The outskirts of the night city flew past us. All these lamps, bulbs, reflectors just flashed by, like bursts of light, in front of our eyes. If you didn't focus your gaze, they turned into long, bright lines streaking away behind us. And in the background, the illuminated city towered high. Tall skyscrapers, stretching into the sky and lighting it up so much that you could forget about the stars.

Khanksk was one of the largest cities in Manchuria, so this spectacle was not surprising.

It was quiet, peaceful, and serene. The wheels monotonously rustled somewhere outside, and the engine droned as if trying to lull us to sleep.

Syringa wasn't in a hurry to ask anything after Malu's response, quietly driving the car.

"We'll stop by Arrow first. You'll meet him there. It will be useful. And don't mention who your father is unless you want a bullet," he added.

"And how do you know who my Dad is?" I asked quietly.

"Dad... did you run away from kindergarten?" Malu sighed. "It's my job to know everything about the team. And if for me it's not a crime - you can't choose your ancestors - Arrow's finger on the trigger might twitch, so don't even mention him."

"Will we get paid?"

"No, fuck, they'll just bang us in the ass. Box, hold your stupid questions."

Actually, I phrased it wrong. I wanted to ask if we would get paid there or later. But looking at the restless Malu, I didn't want to ask anything again, nor did I want to deal with him. It felt like he could snap at any second and put a bullet in my forehead. This was unnerving and made me fear him. It was comforting to know that this was not forever.

Soon, we turned into industrial territories, where the road twisted between complexes, some of which, even at night, did not stop working. They roared, trucks, excavators, and other work equipment drove around, and yellowish light poured from the workshop windows. It was like a small town or world where technology reigned, and factories worked forever.

"Alright, Syringa, get rid of the car. We'll drive to Arrow and get the money. We'll meet back at the place."

"Yeah. Just don't drink up my share on the way," she scowled again.

"Then hurry up. Alright, guys, I'm taking the wheel. And we leave the coveralls here, just make sure you've taken everything out of them."

He stuffed his gun into the waistband of his pants and covered it with his shirt. Alex again got tangled in his clothes, barely avoiding a fall, and I was already getting into the car, having tossed the coveralls into the cab of the pest control van. From there, we headed back into the city.

"Is the hatchback ours, or..."

"Or stolen?" Alex finished. It seemed his good mood was returning, albeit slowly, like a car stuck in the mud. "No, it's ours. Well, it's Syringa's, to make it easier to get around. But Arrow pays for the gas for these jobs."

"So, you're fully working for the clan?"

"Almost," Malu replied. The headlights illuminated the workshops of idle industrial complexes, and as the car moved, they snatched uniform buildings, pillars, and equipment from the darkness, like in some post-apocalyptic movie. "You know we work for the Hassa clan, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, we do jobs for them, but we're not part of them."

"Freelancers," I tried to find a synonym for what he had said.

"Almost," Malu nodded. "Except we don't work for other clans. So, either for them or just for ourselves. But we're working for them more and more often because they pay, and they often have work."

"And working for yourselves… what kind of work is that?"

"Raids, when there's an opportunity," he briefly explained. At that moment, the car swayed smoothly, and we drove onto the road leading to the residential areas. "Only on those places that the clans don't answer for. Everyone knows each other, and if we raid a drug den, they will surely understand who did it. Or their store. So we raided neutral points that belonged to no one."

I thought for a bit and answered myself.

"Banks and cash transport cars?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

"Do you pay the clan from the raid's money?" I asked.

"Only if they provided us with the info. And if there are enough people to take it on. Like now. It's not so great to go on a job with just the three of us."

"But I've never participated in such an event. And I've never shot a gun."

"Everyone starts somewhere," Malu shrugged. "The problem is with people. With decent people. Assholes, snitches, wimps, psychos, freaks. In short, it's a mess. We need the right guys who understand what's allowed and what's not. The last one was good, everything was great, even had experience, but he thought he ran the joint and kept crossing lines like we owed him."

"In short, don't shit yourself," Alex turned around and slapped my knee. "Don't act dumb and don't shit yourself, then everything will be tip-top."

"And you've already been on this kind of job?" I asked.

"Now, that's a secret," he winked, thereby giving me an unequivocal answer.

