Whatever it is, it can¡¯t be good.¡±


    ¡°Eh, you still hung up on all that? Come one, it¡¯s been how many years?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember.¡±


    ¡°So why are you all angry at each other still? I mean, come on. Luise got over it, even.¡±


    ¡°Luise can get over whatever she wants. I¡¯m the one pissed off.¡±


    Honey sighed. Out of the two, she was the one with the brains. That also meant she had to be the one making the plans, and it meant she had to keep Hanson reigned in. If she wasn¡¯t here, he¡¯d probably walk right up to Arco and try to murder him in the middle of the street. He¡¯d succeed, but it would cause more headache than she wanted to deal with.


    Okay, there is a way to figure this out, she thought. Just need to do some research. But for now¡­


    Once again, Honey slapped her brother on the back of the head.


    ¡°Yeah, alright,¡± she said. ¡°I get it. We¡¯ll figure out what¡¯s going on. It is a little strange. Totally get it. But if he sees you, then he¡¯s just gonna run, and you know how easily he can get away from you.¡±


    ¡°Grrr¡­¡±


    ¡°Admit it! You can¡¯t do anything on your own!¡±


    It was true, so Hanson let his muscles relax.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°Then what¡¯s the plan?¡±


    ¡°Just leave it to me.¡±


    ***


    The perfect opportunity came when Arco and his girlfriend stopped for lunch. It was a crowded bistro, one with a penchant for making fantastic sandwiches. Or at least that¡¯s what people said. Honey couldn¡¯t tell the difference, so it didn¡¯t matter to her.


    After ordering, the couple sat at a window where they could gaze out at the square. A wise move by Arco; it allowed him to get a perfect angle on anyone entering the building. But it didn¡¯t seem to matter, because almost immediately after he sat down, Arco checked his watch and stood up. He said a few words to the girl that Honey couldn¡¯t hear, then let through the back.


    Go!


    The girl was distracted by the acapella group singing outside and reached around for her backpack to pull out a camera, and as she was taking the picture, Honey went into action.


    She strode into the building, right up next to the girl. To anyone watching, she just looked like another customer trying to take a look at the daily specials marked on the chalkboard above the counter, but Honey knew how to disguise her actions. Her hands went into the bag until she found something useful. A wallet. Honey popped it open for a second, checking to make sure the girl had an ID, then when it was confirmed, she walked back out the way she came. The entire theft took less than ten seconds, and she was back at the alley hiding with Hanson before the girl even put her camera back.


    Smiling greedily to herself, Honey flipped through the contents of the wallet.


    ID. Cash. Bank and medical information. Citizenship card.


    Far more than anyone should carry in a wallet, but upon seeing the girl¡¯s ID, Honey understood the situation completely. What a fucking insane coincidence?


    Maxine Vasquez.


    The name was horribly familiar to Honey. It was so silly, she couldn¡¯t help but laugh out loud, earning a confused look from Hanson. The name meant nothing to him, but to Honey, things were falling into place like some massive puzzle of conspiracy.


    ¡°This girl, haha, Maxine, haha, Vasquez,¡± Honey said, between gasps for air as she laughed. ¡°Is the one, that, hahahah, Luise, is working for! Hahahaha!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    Instead of answering, she just let herself calm down. It took a few minutes.


    ¡°Alright, alright, let me explain,¡± Honey started. She cleared her throat and giggled. ¡°So: Luise is working as a maid right now, you know that? Good. So, she¡¯s been doing this for a year or two, and whenever we hang out, she always complains. About how her boss is this annoying girl, still around our age, who is a total loon. Super weird.


    ¡°And the weirdest thing ever was what Luise told me about yesterday. This girl, Maxine, wanted Luise to pretend to be her so that she could run away from home. Like, Luise pretends to be the pretty princess and the real princess runs away from home to escape like her engagement or whatever. And I was all like: ¡®girl, you ain¡¯t no princess. Maybe if you were disguising as one of their horses you¡¯d be good¡¯. And she said: ¡®shut up, you¡¯re one to talk¡¯. Then, I said: ¡®wait, I get it. If her husband sees you, then he¡¯ll cancel the marriage on his own...genius!¡¯ And et cetera¡­¡±


    Honey realized her story was dragging and getting off topic as Hanson started tapping his toes expectantly.


    ¡°Back to the main point. Anyway, so this girl is obviously the same person. Super rich, and wanted to run away from home. But who does she end up with? Arco Jacks. Scummiest person we know. Now, I may have said that Luise has gotten over what he did to her, but that doesn¡¯t mean she wouldn¡¯t get pissed if she saw him. That leads me to believe that this girl probably doesn¡¯t know who he is. I mean, Luise wouldn¡¯t introduce them, so they must have met on their own. Sometime in the last day, since that¡¯s when the switch happened.


    ¡°Of course, I doubt Arco has changed at all. He still despises rich people, so when he figured out who this girl was, he probably realized he could extort her or her family or something. But still, we know Arco. He would never stoop as far as to prostitution. He¡¯d never sell his body for work, and he¡¯d never behest himself to a rich person¡¯s wishes, so I gotta suspect he¡¯s taking advantage of them.


    ¡°The final key to our problem: Luise said the only reason they could pull off their switcheroo plan was because the father was out of town and the mother had terrible eyesight. That means today, of course, Luise must have been found out. We were gonna meet and celebrate for lunch, since she¡¯d obviously be fired. Yes, as you now must realize, I had already decided where we were going to eat, and to reward Luise, I was going to force you to eat with us! Moving along, though, normally, a girl like Maxine probably doesn¡¯t know her way around the city. Luise even said the same thing: she figured it wouldn¡¯t last longer than a day. But if Arco is trying to take advantage of her, he could keep her afloat, and if Maxine wants to be away from home, he offers a perfect floatation device. That means that while Luise will be fired, the family won¡¯t know where their daughter is, and they¡¯ll start to panic once they realize she isn¡¯t coming home. The reason, of course, is because she is with Arco. But if we go and tell them where she is, we can ask for a bounty reward and get paid! But more importantly, we can fuck up whatever Arco¡¯s plans are. What do you think?¡±


    ¡°I have absolutely no idea what you¡¯re saying but I agree with all of it,¡± Hanson said, nodding. ¡°I stopped paying attention halfway through. So, when do we get to kick his ass?¡±


    ¡°Not until we¡¯re guaranteed pay,¡± Honey said, completely ignoring Hanson¡¯s provocation. ¡°And the best way to do that is with Luise, since she¡¯ll be able to vouch for us. So now, we just need to wait.¡±


    ***


    Luise didn¡¯t show up to the pizza parlor.


    Perhaps she wasn¡¯t figured out? It was unlikely she forgot about the meeting, and the two women were incredibly close friends. This made the siblings worried, and ultimately, they decided something must have happened.


    Worst possible scenario was the Vasquez family holding Luise hostage. Torturing her for information. While it seemed unlikely, neither knew enough to make those claims.


    So, they decided to go to the mansion and ask for themselves.


    Something stopped Hanson.


    There was a single man in the crowd who looked different than the rest. He was wearing dark clothes and had a long, bushy mustache and worried look on his face. The way he moved was intimately familiar to Hanson; it was the gait of a trained killer. He was carrying a guitar case, but how the weight was distributed was all incorrect. As Hanson followed the killer¡¯s eyes, it became clear they were trained on the Vasquez estate.


    But why?


    There was something else to this that they didn¡¯t understand. Hanson probably wasn¡¯t smart enough to figure it out normally, but that didn¡¯t matter. If you chose not to play by the rules, you really didn¡¯t need to try very hard.


    ¡°Honey, stay here for one second,¡± Hanson said, putting on a pair of gloves. ¡°I¡¯m gonna be right back.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Why? Did something happen?¡±


    But he had already vanished into the sea of pedestrians. After blinking, Honey sighed and decided to go and get something to drink.


    ***


    ¡°...anyway, boss, I¡¯ll go back to watching them. But if I don¡¯t make it back by tonight, just assume the worst.¡±


    After that, the mustached man set the phone back and did a quick spin to check if anyone had been listening. Unfortunately for him, Hanson had been, but wasn¡¯t on a horizontal plane for viewing.


    The payphone this man had been using was near the subway entrance, in an empty room with dozens of pipes and machinery in the ceiling. For the people of the city, it was just a regular thing. How else were gas and electricity supplied throughout the city? But to Hanson, it was a separate dimension. He stood among these pipes, staring down at the man with the guitar case, and heard everything.


    There were some explicit names left out, but Hanson understood the general gist of what was going on.


    This mustached man was a gangster, or part of a criminal group. That group was watching the Vasquez estate, and this man had seen two bodyguards go into the building. But from their descriptions, Hanson knew both of them, and he knew neither were bodyguards. This guy was doing surveillance, and reporting back any information he came across. He seemed knowledgeable, so Hanson followed him further.


    The mustached man kept to the alleys and side streets as he returned to the mansion, however, he did something Hanson wasn¡¯t expecting. The man hoisted the guitar case onto his back and leapt up towards a metal railing on the side of a building and started climbing.


    It was in an area without anyone around, but what surprised him more was how quickly the man climbed. Like he had been here before.


    Naturally, Hanson had no difficulty climbing after the man in complete silence.


    On the roof, it became clear what the man was doing.


    This building was taller than any of the others around it. It also had no roof access, and from it, you had a perfect view of the Vasquez building as well as the entire estate surrounding it. From the ground, you wouldn¡¯t be able to know this. It was planned ahead of time. Well, it was probably time to act.


    As the man started pulling rifle parts from his guitar case, Hanson walked over to him.


    ¡°Yo, bro! Whatcha doin¡¯ up here?¡±


    The words came from nowhere, and the mustached man wasn¡¯t expecting them. He dropped the parts he was assembling and just stared for a second. Then in the next he was grabbing something from his shirt.


    But Hanson was faster, leaping onto the man and dislocating his shoulder. The hand which was reaching for a gun went limp.


    Hanson covered the man¡¯s mouth to prevent a scream from being released.


    ¡°Okay, well, that went south pretty quick,¡± Hanson said with a snort. ¡°Sorry, your arm ain¡¯t broken or anything, I just popped it out of the socket for a second. I can put it back shortly. I just wanna ask a few questions. That cool?¡±


    It was a while before the pain started wearing off on the man, but his eyes finally returned to normal. He looked resigned.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes. If I take my hand off your mouth, will you scream?¡±


    The man shook his head the best he could, so Hanson removed his hand.


    ¡°What do you want? Who are you?¡±


    Hanson put his hand back on the man¡¯s mouth.


    ¡°Relax here, buddy,¡± Hanson said. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t tell me you haven¡¯t done this before. You looked so professional. You know how this goes: I ask you a question, you answer me. If you lie, I break some part of your body. Then, we continue until one of us is either bored or dead. Capisce?¡±


    As he once again removed his hand, the man spoke.


    ¡°Capisce.¡±


    ¡°Heh. Perfect. We¡¯ll start with: what¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Rico Barnes.¡±


    ¡°Who do you work for?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m going to dislocate your other arm now.¡±


    There was a loud popping sound and a muffled grunt as Hanson did as he promised. After a few seconds, he asked again.


    ¡°Who do you work for?¡±


    ¡°A crime family. I can¡¯t say which one, so you¡¯ll need to kill me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine, I¡¯ll move on then. What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    The reason Rico hesitated to answer was not because he meant to keep quiet, but more because of how stunned he was at the speed of Hanson¡¯s questions. Rico had interrogated before, so he knew how to make people crack. And he knew that the man holding him down could easily force Rico to spill with the correct pressures. I mean, this man just dislocated both of his shoulders without a second thought. This person had no qualms with killing.


    ¡°Not gonna answer again, huh? Well, this is one I do need to know.¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± Rico said. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you. I¡¯m doing surveillance on the Vasquez family.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because we need to know what they¡¯re doing.¡±


    ¡°Duh,¡± Hanson said. ¡°That¡¯s obvious. Why are you watching them? Are you working with Arco?¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Arco?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a no. Don¡¯t ignore my question. Next I¡¯ll be pulling out one of your eyes.¡±


    Hanson wasn¡¯t bluffing, and Rico could tell. Well, this was a good enough time to surrender. When the time finally came, he wouldn¡¯t be able to die for men he didn¡¯t trust. To Rico, the Gordoli family was now gone.


