Life is good, time to write, I plan to make something out of this book, so for real now there will be constant updates.
The room was lit poorly with only a single dim light in the ceiling, and in a chaotic state, with chairs, drugs, guns and money strewn about it in a seemingly random manner. The sharp cracks of gunfire could be heard from far away, hardly audible through the sturdy and thick concrete walls of the bunker.
In the center of the room, was a sprawling mess of blood and flesh, 3 chunks could be vaguely identified as human, having the same basic shape, with the exception of a few differences. They were all missing certain ligaments, be they arms or legs, and all of their skulls were deformed in a similar manner, caved inwards due to a large blunt force.
Standing above this pile of bodies was a tall and burly man, with a large rifle in his hands. The stock of this rifle was covered red, with faint specks of pink interspersed among the red liquid. The man’s eyes were covered in sunglasses despite the dim lighting of the room, and in his mouth was a lit cigar that was halfway gone, leaving only a few inches between its smoldering tip and his mouth. He took a deep breath through it, then exhaled a large cloud of smoke into the dark room. After staring at the ceiling for a moment, he held his rifle away from his body and pulled out a white handkerchief, which he then used to wipe off the crimson liquid that was threatening to drop down onto his pristine black suit.
He cradled the rifle as if it were a newborn child, gently stroking the stock in a calm and meticulous manner, not proceeding on until the section he was working on was free of blood and brain matter.
For several minutes, he sat there in the dark room, along but for the corpses at his feet, their faces still showing expressions of shock and horror as their lifeless eyes now watched him wipe their blood from his gun with the utmost care.
The sounds of gunfire outside had dwindled to a shot every dozen seconds or so, as the rest of the defenders were hunted down and put to death summarily by his crew that was working outside.
He paused from his work, pulling one of his dark gloves off and gently running his hand along the once sullied part of the gun. Satisfied at the lack of blood and brains he put his glove back on, before shouldering the gun once more and exiting the concrete bunker. As he walked he always kept a single hand on the gun, keeping it steady and pressed firmly against his body.
After ascending three flights of stairs, once more the door he had entered from was before him. It was large, nearly ten feet tall, appearing to be the entrance to a vault of some sort, having metallic inlays on its border and a large locking mechanism in the center. All of that was for naught however, as the door was blown off of its hinges and warped beyond use, its outside battered burned and scarred.
He stepped out into the chilled and salty night air, taking another long hit from his now spent cigar. He took it out of his mouth with his free hand, the one not holding his rifle. Instantly there was a man next to him with a case in his hands. He opened the case with care, taking the spent cigar from the man in the suit and placing it gently into the case.
??? : “Underboss King, the operation completed without difficulty. Three men injured, one dead. We captured twelve triad members, your commands?”
King turned his head up towards the sky, a calm smile on his face as he enjoyed the night air. He exhaled the breath he had been savoring this entire time, leaving a large cloud of smoke floating through the now calm night. Turning to face the man who had asked the question.
Behind the man, detained at gunpoint were a dozen Asian men, whose hands were behind their heads. They were speaking in Chinese, some cowering and asking to live, others cursing out King in his men, others were just silent.
King : “Kill them all except 3, the weakest three…”
He then turned back to the man who had taken his cigar as gunfire burst out behind him and bodies hit the ground.
King : “John, that safe house had well over a million in cash and several shipments of guns that they weren't supposed to have, track down where it came from and who is lending them aid…”
King’s personal aide, John, gave a bow, as he ordered several men to enter the safe house.
King turned back around, seeing three sniveling triad members that were on the ground pleading for their lives.
He approached one, kicking him in the shoulder and pushing him down onto the ground. He then spoke in flawless Chinese to his new prisoners.
King : “To go against Vargo is to seek death. You and your bosses have been very bold recently. Who is backing you?”
The Chinese man was nearly pissing himself as he sputtered different syllables that were not coherent in any way at all.
King frowned, pulling out a pistol and ending the man’s suffering right then and there, before holstering it again and squatting before the other two.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
King : “When I ask a question, you answer me… Understand?”
