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The Terminating Spark
Ch. 0, Pt. 2: The servant, the mercenary and the executioner

Ch. 0, Pt. 2: The servant, the mercenary and the executioner

The marking on the wall indicated it was the eighth floor, while cables stretched across the floor, connected to construction equipment. Two individuals stood close to each other, partially hidden by the dim lighting.

The first was a slender young adult, good-looking, with fair skin and blue eyes. His blonde hair was neatly trimmed, with a few strands falling over his face. He wore designer clothes and golden accessories, rubbing the wedding ring on his finger incessantly.

The second was older, with tan skin marked by scars and tattoos of religious symbols. His head was shaved, and he had a neatly trimmed goatee. He wore loose, comfortable clothing: a tight white t-shirt, baggy camouflage pants, black boots, and a silver crucifix.

The slender man tapped the sole of his elegant shoe restlessly, checking his gold watch, which seemed to show a few minutes to one in the morning. The dim lighting, composed of construction lamps, made it hard to see clearly.

– Why this place? – the slender man muttered, adjusting his tie as if it were too tight. – It was always high-class places, and now this...

The hands of his watch advanced incessantly as his eyes tried to make sense of it.

– Día de los Muertos, – he said, shaking his head impatiently. – Why does that influence anything?

– The day when the worlds connect; the veil is so thin that you can hear the whispers of death, and if you falter... – said the man with the goatee, who had a heavy Spanish accent, keeping his arms crossed. – She will take you easily.

– That's just stupidity, cheap superstition. – the slender man said, disgusted as he looked away. – We’re only here because this celebration is convenient for the meeting.

– Then why are you acting this way? Don’t you trust your contractors?

– Of course I don’t trust them, but life is like a chess game. – the slender man replied arrogantly. – And I know I’m an important piece, not just a replaceable pawn.

The man with the goatee glanced over his shoulder, observing the constant tapping of the elegant shoe.

– You don’t seem so sure of your answer boludo. – the response came with a slight, restrained laugh.

– And what do you know about me? – The slender man curled his lips and raised his chin. – And what did you say? Didn’t anyone teach you that in our country, you should speak our language?

The man with the goatee turned and stepped closer, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder.

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– Designer clothes... Expensive jewelry... and fear... – he said with a brief smile on his face. – I know enough.

He laughed, giving a light slap on the slender man’s shoulder, causing him to lose his balance briefly. The slender man widened his eyes, then lowered his head, massaging his struck shoulder as the man in front of him turned his back.

– What do you think? Could something bad happen?

– My experience says meetings like this end with people dead.

– You must only deal with gangs. – the slender man replied quickly, tensing as he kept his hand on his shoulder. – Things are different in my world than in yours.

– Boludo, we live in the same world; money is green, and blood is red. – the bodyguard’s smile, cast over his shoulder, seemed one of satisfaction. – Relax, whitey, because I always get both by the end of the night.

Williams found himself speechless for a moment, and a slight breeze entered through the unfinished windows, carrying the almost metallic scent and taste of the construction site.

– If something happens, remember to protect me at all costs.

Moments later, slow footsteps echoed from the direction of the stairs. The slender man froze completely, taking a deep breath and staying focused. Then, from the darkness, a figure with black eyes began to emerge, revealed by the dim lighting.

– Good evening, Mr. Williams. – the newly arrived man greeted the slender man with a friendly smile.

– Koji, you finally arrived. – Williams, the slender man, greeted, nodding briefly and positioning himself next to his bodyguard. – Good evening.

Koji, the newcomer, coldly observed the surroundings until his eyes met the bodyguard’s.

– Could you inform me what this urgent matter is? It's unusual for you to set up a meeting like this, especially in a place like this. – Williams asked seriously.

Koji narrowed his eyes at the question, but the smile never left his face.

– I remember telling you to come alone. Could you explain who this guy is? – Koji asked calmly, eyeing the bodyguard.

– There was never any need for me to visit Freedom Valley. But I know enough about this district, so I decided to hire a private security guard.

Koji slowly moved his hand behind him as Williams spoke. The bodyguard, noticing the movement, carefully watched the man, freeing his arms and clenching his fists.

Both Koji and the bodyguard stared at each other with similar expressions: a challenging smile. Then, slowly, Koji pulled out a cigarette pack from his back pocket, took one out, lit it, and briefly smoked.

– I see, but why this guy? He looks more like a thug than a bodyguard. – Koji inquired, putting away the used items. – Surely, there are more efficient services.

– You shouldn’t involve organizations for just an emergency conversation; after all, they tend to track those who contact their services. – Williams replied, maintaining eye contact with Koji. – So, I figured someone local, just muscle, would be ideal for this situation.

The cigarette began to release ash, and the friendly man's smile slowly faded, replaced by a completely serious expression.

– I understand your point, – Slowly, he took a drag from his cigarette, adopting a hateful expression, almost like another person. – but how about this bastard stops staring at me like that!

Williams swallowed hard at the change in Koji’s tone, but he kept his posture, looking at his hired hand and nodding to the side. The bodyguard smiled mockingly and stepped away from the two, keeping a certain distance.

– Finally, civilized people can talk. – Koji responded with a different kind of smile, one devoid of sympathy.

With a touch, he flicked the ash to the floor, mixing with the dust of the place.