    But something was strange.


    ¡°Our group is...holding something of theirs¡­¡±


    ¡°Holding what?¡±


    Suddenly, it became clear.


    This guy had no idea what was going on. Who was he? Obviously he wasn¡¯t either of the two bodyguards from earlier, and he wasn¡¯t on the staff list Rico had memorized. Could he be a secret bodyguard? Or perhaps he was the daughter¡¯s boyfriend?


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, to make this easier,¡± Rico started. ¡°Can I ask you something? To clarify.¡±


    Hanson sighed.


    ¡°Fine. But if you keep trying to drag this out, I¡¯ll take out both eyes.¡±


    Rico swallowed air to calm himself.


    ¡°Are you not working with the Vasquez family?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not,¡± Hanson admitted openly. ¡°I mean, it seems like they¡¯re being extorted, so we figured we could suck some money out of them. And what are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Our group kidnapped their children and are ransoming them back.¡±


    That caught Hanson off guard for a second.


    Wait.


    Hmmm.


    Something seemed weird with that statement, but Hanson couldn¡¯t figure it out.


    ¡°Where are you holding them? And how much are you ransoming?¡±


    ¡°In an abandoned warehouse in the factory district. Roughly 500,000 francs.¡±


    ¡°And your job was to watch the building?¡±


    ¡°To surveil them and make sure the police weren¡¯t called,¡± Rico said. At this point, he had completely given up. ¡°You want to work with us? I¡¯m sure the boss could give you a split of the reward.¡±


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m not interested in a split. I want it all.¡±


    Rico didn¡¯t respond.


    ¡°Okay, well, that seems good for now,¡± Hanson said. ¡°I¡¯m going to bring you back to my friend, and so long as you work with us, I promise I won¡¯t kill you, probably.¡±


    ***


    The three had returned to the Fragat household, where the real interrogation began. Nothing Hanson could do would ever compare with Honey¡¯s ability. No, quite literally, it was impossible.


    Years ago, when they were very young children, the two had been sold off to the Institute for experimentation.


    As a result, Honey could release small microbes into the air which caused different sorts of emotional reactions of those in her area. One of them was absolute submission, and she created a massive cluster of those spores in her hand before blowing them into Rico¡¯s face. If he was hiding anything before, he wouldn¡¯t be able to now. All of the subtle details before came spilling out, and Honey, who had a better mind, was able to understand the entire picture.


    It caused her to stumble over and bellow out laughter until she fell unconscious.


    Hanson splashed water on her face to rouse her, and after a few seconds, she remembered what she had figured out, then started shaking again.


    ¡°Jesus fucking christ! Pull yourself together woman!¡±


    Hanson slapped her twice.


    ¡°What the hell is going on here!?¡±


    Eventually, she calmed down and explained the absurd series of coincidences that created the situation at hand.


    ***


    ¡°Greetings, ma¡¯am,¡± Honey said, smiling politely to the old gatekeeper. ¡°We¡¯re here to meet with Mr. Lenore Vasquez, if we can. We¡¯re a detective group...just ask him if he needs help. Please and thank you.¡±


    Again, the spores helped alter the emotional state of the woman, and she let the two in to see Lenore.


    But it wasn¡¯t just Lenore.


    Sitting along with him was a thin and wimpy butler, kneading his hands.


    Then there was a familiar face to the Fragat siblings.


    With his annoyingly cocky face and massive trademark wide-brimmed hat, Lance Gordon sat smoking a fat cigar while looking at the newspaper. When the two siblings made eye contact with him, all three froze on spot with gasps.


    ¡°W-who are you?¡± The man who was probably Lenore asked. He sat at the desk which obviously acted as the centerpiece of the room.


    ¡°A bunch of scumbags,¡± Lance answered, his hand itching to whip out a revolver. ¡°Let me take care of this. If you two are the ones who took the children, then just hand ¡®em over now and I¡¯ll treat ya¡¯ nice. But I never thought I¡¯d see you doing something like this.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait. Hold on just a second.¡±


    Honey waved her hands and stepped in front of Hanson, cutting off the tension slowly building between the two men. She didn¡¯t want to turn the room into a battleground.


    ¡°We¡¯re not here because we did anything with your kids, Mr. Vasquez, in fact, it¡¯s the other way around,¡± Honey said. She was looking at the confused senator. ¡°We accidentally stumbled on a bunch of information about their possible whereabouts. It was our intention to come here in hopes of helping out, since the situation is probably more complicated than you think.¡±


    ¡°More complicated? What do you mean? And who are you people?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to ¡®em,¡¯ Lance said, his eyes narrowing. ¡°They¡¯re troublemakers, I¡¯ll tell you that. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re looking for here, but we have it under control.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± Honey¡¯s eyes scanned the room quickly before figuring out what to say. ¡°No, that¡¯s wrong. You don¡¯t have all the facts.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    Honey¡¯s posture, which had been defensive throughout the confrontation, slowly relaxed and she stood taller. She yawned and took a seat in a nearby chair in the office, spinning around slowly as it swivelled.


    ¡°You¡¯re wondering why there are two Maxine¡¯s, am I correct?¡±


    A moment of silence.


    Then, Lenore, the butler, and Lance all spoke at the same time.


    ¡°How do you know that?¡±


    ¡°She knows!¡±


    ¡°God damnit!¡±


    But before anything else could happen, Lenore finally put his foot down.


    ¡°Enough.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t loud, and it wasn¡¯t energetic, but his tone was like iron. The weight behind it was that which only a parent could use, and since he was the only parent in the room, the command it brought was unable to be defeated. Everyone¡¯s eyes fell to him.


    ¡°How did you come across that information, young lady?¡±


    Honey smiled and cleared her throat.


    ¡°Many, many sources. Of course, before I begin, allow me to introduce ourselves, I¡¯m Honey, and this is Hanson. We¡¯re a pair of siblings who do some work on the darker side of society, but it isn¡¯t like we don¡¯t mind helping out the good guys,¡± she started. ¡°But to answer your question, most of it came from torturing a member of the Gordoli Family.¡±


    ¡°The Gordoli Family?¡± Lenore asked. ¡°I¡¯m not sure...I thought Paris was free from the mafia influence? I didn¡¯t realize organized crime was happening¡­¡±


    Honey would have answered his question, but Lance jumped in before.


    ¡°There isn¡¯t,¡± the detective said. ¡°The Gordoli are just a small time gang. Nobody important.¡±


    ¡°Did you change your mind? Do you trust them?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t, but¡­¡± Lance sighed. ¡°Currently, I¡¯m not sure if there¡¯s a better chance. Fragat brats. For tonight only, we¡¯re allies, alright? That means no funny business, either way. Got it?¡±


    Hanson answered quickly. ¡°Got it.¡±


    ¡°Ehh, sure. But anyway, like I was saying, we captured and tortured one of these gang members,¡± Honey continued. ¡°Because he seemed suspicious. And he told us they had recently captured both your children, and were planning on ransomning them. Of course, he only knew a few details, but we had everything else figured out. Running the clock back a bit, the biggest issue is why your daughter appears to have been captured twice, no?¡±


    ¡°We just assumed they were trying to take advantage of us,¡± Lenore answered, his lips pursed. ¡°But what¡¯s the truth?¡±


    ¡°The truth is: your daughter is technically held hostage, but not by the Gordoli crew. Last night, your daughter and her maid swapped places, and your daughter tried to run away from home. While Luise, her maid, was captured by the gang along with your son, your daughter was beguiled and taken in by an even far worse criminal, one who us siblings dislike to our very core. Arco Jacks. You know him, right Lance?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard the name. He made a deal with a devil and can teleport, correct? Does a number of heists?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the one.¡±


    Lance had fully given up trying to resist them at this point, so he just looked at Lenore and nodded his head in confirmation.


    ¡°Well, while we hate Arco, Arco in turn hates rich people, much like yourselves. While my brother and I were out on the town, we saw the two of them together, and eventually I swiped your daughter¡¯s wallet. That¡¯s how I figured out who she was, and from then on, everything is history.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Lenore said. ¡°So, this is what happened. Well, we knew that Luise had been taken, but had no idea who the culprits were. This answers all those questions, but still, it doesn¡¯t solve the problem before us. We still need to pay them, unless there¡¯s some plan to get my children back without letting them get hurt.¡±


    ¡°Of course there is.¡±


    For the first time, Hanson let his opinion be known. He smiled. ¡°If you just pay us, senator, I¡¯ll kill every one of them.¡±


    ***


    For the first part of their plan, only Hanson needed to act. In case he failed, everyone else needed to be ready, so they all stayed at the mansion, getting prepared. With some cajoling, Hanson managed to get the keys to Lance¡¯s motorcycle. As he left the building, a glint caught his eye from a building he had climbed just earlier today.


    They just don¡¯t learn, do they?


    After killing the man who replaced Rico, Hanson pulled out a checklist from his pockets. On it were the names of every person in the Gordoli family, along with basic descriptions of each. This was probably Frank. Well, if he was any indicator of strength, Hanson was going to have no difficulty wiping them out.


    He didn¡¯t.


    It was getting dark now, so there were less people on the streets as Hanson rode to the abandoned factory area. He parked the motorcycle in a nearby alley wand walked the rest of the way. Even though Rico didn¡¯t say anything about a guard, there probably were at least a few people stationed.


    Yep.


    Two men standing by the fenced off entrance to the factories. They lit a fire in a garbage can and were talking. Hanson couldn¡¯t see any weapons, but if they didn¡¯t have guns, they were pretty stupid. So, he pulled a knife from his belt, walked to a good distance still obscured from their vision, then flicked the blade out like a bullet.


    ¡°Agh!¡±


    It struck a man in the shoulder, and his friend reacted with shock a moment later.


    ¡°Rolly, what the fuck!?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s-¡±


    He didn¡¯t even have a chance to finish his sentence before Hanson was upon them. With a swift motion he stabbed his other knife through Rolly¡¯s throat, then slashed out through the side, showering himself with blood.


    That red waterfall was cover, and the other stunned henchmen didn¡¯t even have time to blink before Hanson leapt atop him and pressed the blade against his throat.


    It didn¡¯t cut through.


    The man sighed a massive breath of relief and wet his pants.


    ¡°Far too soon to be relaxing, bro,¡± Hanson said. ¡°Which building are your friends in? If you lie, I¡¯m gonna cut your dick off.¡±


    The man cried out an answer, and Hanson killed him. He actually had no idea whether the man lied or not, but it didn¡¯t matter. He¡¯d be able to find the correct building eventually, just by looking. And for intimidation factor, he sawed off the heads of the two men he had just killed. He did so without ever realizing Rolly was the man chasing the two daemons he helped the day before. Everyone was insignificant against a master like Hanson.


    ***


    Hanson watched from behind a crate as the man who was probably Nick Gordoli shoved the person who was probably Maxwell Vasquez into a car and started driving away. The intimidation worked. Now first, what he needed to do was kill everyone inside and rescue Luise.


    Ah shit.


    If he rescued her, wouldn¡¯t she just be more clingy?


    Perhaps he could pretend he didn¡¯t know where she was? That would suit him just fine. Cool. Time to go.


    Before he could do anything, there was a loud scream from inside.


    ¡°FUCKING BITTTCCHHHHHH!!!¡±


    Hanson blinked.


    What?


    He tried to guess what could have happened, but came up with nothing. Oh well.


    It didn¡¯t matter, he thought, grabbing onto the side of the building with his bare hand. It was a cold metal, with screws drilled in at common points. By using those, Hanson could easily climb up the side of the building from the outside, all the way to the roof. From the roof, he could enter through the windows, many of which had been broken.


    There were men inside, moving around in the light like roaches. At the center of the group was a muscular giant, who Hanson assumed was Bruno. The toughest brother. To his side, clutching a gun as though his life depended on it was Dominic. Hanson could also pick a few more faces out of the crowd.