One of them spoke a rather enthusiastic and terrified response as the other one nodded vehemently. King glanced at the one that nodded, pulling out his gun and shooting him in the forehead in a flurry of motion. Before the body had even hit the floor his gun was holstered again. He turned to look at the sniveling mess of his last prisoner, reaching down with a single hand, and after taking off the black glove he drew the man up to eye level.
King : “Now, I killed him because I wanted an answer, not a nod. Will you give me the answers to the questions that I ask?”
The Chinese man was scared nearly shitless, as a puddle formed beneath him and a wet spot formed on his pants. Despite this however, he still responded promptly, repeating a pitiful “yes” over and over again.
King : “Good… Now, I might as well tell you this now, but…”
He tightened his grip on the man’s throat causing the man to start to choke. The Chinese man’s eyes grew wide as King drew him closer and closer to his face. When their noses were about to touch King stopped bringing him forwards and then lifted his hand away from his rifle where it had been this whole time.
Using this hand he lifted his sunglasses, revealing two pure white irises, the color of fresh snow. These eyes stared back at the Chinese man with unblinking intensity, and something about them caused him some sort of great primal fear.
King : “You can’t lie to a blind man… So don’t try, or you will end up like those people behind you. Understand?”
The Chinese man hurriedly agreed, as he had been ever since the interrogation started.
King : “Where are the weapons in there from?”
Chinese man : “T-t-t-the Spics! Th-they gave them to us, told us to--- GAH hhaaauuggg grraaa”
King tightened his grip unconsciously, as his mind was overcome with rage. There was an audible snap as the chinese man’s neck broke under King’s grip.
In a rage King threw the now limp body towards a shipping container that was off to the side of the area. The body visibly dented the metal container, leaving a blemish on its corrugated walls, as the body slumped to the floor, its limbs bent in strange directions.
King took his glove out of his pocket and put it back on his hand. He then turned towards his men, who had started to stack the triad bodies and move various crates around.
King : “Find out if he is correct, if he is we have a serious problem on our hands…”
The men answered him, then went back to what they were doing, with the exception of several people who had taken out phones and started up conversations with important contacts.
John’s phone rang at this time, and after a brief exchange of greetings he handed the phone over to King.
John : “Underboss, it's for you…”
King : “Ya?”
The voice that responded to him was one that he knew well, it was bland and professional, normally getting straight to the point and then ending a conversation. With King however, she attempted to speak respectfully and avoided broaching the main topics of their conversations in order to not appear rude.
??? : “Good morning King, or is it good night because you are in China?”
King : “Cut the crap Naomi, either tell me what it is, or have Tsuki do it… I am busy winning a war here…”
The woman on the other end changed, a new feminine voice came from the other side of the line on que, carrying over its gentle and carefree nature through the digitization and rematerialization of her voice, yet it still managed to retain its strict undertone.
Tsuki : “That wasn’t very nice King, poor Naomi might take that to heart.”
King : “Woman, get to the point already, I have no time for your games…”
Tsuki : “Oh but I think you do, or at least, you will make time for this. I have someone I need to kill, but due to certain “matters” I am unable to divert my entire attention to it, would you be a good underboss and help your boss’s wife out?”
King : “Ha, you aren’t his wife, not yet…”
From the other side of the line came an eerie laugh, seething with malice and livid with anger, yet surprisingly calm at the same time. Something about it set his spine to shivering. Despite the distance between the two speakers he felt as if she was directly behind him with a knife to his throat.
Tsuki : “fufufufu… You as well? It appears that I must do some housekeeping… Alright then, play soldier with your boy’s group and let the women hunt down those who wish to harm my hubby… Just remember today…”
The other side hung up the call after leaving that message, and he handed the phone back to his aid, his hand still shaking a bit from her last words. Not many things could put fear into his heart, but that woman was most certainly one of them.
He gave a massive sigh at whatever trouble he had just involved himself in, and then put it past him as he resumed his command of his crew.