The alley smelled like piss, metal, and blood.

Anthony stepped out of the car, adjusting the cuffs of his white suit as if he were walking into a five-star restaurant instead of the filth-covered backstreets of the city. He could hear muffled groans from ahead—someone was already getting worked over.

Nine walked beside him, hands still in his coat pockets, casual as ever.

"Who are we visiting?" Anthony asked, his voice light.

Nine nodded toward the building ahead. A storage facility. Unmarked, forgotten, but very much in use. "A guy who thought he could run product through my city without cutting me in."

Anthony clicked his tongue. "Amateur mistake."

Nine smirked. "That’s what I thought."

They entered through a side door, the dim yellow lights flickering overhead. Inside, two men stood over a third guy tied to a chair. His face was already swollen, his lip split, and his breaths came in ragged gasps.

Nine didn’t acknowledge the other two men immediately. He just walked over to the beaten man and crouched in front of him.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The guy tried to lift his head, blinking through swollen eyes. "Number Nine…" he rasped.

Nine tilted his head. "You know, I get tired of these conversations." He sighed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "You step on my business. I give you a chance to fix it. You ignore me. And now we’re here."

He exhaled a slow stream of smoke. "Boring, isn’t it?"

Anthony chuckled.

Nine turned to him. "You want excitement, right? Go ahead."

Anthony blinked. "Go ahead and…?"

Nine gestured to the tied-up man, standing up. "He stole from me. He lied. You wanted in on this world, kid? Let’s see what you do with it."

Anthony looked at the man in the chair, then at Nine.

Then he grinned.

The two enforcers in the room exchanged glances, unsure of what to expect.

Anthony stepped forward, crouching down in front of the man. He looked at him the same way a cat looks at an injured bird—curious, but detached.

"Tell me," Anthony said, his voice almost gentle. "Was it worth it?"

The man swallowed, his breath shaky. "I—I didn’t think—"

Anthony cut him off with a laugh. "That’s the problem, my friend. You didn’t think."

Then, in one smooth motion, he grabbed the guy’s broken fingers and snapped another one.

The man screamed.

Anthony tilted his head, studying him. "That one was free. The next one’s gonna cost you."

Nine watched him carefully.

This wasn’t some kid playing gangster.

Anthony was enjoying this.

"Please," the man gasped. "I—I can get you the money—"

Anthony smiled. "Oh, I know. That’s the fun part."

Another snap.

Another scream.

Nine took another drag of his cigarette.

Anthony’s white suit remained perfectly clean.

Yeah.

This kid was going to be interesting.