    Two were going outside. In their hands were small pistols.


    While they were within the light shining from inside the warehouse, they were safe, but the moment it went away, Hanson jumped.


    His timing was good enough, and he crashed down on one of the men, shattering his bones and body into paste. As the other man turned, Hanson spun his knife and stabbed it into the man¡¯s face, splitting through his skull. On instinct, the man fired blindly, alerting everyone in the area. Shouts came from the building as men started to rush out.


    Okay, let¡¯s do some quick math.


    Rico is currently tied up, and Frank is dead. So are two from the entrance, and now these two. That¡¯s six. Add in Nick, along with the three men who went with him, and you have ten. That means, including Bruno and Dominic, there should only be three more guys.


    Four men came running out of the warehouse as Hanson slipped behind a defunct crane.


    ¡°What the fuck happened here?¡±


    ¡°Boss, how the fuck do we deal with this?¡±


    ¡°Shut up, you fuckers, take a look¡­¡±


    Then silence.


    A tingle went up Hanson¡¯s spine. He looked down at his feet to see bloody footprints leading from where he stomped a man to death. Well, there wasn¡¯t much way out of this one. Hanson grabbed onto a small piece of welded metal on the crane, barely larger than an envelope, and started climbing. It was enough cover for his body, and for the first time in his life, Hanson was glad to have a small build.


    The sound of footfalls could be heard below him, and he took a look. There was a tall black man, holding a sawed-off shotgun, and another guy following the blood with a submachine gun. It would only be seconds before they saw him, and the other two weren¡¯t in sight.


    Fuck it.


    Again, Hanson let himself drop.


    ***


    As babies, the two were sold to the Institute.


    They didn¡¯t have any actual relation, but after the brutal testing and daily experimentations, they spent time with cells facing each other. To get a basic education, every day, they were forced to study academic material, but when the lights were out, they could talk.


    The ¡®outside world¡¯ was a fairy tale for the two children, and they dreamed of blue skies and green meadows from their books.


    The project Hanson was put through was called ¡®Jottun¡¯.


    The first time he got to go outside was to be dunked into the ocean for three hours, along with 30 other Jottun kids. The temperature was sub freezing, but a catalyst in their body kept them heated in such cold temperatures. Out of the 30, only 12 came back alive.


    Hanson was one of them, and for ten days straight, he couldn¡¯t talk.


    Eventually, Honey broke through to him and he told her it was all fake. There was nothing good outside. The world was ruined.


    In those days, they didn¡¯t have names, only numbers. But after being sent on a duo mission to infiltrate a cult circulating in District 8, they killed their handlers and decided to live on their own. That was at age 11. By the time they decided to live in Paris, they were 13, and had real names, deciding to take the world as they chose, rather than just being passive observers.


    Neither would die so easy.


    ***


    There wasn¡¯t anyone immediately below him, so Hanson couldn¡¯t do his usual tactic, but he used the momentum from hitting the ground to spring up and ram his first knife into the black man¡¯s back. Whether it was luck or skill from his target, the man moved just enough to prevent it from being an instantly fatal blow. As the man staggered forward, he pulled away, turning to face Hanson.


    Before he could pull the trigger, Hanson threw his other knife.


    It struck the man in between his trigger finger joint locking the man from shooting. That happened in under a second.


    The other man, noticing this, shouted out a cry of vengeance as he turned to spray with his automatic. Hanson fell to his hands and crawled forward as the bullets flew, getting to the man''s feet and ramming his skull into the man¡¯s crouch.


    By the time he did that, the black guy had switched the hands holding his shotgun, and aimed it at Hanson.


    But Hanson tripped the other gangster forward and used his leg as a buffer to shield from the shotgun blast, which destroyed most of the man¡¯s leg and two of Hanson¡¯s fingers. The tripped gangster screamed in pain, and shouts in the distance echoed his cries.


    Without mercy, Hanson grabbed the black man¡¯s shotgun and snapped the man¡¯s wrist backwards, though emotion didn¡¯t show on the wounded man¡¯s face. True to a classic africalos, as Hanson yanked the gun from his hand and blasted a hole through the man¡¯s chest, the gangster was devoid of any emotion.


    Hanson turned and kicked the screaming man in the jaw, breaking it, before hopping on top of the crane.


    He did so just in time, because Bruno and his other gangster rounded the corner as Hanson cloaked himself with shadows. He kept himself still as the two stared down at their friends¡¯ bodies. The man with the shattered leg was still alive, and he pointed up.


    Hanson meant to shoot Bruno, but the gang boss grabbed his underling and used him as a shield. Bruno leapt backwards, still holding his screaming teammate as a shield as Hanson took another shot. He tried one final blast, but the gun was out of ammo. He tossed it to the side and descended from the crane, opposite to Bruno.


    ¡°Yo,¡± Hanson called out. ¡°You¡¯re Bruno, yeah? I killed Nick, so you wanna surrender or what?¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up! Lying mother fucker!¡±


    It was a bluff that let Hanson ascertain his enemies rough location. Because it seemed like Luise was probably fine, he could do whatever he wanted here. After glancing back at the building to make sure the missing person hadn¡¯t come out, he refocused on his current enemy.


    ¡°I ain¡¯t lying, he¡¯s the one with that crazy scar, right? Dude was weak as hell.¡±


    Hanson heard the growling of the large man. He could probably fight the man if he got the jump on him, but missing two fingers from his primary hand was crippling. It meant only one knife, and a majority of his power came from his injured right hand. The bones were slowly regenerating, but it was way too slow. These wouldn¡¯t be fixed until his heart rate slowed down. Because he was needed to deal with Nick, this had to be finished quickly.


    ¡°And when he died, it was pretty pathetic. Dude was crying and begging for me to spare him. You gonna do the same thing?¡±


    This time, Hanson didn¡¯t hear Bruno at all. It was a bad sign.


    Sensing a chill on his spine, Hanson made a mad dash from his hiding spot.


    It was good timing, because a hail of bullets pelted the area, then started to chase after Hanson¡¯s trail. He slid back behind a wall to catch his breath. He couldn¡¯t pick out where Bruno was, so the strategy of taunting the man was starting to backfire.


    ¡°Ah come on! You¡¯re boring bro! I thought you were supposed to be the fun badass one. Pussy!¡±


    There was a click next to Hanson and he looked down to see a grenade.


    Holy shit, that was unexpected.


    Even though he jumped away, the explosion shook him and the metal from the grenade stuck into his wounded body. It mostly hit his right side, and he felt broken bones. It would probably be impossible to fight back now. He tested his leg to find it was also pretty badly wounded.


    Hmm. This cut back on his ability to fight quite drastically.


    ¡°Yo, bringing a grenade to a gunfight is totally unfair...and I didn¡¯t even start out with a gun. I had to steal one of your guys¡¯s!¡±


    As he said that, Hanson limped away as quickly as possible. At this point, it didn¡¯t actually matter whether or not he killed these dudes. If what he heard was correct, Luise had already escaped, so there wasn¡¯t anything important here. He needed to be at the central square before the hand off. That was going to be tough, but possible.


    ¡°Oh my god, it really was you!¡±


    The familiar voice bothered Hanson more than if it were an enemy. When he turned, his old friend had already struck, wrapping her arms around him and dragging him further into cover. She sat him with a crunch on broken glass from half a mirror. Bad luck.


    ¡°Luise, I can¡¯t believe you were seriously captured,¡± Hanson said, trying not to pay attention to her. ¡°Must be getting dull, huh?¡±


    ¡°I was just doing my job,¡± she said. ¡°Can¡¯t blame a girl for trying to get money. So how¡¯d you find me anyway?¡±


    In the distance, there was another explosion. No matter what, the police would be arriving, so they needed to go soon. But unfortunately, Hanson was currently stuck. In all of the world, there were very few things that stole confidence from him. One of those things were women. And Luise was down to undergarments, which made him unable to look at her.


    ¡°Come on, we need to go,¡± he said. Good thing it was dark, because his face was flushed as she continued to hold onto him. ¡°Cops are gonna be coming¡­¡±


    ¡°Huh? But don¡¯t you need to kill that guy?¡±


    ¡°I mean, yeah, but¡­¡± He held up his limp and mangled arm. ¡°Not gonna be easy with this. Can¡¯t get close to him, and I don¡¯t have a gun, so that¡¯s useless.¡±


    From seemingly out of nowhere, Luise pulled out a revolver and dangled it in front of his face.


    ¡°You mean like this?¡±


    ¡­


    Hanson sighed.


    ¡°Okay, how did you get that?¡±


    ¡°Picked it off a dead body, only has two shots though¡± she said, pouting at the lack of surprise on his face. He actually was quite surprised, but just good at hiding it in the dark. ¡°I wanted to see what all the shooting was about, and when I saw you jumping around, I¡¯m not gonna lie, I was totally starstruck. I¡¯m now even more in love with you than before.¡±


    ¡°Ah! D-don¡¯t talk about that type of stuff¡­¡±


    ¡°Haha. Come on, don¡¯t be such a wimp. You¡¯re supposed to be manly, aren¡¯t you? With all those badass boasts, isn¡¯t there more to show for it?¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t like that,¡± Hanson said, his voice barely a whisper. ¡°But thanks. I¡¯m not gonna ask you to help me kill him, but can you help? I wouldn¡¯t normally need it or anything, but just this once, we need to get this over quickly¡­¡±


    ***


    All of his men were dead.


    Bloodlust radiated out from all of Bruno¡¯s pores. This was a crime with a punishment of death and desecration. Bruno¡¯s men existed solely for his own personal use, and the only one allowed to kill them was him. Whoever the fuck this person was¡­


    Whoever¡­


    Whoever¡­


    They were going to die. They would be ripped apart, and Bruno would wear their bones like armor. He was going to become a viking. In his right hand was an automatic pistol, recently reloaded. In his left was the final grenade, ready to be thrown. The first had done damage, he could tell as much by the bloody scene it left behind. The second, unfortunately, was a miss.


    That meant his third needed to be good. The amount of blood left on the ground as a trail was good evidence this intruder was hurt, and because it was all on the ground, Bruno was sure this acrobat wasn¡¯t going to be approaching from above.


    He was closing in, he could tell.


    The predatory instincts in his blood were telling him prey was just around the corner.


    ¡°Hey, last chance to surrender,¡± the annoying voice called out, just behind the cement wall in front of Bruno. Barely five meters away. ¡°If you take one more step, you enter my critical threshold, and you¡¯ll die instantly.¡±


    Bruno paused.


    Not because he believed the threat, but because a cruel thought appeared in his mind.


    The most logical course of action was to throw the grenade and kill the intruder from cover, but was that what he wanted? Were the deaths of all his men going to be avenged by such a weak way of killing? So lacking in violence? That was the type of murder Nick would do, the type of killing that only a coward would go through.


    His thought process wasn¡¯t completely empty; he also realized that while the man might have had a gun, he probably didn¡¯t have ammo. If he did, he wouldn¡¯t have run. But if this man was trying to bluff, claiming he still held onto the shotgun, the threat would be valid. Luckily for Bruno, he was well aware that Jack¡¯s custom sawed-off only had four shots in it.


    This was a sure bluff, and if Bruno called it, he could crush this intruder permanently. A wicked smile appeared on his face as he approached, ready to shoot, just in case.


    There was a moment where time paused.


    Bruno wasn¡¯t sure why, but something happened. Perhaps it was the click and sound of metal falling to his feet?


    When he looked down, he saw the pin of the grenade he was holding on the ground.


    Why?


    He would never know, because with all his focus on Hanson, he hadn¡¯t noticed a quiet shadow appear behind him. Luise, finally enacting her revenge, pulled the pin and retreated without a sound.


    In the same moment, as the pin hit the floor and made a sound, Hanson popped out from around the wall with a revolver in his hand. He shot twice: once to destroy the arm holding Bruno¡¯s grenade, then again in his right leg.


    Bruno dropped to one knee, his grip too weak to hold onto the grenade as it dropped. There were only seconds before it exploded.


    He knew he was dead.


    But he was a man of bloodlust and aimed his automatic at Hanson. With a smile, he pulled the trigger and unleashed a spray of bullets onto the intruder. But instead of seeing blood, all Bruno saw in his final moments was shattering glass.


    In the few moments they had, Hanson had commanded Luise to set up a mirror using the shards shattered around them, doing her best to make him reflective on the opposite side of cover. Across from the cement wall was another, made of sheet metal. Hanson, knowing roughly where Bruno was but not for sure, took the shot through the metal wall after throwing his voice to the other side. If he had been able to see, he could have put two through the eyes, but there was no guarantee he would be fast enough.


    But Bruno didn¡¯t know this. He simply saw the figments of a man coming apart unharmed as the explosion ruptured his innards and destroyed half of his body. Even as he died, his still functioning arm tried to make a fist.


    With their enemy defeated, Luise returned to Hanson.


    ¡°Damn, I can¡¯t believe that worked,¡± she said, putting an arm around her short friend to help carry him back. ¡°We make a pretty good team, huh? I bet it¡¯d be even better if we were married.¡±


    ¡°A-ah...you shouldn¡¯t talk like that. Marriage is supposed to be important, you know?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯d get married to you, fool. It¡¯s a good deal, since I¡¯m so hot.¡±


    Hanson didn¡¯t answer; he was too flustered and just groaned as he looked away. This was the reaction she was used to, so Luise laughed. Her laughter was cut short as the final member of the Gordoli family, and the youngest, stood before them with a pistol.


    He dropped it.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for all the trouble my brothers and their friends caused you guys,¡± Dominic said, bowing his head. ¡°Good luck in stopping them. I hope you can rescue your brother just fine. Family is important.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Thanks for driving,¡± Hanson said, holding onto Luise as gently and politely as he possibly could. His body was starting to recover, but it wasn¡¯t at the point of riding a motorcycle. ¡°You don¡¯t have to, ya¡¯ know.¡±


    ¡°Yes I do.¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to see that kid die,¡± Luise said. ¡°And if what you said about Maxine is true, we need to make sure Arco doesn¡¯t do anything bad. Even after everything that happened, I just can¡¯t seem to hate him. It isn¡¯t his fault that he¡¯s broken. It isn¡¯t any of ours.¡±


    Hanson didn¡¯t say anything. He couldn¡¯t feel the same. But why? He didn¡¯t understand. How could everyone just forgive and forget what Arco did? The amount of pain and suffering their old friend caused was atrocious. It was only because he dropped to his hands and knees and cried for forgiveness before running that Hanson didn¡¯t kill him on spot.


    No, it was because he didn¡¯t want to kill a friend. But now, after years of simmering on it, no longer did Hanson consider Arco a friend. He didn¡¯t care about any of the surrounding reasons Arco could have had for his actions; at this point, the man was nothing but scum. A black spot in Hanson¡¯s mind. A reminder that even if you think someone is good, they aren¡¯t. Someone who could easily do the worst possible things to their friend.


    Almost as if Luise could tell Hanson¡¯s emotion from his grip on her, she sighed and turned her head at a traffic stop.


    ¡°Stop getting so angsty. Focus on something better. Like the smell of my hair. I got to use a rich girl¡¯s shampoo for the first time, and it felt really good. Kinda smells like limes. What do you think?¡±


    ***


    As the two pulled up to center square, something caught Hanson¡¯s eye.


    It was in the car directly next to them.


    What he saw would leave any normal human in shock as the man sitting in the backseat''s head exploded.


    Then, the car he was watching revved to life and jolted forward, smashing through the side of a building and then spinning around and slamming into a wall across the street.

 Chapter 10: I am the Walrus

    --The accident, 10 PM--


    As the car drove through the streets, Maxwell felt sweat beading all over his body. This was it, this was the time he needed to act. There weren¡¯t many cars or people on the street, but there were a few. When they finally got to central square, the car stopped. Standing in the middle of the square was Max¡¯s father, looking worried, and standing with two men. One of them was very gaudy and flashy, with a large wide-brimmed hat, and the other was Mr. Brown. They were both holding suitcases.


    And when the town¡¯s grand clock struck 10 and started ringing, each one split off in their own direction.


    But for some reason, this bothered Nick.


    ¡°No, there¡¯s someone else,¡± he said, blood starting to trickle down the scar on his face. ¡°There¡¯s someone missing.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Tom asked, turning around to look his boss in the face.


    ¡°What Rico said. He told me who the people were that came and visited the house. One of them looks like the hat guy, but the other wasn¡¯t an old man. It was the one Rico said he was the most worried about. A guy with long blonde hair. This is a trap. We need to kill them.¡±


    Nick turned the safety on his gun off and started rolling down the windows when a hand touched his leg. He turned to see why Max had grabbed him when his skull shattered into needles and punctured his brain, killing Nick instantly.


    He didn¡¯t even have a chance to react, but there was a loud crunching sound as his head imploded. Tom turned around but a hand grabbed his shoulder before he could do anything. His ribs became razor blades and eviscerated the insides of his chest, causing the man to vomit up blood and lose control over his muscles. His body jolted and slammed on the accelerator, launching the car through a nearby restaurant window and spinning before smashing into a wall across the street.


    Fortunately Max¡¯s seatbelt was on so he didn¡¯t fly through the windshield, but he did bounce around in the car and bash his head against Nick''s corpse. Temporarily dazed, Maxwell just pushed his hands against his head to keep his brain from shaking around inside his skull. He needed to vomit, so he unbuckled himself and pushed out the door.


    Outside, in the restaurant that just had half of the building broken through, Maxine and Arco sat frozen in place. Had the car been only a few centimeters closer, it would¡¯ve been instant death.


    ¡°That was a close one,¡± Arco said, trying to settle himself. ¡°Guess that¡¯s good luck, huh?¡±


    But Maxine wasn¡¯t paying attention to him.


    ¡°Max?¡±


    She stood from her chair and started walking over to the accident, looking at her little brother as he puked on the ground. As she started to get closer, he lifted his head up.


    ¡°Sis?¡±


    But that wasn¡¯t all. From the center square, Lenore watched in horror as the car crashed down the street. That was frightening enough. What startled him more was seeing Maxine step out of the crumbling rubble from the damaged building and Maxwell dropping out of the damaged vehicle. The surreal moment utterly escaped him and he was frozen with a strange sense of joy and worry.


    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s going on over here?¡± Arco said, appearing behind Maxine, staring down at the hurt boy. The police would probably be coming soon, but there weren¡¯t any sirens yet. Arco had no idea if the drop off was complete, but he wasn¡¯t going to take any chances. The only thing to do was push forward. ¡°Are you okay bro? Do you know each other?¡±


    It should be known that Arco recognized Maxwell but was only acting as if he didn¡¯t.


    ¡°He¡¯s my brother,¡± Maxine said. Then, she dropped down to give Maxwell a hand up. ¡°Are you okay? Did you get hurt?¡±


    ¡°Sis...what happened? Why are you here?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    As the two fumbled questions at each other, Arco noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Two things, actually.


    The first was that Lenore Vasquez was starting to wander over with tears streaming down his face. The senator was completely alone and had his hands out, reaching for his kids, even though they hadn¡¯t noticed. It would be only seconds before they all met and his plans would be ruined that way.


    The other and more troubling thing was further back.


    Arco¡¯s eyes met with Hansons¡¯, who was getting off of a motorcycle and cracking his knuckles with a bloody arm. Sitting still on the bike was Luise, looking on the scene with interest. Chills began to overtake Arco¡¯s body as he saw the expression on his old friend and current enemy¡¯s face. The last time Hanson had worn that expression, Arco had nearly died.


    Simultaneously, two massive problems appeared, and Arco needed to make a choice.


    He looked back down at the siblings as something insane was said.


    ¡°This guy is a kidnapper,¡± Maxwell said, pointing at Arco. ¡°They were keeping me locked up. We gotta run.¡±


    What?


    How?


    Arco had absolutely no idea why Maxwell said such a thing. It made no sense to him.


    But it shouldn¡¯t, since it was an illogical thing to say. The currently dazed brother didn¡¯t actually know who Arco was and hadn¡¯t seen him before; but what Maxwell did know was that his sister was being held captive. He had never seen her, and never realized Luise was mistaken for his sister. For that reason, the strange person named Arco just looked like a threat.


    But all of these coincidences happening together at the same time made Arco¡¯s mind crack. No longer was he able to act on reason, his mind would now work like an animal¡¯s.


    ¡°What is he talking abo-¡±


    Maxine turned to ask her question, but didn¡¯t get it all out.


    Arco punched her in the jaw, hard enough to instantly knock her out. She crumpled down as Arco reached around out to punch Maxwell just the same. But the brother was a killer now and had left behind any concepts of morality.


    ¡°Die fucker!¡±


    Maxwell grabbed Arco¡¯s arm and meant to sever the man¡¯s spinal cord.


    Nothing happened, and Maxwell realized why an instant before his own jaw was hammered. There was nothing inside Arco¡¯s body. It was just liquid. There were no bones or organs, and there was nothing to manipulate. Perhaps if Maxwell had focused on slicing or tearing skin something might have been effective, but there wasn¡¯t time as his vision went black.


    Arco crouched down and through them both over his shoulder.


    He looked at both Lenore, whose face of joy turned to despair, and Hanson, whose look of rage had only grown stronger.


    ¡°Chase after me and they¡¯re fucking dead,¡± Arco said, before his body and everything he was holding vanished in a puff of black smoke.


    ***


    When the car crashed, both Mr. Brown and Lance were heading in their respective directions, and even with the screeching and slamming sounds in the distance, neither were willing to falter. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    But for the butler,he felt extreme fear.


    His entire body was shivering, not just from the cold sweats, but from worry. In his hands was a briefcase with an enormous amount of money, and the only instructions they had were to walk until someone in a mask came and met them. Of course, there was some plan, but still, he could imagine nothing good happening. Only things going wrong.


    The streets weren¡¯t particularly crowded, but people were alert at the moment. Everyone was staring off towards the car crash, and some were going to check it out.


    Each of their glances made Mr. Brown¡¯s skin tense.


    Who was going to approach him?


    Everyone looked like a suspect, and everyone looked like a criminal. But deep within his core, the butler knew he needed to walk forward. Those kids needed him, no matter how painful it got.


    So he closed his eyes and walked forward.


    A hand placed itself on his shoulder. It felt large.


    ¡°...y-yes?¡±


    When Mr. Brown turned, he felt fear. The man standing there was large and muscular. He had a thick mustache and sunglasses, even though it was nighttime. The shadows cast over his face made it impossible to discern anything else.


    But the monstrous image invoked by Mr. Brown couldn¡¯t tell such things about his face. His knees shook.


    ¡°Hand it over,¡± the thug asked, wagging the hand not on Mr. Brown¡¯s shoulder. ¡°The cash. Then keep walking.¡±


    ¡°Y-you¡¯re one of them?¡±


    ¡°One of what?¡±


    ¡°Those gangsters...who kidnap children?¡±


    The criminal paused for a second, his face contorting into an indescribable emotion. He let go of Mr. Brown¡¯s shoulder and rubbed the back of his own neck.


    ¡°Look, dude,¡± the man started. ¡°Man¡¯s gotta eat. I didn¡¯t want to hurt anybody. But you know how it is. Some days, you just gotta bite the bullet and do something bad to survive.¡±


    ¡°Kidnapping children?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not little kids. Those are grown adults. Anyway, give me the damn money and go on your way.¡±


    But something had changed in Mr. Brown¡¯s mind.


    Was it because he was standing face to face with what he had feared before? And now realized the alien fear of the unknown had become measurable, and the evil men that were their enemies weren¡¯t the devils he had once thought?


    Whatever the reason, these weak excuses insulted the butler.


    This man standing before him claimed this was just simple work. Of course, it was tough to get jobs nowadays, but to turn to kidnapping? Harming others just to live yourself?


    That was not something Mr. Brown could accept.


    He planted his feet firmly on the ground and puffed out his chest.


    ¡°Look here, sir,¡± Benjamin Brown started. ¡°If you are troubled and having difficulty getting through life, then you shouldn¡¯t just start doing crimes. All you do then is make it hard for other people, and that makes them commit crimes. Can¡¯t you see the terrible circle of pain you perpetuate?¡±


    When he finished his short rant, Mr. Brown had tears in his eyes. He couldn¡¯t even remember the last time he shouted, and he could have never pictured himself shouting at such a threatening person before. He also realized that acting like this could ruin everything. It was against the plan, and it meant he was going against what they had all agreed.


    He felt it was necessary, though, and the proud man would accept whatever punishment came his way.


    As he watched the criminal sigh, Mr. Brown braced himself for a punch. He¡¯d never been punched before, so he made a prayer that it wouldn¡¯t hurt as much as he thought.


    The punch never came.


    Instead, the brutish body of the gangster merely slumped over, down on top of the butler, toppling him to the ground. There was a bloody hole on the back of the deceased gangster¡¯s neck, and standing right behind where he had been standing was Honey Fragat holding a long thin blade coated red.


    ¡°Old man, that wasn¡¯t what the script called for,¡± she said while wiping the knife off. ¡°Kinda badass, though.¡±


    ¡°O-oh, thank you for that. Do you mind helping to get the body off me?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Do I need to?¡±


    The man was heavy, and with the way Mr. Brown was squished under him, there weren¡¯t any good places to push.


    ¡°If you can...please¡­¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡±


    Instead of helping, Honey sat on top of the dead man¡¯s body. For some reason, people weren¡¯t paying much attention to them, rather, it was focused on the police coming to deal with the car crash.


    ¡°What do I get for it?¡±


    ***


    In the other direction, a man came to accost Lance just the same. But the detective was well trained, and as soon as he felt a hand touch him, he had pulled out a revolver.


    Lance turned and pressed it against the man¡¯s stomach.


    ¡°Shush, don¡¯t say anything,¡± Lance said, whispering into the gangster¡¯s ear. ¡°I have a license to make citizen¡¯s arrests, and I¡¯m placing you under arrest. Or, if you try to resist, I can shoot you. I have a license to do that as well. Pretty nifty, honestly. Now, if you want to get out of this one unscathed, just put on these handcuffs and lock yourself to that light pole over there. Make sense?¡±


    ¡°...yes¡­¡±


    Lance handed over the handcuffs and the man did as he was told. The detective had heard the car crash earlier, and it worried him.


    Before they had left, Lance saw Hanson arrive, which meant the plan was good.


    Essentially, their plan revolved around two steps.


    The main component was to deal with all of the gangsters holding hostages. For that, Hanson would go on his own to their base and deal with them. If he were to arrive at the drop-off before it happened, everyone would assume that things were going according to plan. Once that was confirmed, all they needed to do was refuse cooperation with the gangsters, which Honey and Lance would do.


    That meant everything was going well. All according to plan.


    But the crashing car was an anomaly. Sure, it could have been completely random, but it didn¡¯t feel random. There was something else to it.


    Lance hurried back to the scene just in time to watch the man named Arco vanish with both Vasquez children.


    ***


    ¡°What happened!?¡±


    Lenore dropped to his knees in confusion. He had been crying tears of joy earlier, but now they were tears of despair. What he had seen was devilcraft; something completely unnatural and impossible to describe. It made him sick to his stomach that his children were attacked by something like that.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, old man,¡± Hanson said. ¡°I¡¯ll chase after him.¡±


    ¡°Not on your own, you won¡¯t.¡±


    Lance strode over and dropped the briefcase full of cash onto the ground. From the opposite direction, a very smug Honey and dismayed Mr. Brown approached. Lastly, Luise rolled Lance¡¯s motorcycle over. The detective eyed her suspiciously.


    ¡°The cops are coming,¡± Honey said. ¡°Did something happen? I missed it.¡±


    ¡°Max and Max were kidnapped by Arco.¡±


    ¡°Wait, they¡¯re names are both Max? How did I never realize that¡­how could you give them both the same name?¡±


    But Lenore wasn¡¯t in much shape to answer such questions. He shook his head.


    ¡°Can you get my children back?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± both Lance and Hanson said at the same time. Slightly quieter, Honey said: ¡°If you pay us.¡±


    ¡°Then please, help me. I know I¡¯ve already asked for a lot, but I¡¯ll pay whatever you want; just help me get my children back.¡±


    ***


    Standing on the top of a government building, Arco dropped down to his knees and vomited out a stomach full of black fluid that splattered all over the ground. His vision was blurred, and when he rubbed his face, his arms came back covered in the grease. Not only had he just teleported with more weight than ever before, he had done it multiple times. The toll on his body was more intense than he could¡¯ve imagined.


    The pain was so overwhelming that he curled up into a ball and cried as his body bled fuel.


    Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkk.


    This was an intense pain. More so than he had ever felt. This was to the point where his pores were even leaking. How much fuel did he waste? How much more was left in his body?


    The stress was too much to be able to tell.


    Fuck.


    Eventually, his body stabilized and Arco sat up. Completely surrounding where he lay was a black outline that had stained the rooftop. Just slightly further on each side were the hostages, their chests moving up and down.


    There was something earlier that stood out to Arco. When he had knocked out Maxwell, the kid had tried to grab him. Rather than protecting his face, he chose to instead reach out and touch. There was meaning to that. When the kid touched him, something moved inside the blackness that was Arco¡¯s insides. As though it were being rearranged.


    Could it be possible?


    The only thing that came to Arco¡¯s mind was a devil¡¯s blessing. A devil¡¯s contract.


    That Who Presides Over Flesh.


    Arco found himself soon standing over the unconscious form of Maxwell Vasquez. Were they contracted to the same devil? If they were¡­


    ***


    A little known fact about daemons:


    Blessings are strong, but they become stronger upon devouring the essence of a daemonic brother. Of course, it required killing them and eating their hearts.


    ***


    He¡¯d be able to test it through the blood. The filth of a daemon was immortalized in their flesh. As someone who was forced into cannibalism years ago, Arco had no difficulty slicing Maxwell¡¯s wrist and bringing it up to his mouth to drink in the free flowing blood.


    Yes, there it was.


    The acidic taste of a daemon.

 Chapter 11: Clocks

    ¡°How the hell are we supposed to find him?¡±


    Currently, as Mr. Brown was helping Lenore to his feet, the four others had grouped. There wasn¡¯t much time, so discussion needed to move quickly.


    ¡°I saw him,¡± Luise said. ¡°After his first jump. It was on that roof.¡± She pointed to the top of the damaged restaurant. ¡°I can¡¯t remember exactly how his blessing worked, but I do remember after every time he used it, he spat out black goo. If we follow the trail of that, we should be able to figure out where he is, or at least roughly. Since I doubt he could travel without it.¡±


    ¡°If this is gonna get all acrobatic, then I¡¯m out,¡± Honey said, holding up a finger. ¡°Y¡¯all have fun.¡±


    ¡°No, hold on,¡± Hanson said. ¡°Honey, go check the dropoff spot. He¡¯s doing this for money, and once he gets it, he¡¯ll have no reason to keep the hostages alive.¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡±


    ¡°Cool,¡± Hanson said. Then he turned to Luise. ¡°Point the way.¡±


    As the two started hopping onto the side of the building and pulling themselves up, Lance sighed. He was standing next to Honey, who was looking at him with a pout.


    ¡°Huh? Shouldn¡¯t you hurry up?¡±


    ¡°I hate this part.¡±


    ¡°Yeah sure, but everyone else thinks it¡¯s funny,¡± Honey said, taking a step back. The detective had been working against the siblings for a while, though never face to face. Often they had conflicting interests, though. ¡°Come on! Good show! Show me...Nemean!¡±


    ¡°Screw you¡­¡± Lance said, taking off his hat and handing it to Honey. ¡°Keep this safe for me, if ya¡¯ don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°Sure, whatever,¡± she said, placing his oversized hat on her head.


    From his holster, Lance drew a large revolver and flicked off the safety. As Honey cheered, he flipped her off, then pressed the barrel to his own skull.


    Better get this over before the cops come and get freaked.


    ¡°Good morning, Ceryneian.¡±


    He blasted his own brains out.


    ***


    Like the Fragat siblings, Lance Gordon came from an Institute experiment, though his was far more intrusive in nature. It was a collaborative process, where eleven different children were trained in all manner of different things from birth. They each had a unique function, and regiments of training helped to facilitate and perfect those abilities.


    Then, their brains were extracted and codified.


    From there, the brains were all implanted into a single body, capable of regrowing themselves and shattering on command. The brains all had control of individual body processes, and upon taking control, would alter the main body¡¯s chemistry and physiology.


    This creation was called the Hercules Project.


    ***


    Lance¡¯s grey and pink matter showered Honey as her joy turned to annoyance.


    From the blasted remains of Lance¡¯s skull, small orbs encased in mucus pushed against each other until a single one rose above the others. The brain inside of the orb started to expand, over and over, until it was nearly the size of a regular brain, and the remaining orbs slowly crawled back down the brainstem. The man¡¯s skull started reforming, and his body started changing.


    Normally, Lance was somewhat built. Nothing incredible, but fit enough to have muscles peeking out from his clothes.


    But with this transformation, the placement of those muscles began to change. His upper body began to slump, and his legs, quad to calf, started to swell massively in size. They began to tear apart the pants he was wearing, and his bones began to reformat themselves into digitigrade limbs, his ankles rising and toes elongating. The sounds of cracking and warping were very audible, and the crowd that had gathered for the car crash were all now paying attention to the bizarre transformation sequence before them.


    When it was finished, Lance looked very different.


    His upper body was small and his arms curled in, holding his hands by his chest. His head was sunked down under his shoulders, and those shoulder blades extended over his head to create a small shield. His stomach was large, and from underneath it, the two massive legs looked like grasshoppers, with five long toes gripping hard enough to the asphalt to tear into it.


    This new form cracked it¡¯s toe-knuckles.


    ¡°Yo, Honey-baby,¡± Lance (Ceryneian form) said. ¡°Wanna gimme a kiss before I go?¡±


    ¡°Ehh? You look creepy as hell.¡±


    ¡°Nah, babe, I¡¯m lookin¡¯ goooood!¡±


    A side effect of the transformation was the complete change of personality. Ceryneian Lance was a cocky, childish stud despite his strange looks. All of the normal honor that Hesperides Lance had went out the window. He put one of his legs up against the wall, like an arm, in the way one would to corner a lady for flirtation.


    ¡°Come on~, don¡¯t lie, these legs lookin¡¯ juicy! And baby, these hips go bratatatat!¡±


    Honey smiled as her patience was tested.


    ¡°That would be great, but your underwear ripped off, and this form seems to be lacking good parts for ¡®bratatatat¡¯-ing, so sorry, not interested.¡±


    Her cutting words were enough to make Ceryneian Lance pause, and he looked away.


    ¡°Just keep my hat safe.¡±


    After that, he crouched and in a single leap made it to the top of the four story building.


    By that time, Luise and Hanson were already on Arco¡¯s trail. As Luise had said, black pools of goo were splattered down on the roof where Arco teleported, and as Hanson looked out across the rooftops, could see more. After that, it became a guessing game. With Lance¡¯s speed and Hanson¡¯s eyes, they were able to spot stain after stain as Arco travelled across the roofs of the city. His trail of black blood.


    After a few minutes, it became no longer necessary to chase after Arco¡¯s trail. They could see him standing in the distance, face to face with two other figures.


    The Vasquez siblings.


    ***


    --Earlier--


    As Arco sucked out Maxwell¡¯s blood, the young man woke. He felt horrible pain in his wrist, and without thinking swung his other hand and body out to strike the person on him. Because of his slow reactions from being concussed, Arco was easily able to hop backwards without being touched, though he stumbled before landing. He almost slipped on the black goo, which hadn¡¯t completely dried.


    ¡°Who...who the fuck are you!?¡± Maxwell shouted, covering his wrist. He sealed the veins, but did a poor job of it. He could no longer feel that hand. Perhaps the concussion was fucking with his ability? ¡°And what the fuck are you doing!?¡±


    Arco was quiet.


    Calculating.


    ¡°I¡¯m like you, man,¡± Arco said slowly. ¡°You made a deal with a devil, right? Who was it? Oriaxs? What did they offer you? I felt it when you touched me; you tried something...you tried to fuck with my body.¡±


    Maxwell swallowed. He glanced down at his sister, who was unconscious by this strange man¡¯s feet.


    ¡°You¡¯re not one of the kidnappers?¡±


    ¡°No, I think you have me mixed up with them,¡± Arco said. ¡°Is this your sister? We¡¯ve spent the past day together. I didn¡¯t kidnap her or anything. But please, answer my question. I need to know what you did to me.¡±


    ¡°...yes, I am contracted with a devil. Are you?¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± Arco said. ¡°You can call me Arco. Max called you Max...is that your name? You two have the same name?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, our dad is a piece of work, ain¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°Pretty cruel. I¡¯m contracted with Seir and Oriaxs. You see all the black stuff on the ground here? Those are my internal organs and bones. I need it to survive, but using my ability makes me spit it out, and I can only get it back by drinking blood, like a vampire. What about you?¡±


    There was a moment of silence.


    ¡°It lets me alter people¡¯s bodies that I touch,¡± Maxwell finally said. This person didn¡¯t seem bad, but something about him was off. If his concussion was gone, he could figure this out clearly. ¡°What were you doing to my wrist? Sucking blood?¡±


    ¡°I was,¡± Arco admitted. ¡°The other thing I can do with my ability is teleport. But every time I teleport, I lose more of my insides, and if I run out, I¡¯ll die. You crashed your car, and since you were Max¡¯s brother, I figured I should help you get out of there, That¡¯s why I teleported you.¡±


    Then¡­


    ¡°Then why did you knock me out? Why did you knock out Sis?¡±


    Arco bit his tongue. Much like Max, he was also slightly delirious from having lost so much essence. Now that he knew what Maxwell could do, he understood the dangers the kid possessed. A single touch could mean death, even without internal organs like Arco had. But on the other hand, this kid could be incredibly useful. If he could produce endless amounts of blood¡­


    ¡°I got scared,¡± Arco finally said. ¡°You called me a kidnapper and I didn¡¯t know what to do. Your sister said someone was after her, so I figured they were after you too.¡±


    ¡°Someone was after her?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I didn¡¯t pry too much into it, but she said she was on the run from someone, and that people were chasing her. That¡¯s why she needed to change her look. You see her hair is short? We got it cut earlier today.¡±


    Maxwell did see that. His sister was also wearing things she normally wouldn¡¯t. It almost looked like she could be someone else.


    He figured that she probably tried to run away from home. Then who did those gangsters kidnap? If this guy was telling the truth, then what was happening? Unable to think straight, Maxwell let out a held breath. He could confirm this if his sister woke up. If only there were some way of getting her up¡­


    A thought appeared in his mind.


    ¡°Hey, Arco,¡± Max started. ¡°I don¡¯t fully trust you, but I have a proposal. I don¡¯t know if there are kidnappers alive, but back when I crashed that car, I saw my dad. He was there to do an exchange. Did you know that?¡±The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Arco shook his head hesitantly.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to ask my sister,¡± Max continued. ¡°Walk away from her. Once she wakes up, I¡¯ll ask her questions to try and corroborate your stories. If they match, and she trusts you, then I will as well. But if not, or you try to do anything fishy, I¡¯ll turn you inside out and spill your melted guts by my feet.¡±


    Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.


    There wasn¡¯t any choice. Without any fuel in his body, there was nothing Arco could do. Even though he had a hostage right beside him, with this kid now knowing his major weakness, he couldn¡¯t fight back. I mean, all the kid needed to do was touch him. Suddenly, trying to act all friendly and convince him seemed idiotic.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Arco said, walking away from Maxine. He stood opposite her on the roof, diagonally from where Maxwell currently sat. ¡°I¡¯ll stay right here, man. But those guys might be coming, so you should hurry.¡±


    Maxwell didn¡¯t respond as he got up and walked to his sister. He checked her pulse.


    Good, she was alive.


    While it probably would have been better to try and fix her unconsciousness, Maxwell had no idea how to do so. With his own concussion, he wouldn¡¯t even be confident in that. There was a better idea in his brain.


    He held his limp hand over her face and transmuted the entire thing into liquid, which splashed down on her face like a bucket of water.


    Maxine gasped and woke up, trying to dry her face. As she did, Maxwell grabbed her.


    ¡°Sis! You okay?¡±


    ¡°Max?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Maxwell said. He kept an eye on Arco, who hadn¡¯t moved and was just grimacing. ¡°Sis, pay attention. You see Arco over there? Do you know him?¡±


    As she blinked away the bloody water that doused her face, she slowly nodded.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Maxine said. ¡°Arco, what happened?¡±


    ¡°I-¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± Maxwell said, cutting Arco off. ¡°Is there someone after you? Someone chasing you? That¡¯s what Arco said.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Maxine started. She looked at Arco, then Maxwell, then looked away. ¡°That¡¯s what I said, yes. Umm...Arco, I gotta tell you something...I¡¯m not exactly who I said I was¡­¡±


    Before she could say anything, Arco shook his head. A smile had formed on his face, because he finally saw the light. With this, she would help convince Maxwell, and then he¡¯d be able to fill up on blood. Then, so long as he got to the dropoff point, he could collect the money, and everything would be fine. This could all be over. He checked his watch.


    10:23.


    Plenty of time.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine, Max,¡± Arco said. ¡°I trust you, and I trust your reasons. But we really should get going, the people after us are more dangerous than you think. I¡¯ve met them before, and their acrobats are absolutely evil.¡±


    Maxine had no idea what to say to that, but Maxwell understood. He nodded and got up to stand by Arco and stuck out his handless arm.


    ¡°Got it,¡± Maxwell said. ¡°Drink away. I¡¯ll just make more and more blood, so you should be able to fill up.¡±


    Arco nodded and put his lips to Maxwell¡¯s stump as a slit appeared on it.


    Maxine was totally flustered at this.


    ¡°Uhhhhhhhhh what¡¯s going on?¡±


    But it wasn¡¯t just that. After a few seconds, as Maxwell stumbled back from having his blood drunk and Arco stood up, in the distance, Maxine saw something strange. Like a humanoid t-rex, some bizarre creature was hopping from building to building slowly getting closer. It crouched down for only a short moment before it happened.


    Shards of building blasted off in the opposite direction.


    After having just been refreshed, Arco wasn¡¯t ready to react.


    Ceryneian Lance appeared over their heads for a split second before zooming by. Soon after, two bodies crashed and rolled on the roof near the group. One was a tall female, lithe and with short hair. The other was a short man with a violent look and a knife in his hand.


    ¡°Yo, mistress,¡± Luise said, stretching her arms out. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be blunt, but you got poor taste in men.¡±


    ¡°Arco...you mother fucker¡­¡± Hanson said, cracking his knuckles and smiling cruelly. ¡°Why the fuck you gotta make this so complicated?¡±


    The two, having just appeared with quite an entrance, were frightening as the moonlight cast shadows around their faces. Even though normally those two wouldn¡¯t give off such an imposing aura, in this moment, to those who were watching, they did.


    The person most afraid was Arco.


    He was completely quiet as Maxine stepped towards her old maid.


    ¡°L-Luise? What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Didn¡¯t your bro tell you?¡± Luise said. ¡°We got kidnapped. Since the kidnappers thought I was you, they grabbed me instead. We got rid of them.¡±


    ¡°Oh, they did?¡± Maxwell asked, scratching his head with the hand that had just reformed. ¡°Does that mean you were being held prisoner?¡±


    ¡°Yep that was me.¡±


    ¡°So who is your friend?¡±


    ¡°Hanson?¡± Luise said, looking at him. ¡°My future husband.¡±


    At that, both siblings raised an eyebrow. To them, the conflict seemed to be over. According to Luise, who they trusted, the kidnappers had been dealt with. While the appearance of the two and their vanished t-rex friend had been shocking, it wasn¡¯t dangerous. But the battle between Hanson and Arco had only just begun. Their eyes were locked.


    Then, breaking the stalemate, Arco turned and poofed.


    When he reappeared a distance away, he thought he was safe.


    Until something struck him hard on the side, flinging him into a brick wall and crashing into an apartment.


    The thing that kicked him, a humanoid t-rex, stood with one foot in the air, smiling.


    ¡°Not getting away that easy, buddy,¡± Lance (Ceryneian form) said. ¡°I heard you can only teleport where you can see, so that means I just need to keep my eyes peeled.¡±


    A housewife had been cooking dinner when this happened, and she was standing in the corner of her kitchen completely silent as Arco stood. He spat out a black blob and wiped his nose.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got no fucking idea who you are man,¡± Arco said. ¡°But just let me go. I don¡¯t have a problem with you. Honestly, I don¡¯t really wanna mess with Luise or Hanson or any of the others, either. Whatever they told you about me, I just wanna leave it behind.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± Lance said. He nodded. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m still going to beat you up, though. You tried to extort someone, so I gotta teach you a lesson.¡±


    Arco¡¯s face darkened.


    He vanished, then appeared in front of Lance¡¯s face with a knife in hand. One he had taken from the cutting board in the kitchen, and he stabbed it into Lance¡¯s throat before being kicked away. While in the air, Arco spun and teleported himself down onto the roof. He spit out black ooze and more started flowing from his tear ducts and ears.


    Lance, on the other hand, put his hand to the bloody wound on his neck. It cut through an artery, and he was probably in trouble. Luckily, it wasn''t the destruction of his brain.


    He kicked off the wall he was standing on, virtually vanishing like Arco, until he stalled right behind the teleporter. He stomped his foot down, but it wasn¡¯t fast enough. Arco shifted himself to a different roof, and when Lance leapt to that roof, Arco teleported again. By that time, Arco spewed out more black goo and began to realize what their plan was. Burn him out of fuel. He needed to use a nearby pole to steady himself.


    The next time he saw Lance, he teleported.


    And appeared with a light pole stabbing directly through Lance¡¯s stomach. Yes, Arco had teleported along with an entire pole, forcing the fixture to appear in his enemy¡¯s body. It was a powerful move, but it had its consequences.


    Both men dropped at the same time, though Lance got caught between two buildings as the pole got wedged. As his consciousness started to fade, he pressed his revolver to his skull.


    ¡°Good morning, Hippolyta.¡±


    Arco crashed down bouncing from roof to roof and ended up barely surviving his fall by landing in a dumpster. As he lifted his head, fuel spilled from his body freely, and he felt his energy drop. But even though this was a ton of energy to burn at once, he was still fine, thanks to all the blood he drank before. So long as he didn¡¯t push it more.


    There was a gunshot from above, and Arco flinched.


    But no bullets came.


    After a few minutes went by, Arco got up. He was swaying back and forth, unable to keep himself focused, but that was fine. He fell backwards out of the dump.


    Ah.


    Laying on his back, he could see the moon, and there was someone silhouetted by it, slowly dropping down from the rooftops with a look of finality on their face.


    ***


    ¡°Wait, Luise, you know Arco?¡± Maxine asked as her old maid helped her down from the rooftop. ¡°Where from?¡±


    ¡°Ehhh~ it was a long time ago,¡± Luise replied. ¡°Back in those days, there were a group of us who worked together. Hanson and Honey were part of it too.¡±


    ¡°Hanson is the guy you¡¯re gonna get married to, but Honey is¡­? The t-rex flying thing?¡±


    ¡°Ha. Not exactly, but I¡¯ll tell her you said that.¡±


    ¡°Wait. That sounds like a bad thing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, back in those days, we were young. A bunch of teenage orphans with skills,¡± Luise started. ¡°We met each other in the slums, and we all sort of got along. I mean, each of us had pretty strong personalities, but at the very core, we needed money and food and shelter, so we decided to work together. Arco was one of us. And he was a pretty cool guy too, at the time. Really hated rich people and the nobility, so he was kinda an extremist.


    ¡°Of course, we all had things we hated, and since all of us were dirt poor, the wealthy were our biggest targets. Don¡¯t tell anyone, but I used to be a pretty good robber. I gave it all up for the normal working life, since it was dangerous, but I don¡¯t think Arco ever did. To him, working normally was never a possibility. You see, while all of us had pretty tragic backstories, his was probably the worst of us all.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see how much I can recall. Okay, basically, he was born on the black market. Quite literally, he was born as a product, and from his very birth, he was raised for a sole purpose. He was a child prostitute, and got sold around along with a group of other children to be played with. While he would never go into the specifics of it, he apparently escaped after one of the men who bought him had a heart attack during the middle of a session. After that, Arco lived on the streets like a regular urchin, until at some point, he made a deal with a devil and obtained his blessings.


    ¡°Eventually, he met up with us and we formed our little group. We ran around for quite some time, and not gonna lie, we had a name for ourselves in the underworld. Honest to god big shots, though I was pretty much just along for the ride. But unfortunately, good things like that don¡¯t seem to last. I don¡¯t know what came over him, but one night, after completing a really successful heist, he came into my room and attacked me. At the time I was pretty shaken up about it, but I got over it pretty quickly. I don¡¯t remember it super well, but he was caught doing it, and one of the other members took it really poorly.


    ¡°Jay Thoren was our leader. Like you guys, he was from a rich family, but they got destroyed when he was young and he was forced on the streets. Despite coming from a good home, he fit in along with the rest of us, and didn¡¯t seem any different. He was a good guy, and he was really good with people. After seeing what Arco did to me, Jay got more mad than he had ever been before, and he confronted Arco. I didn¡¯t watch them fight, but it didn¡¯t end well.


    ¡°When anyone got there, Jay was dead and Arco was standing over his body. He ran off before we could say anything, and we haven¡¯t talked to him since. After that, one of the other members, Bee, decided she was gonna leave too. Wanted to explore the wastelands of Russia, she said. Hanson and Honey decided to keep doing our thing, and I decided to grow up and get a real job. Or, well, a few real jobs. Bounce through ¡®em and all. But yeah, that¡¯s about it. In the end, I don¡¯t think he¡¯s such a bad guy, but I don¡¯t think he¡¯s one who¡¯ll ever be happy.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Hey fucker,¡± Hanson said, splashing down in a puddle of black ooze. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°God damnit, man,¡± Arco replied. ¡°Give me a fucking break. I just got done fighting for my life, and now you¡¯re here for a piece?¡±


    ¡°Ha. Don¡¯t try and play the ¡®I¡¯m wounded¡¯ card. I¡¯m not at 100% either,¡± Hanson said. He held up this still regenerating arm. He had his thumb and pointer finger, but otherwise his hand was a pink stump. ¡°That makes this a bit fair, no?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t we just reschedule this to when we¡¯re both good?¡±


    ¡°Not going to happen. I don¡¯t think I can ever be comfortable on these streets with you around. Not after seeing that.¡± Hanson pointed above at the regenerating fleshy blob that was Lance (Hippolyta form).


    ¡°Hey, if it makes you feel better, I didn¡¯t even know if that would work,¡± Arco said. ¡°Last ditch move.¡±


    ¡°Now that you do, it means anyone you want could die instantly. If you think I¡¯m going to let you live with that sort of power, you¡¯re fucking crazy. Scum like you can¡¯t be trusted.¡±


    Arco¡¯s smile faded.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to get near any of you. If I had known Max was one of your friends, I would have stayed away.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the problem. The problem is you¡¯re still in District 5.¡±


    ¡°You know I don¡¯t have papers to cross the border.¡±


    ¡°How the fuck do you need papers? Just go illegally. You¡¯re making excuses like I¡¯m supposed to feel sorry for you. You¡¯re a fucking rapist.¡±


    ¡°That¡­¡± Arco started. The word ¡®rapist¡¯ made his energy drain. ¡°Look...I didn¡¯t¡­¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t what!?¡± Hanson took a step forward. ¡°Didn¡¯t think? Didn¡¯t give a fuck? What kind of excuse are you gonna give me that precludes me busting your skull against the pavement?¡± He took another step forward.


    Arco didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°Well, truthfully, I couldn¡¯t care less what you say,¡± Hanson said. ¡°Everyone else seems to have forgiven you, but I can¡¯t. Maybe after your body is devoured by roaches I¡¯ll feel good. Until that point, there isn¡¯t a single thing you can do that would redeem yourself. You don¡¯t give a shit about anyone other than yourself, and the only reason this makes you feel bad is because you¡¯re gonna get killed ¡®cuz of it. Pathetic.¡±


    Hanson was now standing face to face with Arco, even though the former was quite a few centimeters shorter.


    ¡°But there¡¯s your fuckin¡¯ chance. If I¡¯m the only one who won¡¯t forgive you, all you need to do is kill me. Then all your troubles will wash away.¡±


    Arco took a slow step back, and halfway through it, Hanson shoved him back


    ¡°Are you gonna say something? Or do I get to kill you without hearing you beg for your life? I was expecting more out of you. If I¡¯m forced to drag this out any longer I¡¯ll start to feel like the bad guy, and if I become the bad guy, I¡¯m not just gonna kill you easy. I¡¯ll drag it out as long as possible, and make you beg for death. Because you told me what awaits you in hell, I¡¯ll happily send you there with a smile on my face. What was it? Half your body in the void of darkness and the other half used as a toilet? Seems fitting for you.¡±


    Hanson grabbed Arco by the throat and pinned him to a wall. The anger that once sat in the short man¡¯s eyes had simmered, but it was still rage. Instead of being energizing, now his revenge was just boring.


    ¡°Well, any last words?¡±


    ¡°No¡­¡± Arco said, coughing tar down after the pressure on his throat. He stared back at the fiery eyes as he closed his own. ¡°I couldn¡¯t ever tell her I was sorry...please, do it for me¡­¡±

 Epilogue 11.1: Siblicide

    --3 days after the accident--


    For the third day in a row, there was no employment at the office. The lines for unemployment and aid were too long, and by the time you got to the end, there were only scraps. Even trying to be a beggar was difficult; the best beggars monopolized the streets and shooed any new blood away.


    Even though life was so difficult, Dominic felt better about it. He liked to suffer along with everyone else, because the grind made him feel alive.


    Like every other normal person on the streets, he was trying to get better. It had unfortunately taken a near death experience (in his eyes) and the deaths of his brothers and everyone they knew to change him like that. Along with him was Lyle, the only other member of the Gordoli family who wasn¡¯t killed that night. He had been lucky enough to dislocate his hand and escape the handcuffs some bodyguard for the Vasquez family had.


    At first, Lyle had been dead set on trying to go back to a life of crime, but as he watched Dominic search for jobs day in and day out, the hardened criminal fell to the pressure.


    ¡°Another day of nothing but bust it seems,¡± Dominic said, leaning himself on the bridge. In the distance, ships were docking at the port. Not many. The river had some commerce, but not much. ¡°I wonder what kind of jobs they have outside of the city? Maybe like as a farmer.¡±


    ¡°A farmer?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I mean, I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve always thought it might be kinda nice, right? Like, you get to raise animals and stuff.¡±


    ¡°You a big fan of ¡®em, boss? Er, sorry, Dom?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I love animals.¡±


    ¡°Wish I could say the same then,¡± Lyle said. ¡°More of a people person, I am.¡±


    ¡°Jeesh. We¡¯re opposites then.¡±


    ¡°Guess you could say that. But honestly, I gotta say I don¡¯t mind it. Well, I¡¯d like to get a job sooner or later. Maybe giving haircuts.¡±


    ¡°A barber?¡±


    Lyle blushed.


    ¡°Yeah, I mean, that¡¯s what my pops did, and what his pops before him did,¡± Lyle explained. ¡°They were teaching me it before I joined the gang. Regret it now, obviously.¡±


    ¡°And is your family doing well?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, I ain¡¯t got no clue. They were healthy 15 years ago, but who knows about now?¡±


    ¡°In that case, I¡¯ve got an idea,¡± Dominic said, grinning. ¡°Make some money, then by a train ticket to wherever they live. After that, you can work for ¡®em. Now for myself, finding a job as a farmer is the most important thing.¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    ¡°You¡¯re really set on that farmer thing, huh?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Hey, do I know you?¡±


    As the two ex-gangsters chatted, a third voice appeared, calling out to Dominic. As the new man turned his head, his stomach dropped. Standing before him was the short man who killed the entirety of his gang alone. Even if the man let him go free, the sight of that little devil made him worry.


    ¡°Ah, yeah. Uh¡­¡±


    It was sort of hard to explain how they knew each other, but it didn¡¯t seem to matter. Very quickly the assassin understood what was going on.


    ¡°Oh! I remember! You were the last gangster! Ahhhh...sorry for killing all your friends. Are you another member of that gang? Yeah, sorry about that. I was doing a contract to bring back the kidnapped children, and I had to make sure with certainty that nobody would try to get revenge. Hope you can forgive me, eh?¡±


    The careless attitude for slaughter should have either made the two men angry or scared, but instead, three days later, it just felt casual. Having lost their ties to the gang life, other opportunities emerged; chances far less damning at the end.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Dominic said. ¡°I¡¯m sad that my brothers are dead...but it makes me feel better that this whole thing is over.¡±


    ¡°Same,¡± Lyle said. ¡°I hope the family is okay.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yeah, they¡¯re fine. In fact, after the whole ordeal finished, I think they actually got a lot closer. Funny how that works, no? Kinda makes me jealous, since the relationship with my sister sucks so much. Oh, how about this...to make up for what we did, I¡¯ll give you one free use of our services. That way, you can¡¯t ever say we didn¡¯t make up for it, yeah?¡±


    ¡°One free use?¡±


    That just seemed confusing for Dominic.


    ¡°Yeah, just once, for free, I¡¯ll do a job for ya. I mean, I¡¯m obviously pretty skilled.¡±


    ¡°Um, excuse my asking,¡± Lyle started. ¡°But just what is it exactly that you do?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Isn¡¯t it obvious?¡±


    Both the two ex-gangsters shook their heads.


    ¡°Oh, okay. That¡¯s kind of surprising, honestly. Weren¡¯t you two part of a gang? I can¡¯t imagine a group living here without knowing about us.¡±


    ¡°We only got to the city a little while ago,¡± Dominic said. ¡°And I guess I never really paid much attention to all the crime stuff. That was mostly my brothers.¡±


    ¡°Huh. Well, maybe you won¡¯t need my services, then. Are you still gonna keep your group together?¡±


    ¡°No, that idea is long gone. From today on, we¡¯re gonna be regular people.¡±


    The short hitman nodded his head slowly. It seemed like he was thinking about something, crossing his arms together and warping his face around. His eyes were screwed shut until he came to an answer to whatever question he was thinking.


    ¡°What are you doing now, then?¡±


    ¡°Trying to find jobs,¡± Lyle answered. ¡°Unsuccessfully, though. I guess we just started, but still. I didn¡¯t even realize the economy was so bad until now. Makes me feel sorry for all the people we extorted.¡±


    ¡°Ahh...I hadn¡¯t even thought about that,¡± Dominic said, a pained expression growing on his face. ¡°We should probably try to make amends for doing that, shouldn¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°Jesus christ, did you two suddenly become saints or something? Jumping from hardcore criminal gangster kidnappers to hard working boring citizens?¡±


    They couldn¡¯t answer.


    It did seem strange for their sudden jump, but it didn¡¯t feel bad. Rather, it was more like instead of this being some drastic change, the drastic change was running as a gang. This was their normal life, and everything earlier had been a detour.


    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re serious about trying to work hard, I¡¯ve actually got a perfect idea,¡± the short man said. He was now smiling. ¡°I happen to know a very good friend that is looking for staff they can easily take advantage of. In fact, one of your other friends is already being employed there. If you¡¯ve got time, we could head over now?¡±

 Epilogue 11.2: Parricide

    --7 days after the accident--


    Walking by the damaged building brought the strange memories back into Maxine¡¯s head. There were construction workers putting it back together, but even as they worked, inside, people were still eating. The two groups were chatting between each other, as though they were all friends.


    A little further on was the cafe she meant to go to. She grabbed a table outside and ordered her food. Soon enough, the person she was coming to meet sat down.


    ¡°Mistress, what¡¯s up?¡± Luise asked, stretching herself out. ¡°You already order?¡±


    Even though Luise was no longer employed by her father, the ex-maid still called Maxine ¡®mistress¡¯. Despite that, she didn¡¯t act anything like how she used to. She was completely casual, wearing a massive raincoat even though it wasn¡¯t raining, and tying her short hair up in a messy ponytail. She talked loudly and without hesitation, and her face was full of life. On one hand, it seemed very intimidating to Maxine, but on the other, it was nice seeing her real personality.


    Maxine answered her question.


    ¡°Cool, you get anything for me? Huh, no? Ahh, alright, I¡¯ll get something. So, how¡¯ve things been going since you got back? Everything settled?¡±


    Things had been quick to go back to how they were.


    Maxine¡¯s father had taken both his children home, and in the long drive home, the three were all completely silent. When she thought he would just let them go without saying anything, he stopped by the local graveyard. There, he shouted at them until his voice went raw, screaming about how they all would have died. When he was done, he forbade them from saying anything about this to anyone, especially their mother.


    After that, everyone acted normally. Maxwell stopped going out in the middle of the night to strange places, and started picking up anatomical textbooks, claiming that he was thinking about going back to school. Of course, Maxine noticed how strange he was acting. On that drive back home, the only one to notice he was missing an ear was Maxine, but it was back the next day. She didn¡¯t say anything about it, but the thought lingered in her mind. The image of Arco lasping blood from her brother¡¯s stump felt like a hallucination, even though everything else seemed so real.


    Oh, what ever happened to him?


    ¡°Who, Arco? I have no idea. Hanson said he killed him, but when we asked for proof, he said the body was completely destroyed. After killing him, the body burst into sludge. Truthfully, I¡¯m a little disappointed. Even after everything he did wrong, he was still one of us. Those kinds of bonds, the ones between brothers and sisters, can¡¯t be broken so easily. Ah, I¡¯m sure you would¡¯ve wanted to see him too.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    No, not really. He was a nice guy, even though it was all an act. Even though he was obviously using her for money, that day had still been one of the best days of Maxine¡¯s life. No amount of bad blood could change that; and she wouldn¡¯t forget the freedom she felt for as long as she lived. But he was perfect just as a nice memory.


    ¡°Huh? Wow, that sounds super mature. Oh, how''s it going with your arranged marriage and all?¡±


    Another net positive.


    After having gone through so much, Maxine would have been fine to resign herself to that fate. Because truthfully, even as she complained and tried to run away, she had already accepted it was her fate. And out of the billions of different fates that existed out there, it wasn¡¯t even close to being that bad. She was totally ready to accept it, having already gone out and earned her memories of freedom.


    But it never came. Upon learning the reason for why she left, Maxine¡¯s father decided to cancel the arrangement. She thought there was some other reason for it, but after stalking outside his study for a week and reading through all his correspondence, it seemed like his mind was made up. That wasn¡¯t to say the man she was supposed to marry was completely fine with it; he was going to be taking a train out to District 5 in an attempt to try and woo Maxine in person, but that at least felt normal enough.


    ¡°You have such a crazy life, don¡¯t you? Huh? What about me? Ehhh~ well, Hanson is still avoiding me, so that isn¡¯t much better. I¡¯m out of a job at the moment, but thanks to the cash you gave me for pretending to be you, I can at least live for a year or two without worry. Not sure exactly what I¡¯ll do in that time. Maybe I¡¯ll try to become a painter or something. I hear certain pieces of art can sell for thousands of francs. What? That¡¯s super rare and only goes to rich artists? Bah! In that case, you can just buy all my pieces and make me popular and famous, right?


    ¡°The siblings are both doing good. I don¡¯t think they were expecting your dad to just give them all the ransom money, and since they just finished a different job a few days ago, they¡¯re currently rolling in cash. Kinda crazy how much work they do, but I guess with those results, it makes sense. Oh, and then that Gordon fellow? With the big hat? I don¡¯t have much of an idea. He didn¡¯t take any money from your dad, right? I don¡¯t know much about him, but from what I hear from the underground, he¡¯s that sort of dude. Believes in justice and honor and all that sort of bullshit. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s just patting himself on the back, now that all this is over.¡±


    ***


    The two continued talking for another half hour. By that point, most of their conversation topics had started to get boring, and despite how much they should know each other, they didn¡¯t. Maxine and Luise were from two different worlds.


    Luise said farewell first, leaving barely enough cash to cover her side of the bill.


    It would probably be the last time they talked to each other. Both back to living in their own worlds after having spent a day swapped, even if those swapped days were a terrible picture of the whole.

 Epilogue 11.3: Amicicide

    --An hour after the accident--


    Damn, Arco thought as he limped back home. Why didn¡¯t he kill me? It¡¯d all be over if he did¡­


    Hanson, in the end, despite all of his rage and fury, couldn¡¯t kill his old friend. And Arco, ashamed of how even after everything, people wouldn¡¯t let him go, slouched away.


    ¡®I can¡¯t promise I¡¯ll kill you next time, but I can promise this.¡¯


    Even though Hanson couldn¡¯t kill Arco, it didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t maim him. Hanson gouged out one of Arco¡¯s eyes and tore off his right arm. While Arco thought wounds like that would be instant death for him, they turned out to be very minor. His arm bled for a bit, but then the oil inside his body closed off the wound.


    This was the type of punishment Arco could expect at the end. Half of his world had vanished; both from the missing eye and arm. He couldn¡¯t see or interact with it. Like Seir had promised, he would have nothing but oblivion, so this was his preview of that eternity.


    In a way, it was like Hanson half-killed him.


    The emptiness was just as awful as he¡¯d expect. Even walking was hard, though that might also have been because of how low on fuel he was. But if this was the type of suffering he deserved, what could he do about it?


    ¡°Yo.¡±


    Arco turned slowly to the familiar voice and blinked his one good eye.


    Standing in an alleyway, wearing a wide-brimmed hat far larger than her head, was Honey Fragat, holding an almost empty bottle of wine. She was smirking.


    ¡°I guess my lil¡¯ bro left you pretty messed up, huh?¡± Honey said, not moving. ¡°Totally thought he was gonna kill you. I just got here, so I didn¡¯t hear what happened. What¡¯d you say that made him change his mind?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Arco said. ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything. I couldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What, you just accepted death?¡±


    Arco sighed.


    ¡°Was there anything else I could do? Was there anything I could say that would convince Hanson in a state like that?¡±


    ¡°Ha. Probably not.¡±


    With his remaining arm, Arco made a shrugging gesture as if to say: ¡®see what I mean?¡¯


    ¡°Well, it seems like all your plans have crashed around you. That suitcase meant to be hostage money never found its way to your dumpster. The pampered rich girl gets to go home, literally without being any worse for wear. All the hard work you went ahead and did just ended up helping me get paid. I can¡¯t imagine you killed Mr. Hercules, though, so I guess I don¡¯t get to keep this cool hat, but otherwise, everything you did helped us out. So thanks.¡±


    ¡°You want me to say you¡¯re welcome or something?¡±


    ¡°Nah, nothing like that,¡± Honey said. She tipped the hat slightly and tossed her bottle aside. ¡°Did Hanson tell you to leave the city again?¡±


    ¡°He said the next time he saw me it¡¯d be my other eye.¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s some powerful sadism, but it sounds about right. In response to that, what do you plan on doing?¡±


    ¡­


    He didn¡¯t know.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll head north. Check out District 8. I hear there¡¯s plenty of work for scumbags like me up there.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Are you truly a scumbag now?¡±


    Arco flinched.


    There were memories hidden deep within, shared only between Honey and himself that he never wanted to let out. He remembered their conversation, long ago, and the horrible thing they¡¯d done. What couldn¡¯t be let out.


    ¡°I thought you¡¯d never stoop that low,¡± Honey said. ¡°You didn¡¯t do anything bad to that poor rich girl we don¡¯t know about, did you?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then why don¡¯t you come out with the truth? Nobody would believe you, obviously, but if I backed you up, then all your problems would be solved, right?¡±


    Honey was living proof that devils existed in the real world. A memory floated into Arco¡¯s mind.


    ***


    ¡°What the fuck are you doing!?¡±


    Standing next to Luise¡¯s unconscious body was Jay. He looked like a cornered animal.


    If everything before was Arco¡¯s shattered life, this just destroyed it ever further.


    ***


    It was never him. One night, Jay tricked Arco into giving Luise some drugs, and after that, Jay was the one who attacked her. But out of the entire group, he was the only one without a dark past. Without a dark future. Arco killed him. Murdered his friend like a dog. At that time, Honey was the first to show up, and even though it looked terrible, she realized what happened.


    That wasn¡¯t the first time it had ever happened. Jay was a predator, and he gave Honey a majority of his share of their heist rewards to help him confuse women and have his way with them.


    Of course, going after one of their own was a step too far.


    But only she knew. To Hanson, Bee, and Luise, Jay was a fantastic guy who could do no wrong. He was strong and brave, and even though he was from a rich family and a different social class, he gave them all inspiration. With how much rancor the group would have towards the elite without him, he made it possible for this group of destitute orphans to adapt and survive in the real world. If he didn¡¯t exist to balance the group out, they would have become terrorists, rather than regular criminals, and they would have all been killed. His mere existence was the only reason they survived.


    But now, he was dead.


    Because of the drugs, Luise wouldn¡¯t remember what happened. The only people to see it were Arco and Jay, but Jay was dead. And nobody knew about Jay¡¯s true nature except Honey.


    The deal with the devil.


    After Honey explained, Arco knew he had no choice. He would take the blame for what happened, and he would run away from the group. There wasn¡¯t any evidence, except for the drugged drink, and people had seen Arco give it to Luise. He was a scapegoat, but if he did so, then his friends wouldn¡¯t turn rotten. It was far too late for someone like Arco, though. From his very core, he knew that the elite were evil. While Jay had given him a glimmer of hope, it had all been dashed away at that moment. There was no longer any happiness in his future, from that point on.


    But if he fell on the sword, it didn¡¯t need to be that way for everyone.


    Truth be told, Arco had been in love with Jay at that time. It was unrequited and twisted in its own way, but to Arco, Jay was the type of person who was truly good. An example of everything respectful and admirable in a human being. Even if all he could do was follow Jay around and serve him as a second in command, he would do it and be proud. But it was all wrong. Jay glowed, but only because he knew how. It was a fake light, meant to distract the filthiest scum from the dirtiest corners into doing what they wanted.


    Jay knew how people worked, and he knew how to control them. That was how he betrayed Arco¡¯s trust and forced him into doing something horrific. Forced him to dirty his soul.


    Just like the people who sold him in his youth.


    He needed to make things right.


    ***


    So he did what Honey suggested. He begged for his life and ran. She spun the story, and told him her plans. Ultimately, in the end, she could see a light. After enough time went by, people would forget and forgive. She had the ability to release pheromones and spores in the air that altered people¡¯s mental state, and by doing so, she could change their opinions over time.


    Then, he could come out and tell them the truth. Or, if that didn¡¯t seem like a good option, he could come out and beg for forgiveness. To her, it was a flawless plan.


    This was just a stumble on the road.


    ***


    ¡°No,¡± Arco said, shaking his head. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Are you gonna tell me why? Or are you gonna keep it to yourself, and keep brooding, like usual?¡±


    Arco didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,¡± Honey said, stretching out and yawning. She started to walk over to where Lance was recovering. ¡°Enjoy District 8, and congrats on surviving. None of us actually want you to die, even if you think you¡¯re scum.¡±


    And once again, as it should be, Arco was alone.