We drove for about ten more minutes until we stopped on one of the streets opposite some bar located in a multi-story building. This very "conspicuous" establishment was in a very "conspicuous" highrise. However, the irony was that most of the buildings on this street were like that. The local clan's meeting point somehow managed to blend in and not stand out, except for the better-than-average cars nearby.

We parked a little further from them and turned off the engine. It got pretty quiet.

"Alright, Box, listen to me very closely right now. Don't even speak until you're asked. Don't even fart, got it?"

"Yes."

"Great. Arrow is a bit nervous and fucked up, like all of us here. Let's go."

The bar inside was quite a gray establishment, immersed in semi-darkness, yet relatively cozy. Of course, no one wants to sit in some shit hole. However, the floor, lined with stone slabs as if stolen from some old department store, and the fifty-watt bulbs spoiled the view. Everything else was even a little better than not bad.

The crowd in here wasn't particularly diverse. There were some ladies of the night in a corner with criminals who looked as though they had just spent some time behind bars. Not far from them were men with short haircuts or completely bald, mostly dressed in black or dark jackets. There was something criminal, dangerous in their faces. If I had met such men on the street, I would most likely be able to tell their occupation.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

There was also a more boisterous group that was celebrating something. They stood out from the rest primarily because they were dressed ordinarily, casually, if you could say so. Just regular men, some office workers who came to have fun after a hard day.

But everyone perfectly understands that such people wouldn't come here.

When we entered, nobody even looked at us. Only Malu nodded to the bartender, who returned the nod welcomingly, and immediately headed to the table where people in casual clothes were sitting. He approached, stopped, without addressing anyone, waited until one of the guys finished telling something, and then greeted them.

They all responded to him quite amiably, as if he were one of their best friends. I don't know what exactly, but I didn't like it. Either they welcomed him too joyously, which didn't match Malu's mood, or understanding their line of work didn't allow me to relax.

"And who's next to you? Will you introduce the newbie?" one of the seated men nodded towards me.

"This is Box, a new companion."

"Let's hope he's not like that Gerk," one of the men smirked.

Another said:

"And why Box, why not Barrel?" At this, everyone burst into laughter.

Sure, laughing at my weight, that's probably so funny. I didn't take offense, no, it just showed their very low average group IQ. Except for one, who immediately caught my eye because of this.

This man was the only one who smiled restrained. He was the one who addressed our business to Malu. Quite a large man, probably a little taller than me. His shoulder width didn't yield to mine, except that, unlike me - the obese one - his width was due to his muscles, not fat. However, his square face, sharp features, and slight squint made his appearance unpleasantly aggressive. Even despite the smile.

"Well, Malu, successful?"

"Yes, Arrow," Malu raised a folder in front of him. "Blackmail material."

"Excellent, excellent... Okay, guys," he slowly, as if with difficulty, got up from the table. "I'll be back soon, just need to settle with him. Let's go, Malu."

We followed him, went behind the bar, where we turned somewhere down into a basement. There was a surprisingly well-renovated corridor here, with several doors leading off it. One of them, made of iron, stood out in particular, and that's where we went.

"Alright, hand it over," Arrow extended his hand, and Malu obediently passed the folder.

"Only I want to talk about this... blackmail, Arrow."

"Should that concern you?" he asked, almost genuinely surprised.

"No. But you should look at the contents," he grimaced.

Arrow glanced at him with a suspicious gaze for a moment or two, then delved into the folder, pulled out one of the envelopes, took out the photos, and began flipping through them. Unlike us, shocked to our core, he merely grimaced in disgust.

"And the full version of all this is on the disks. Quite detailed, too," Malu nodded to the folder.

"I see..." he muttered. At one photograph, Arrow involuntarily pulled his head back, squinting. "So what?"

"So what? What do you mean?"

"Well, you flew in here like someone's holding a gun to your head. Sure, photos, I see what's on them. What's next?"

"Fuck..." Malu, as I understand it, expected a different reaction. I even know what he wanted to hear, and I understand why he won't hear it. Because we weren't sent for that sick fuck. We were sent for the blackmail on him. "Arrow, there... There... fuck... Just look at the photos!"

"Well, I'm looking. Sure, it's fucked up, what can I say, some of it gets under your skin, but what's next?"

"He... He did that to girls! This is fucked up, this isn't just rape! This... this... how did you put it, Box..."

"Snuff film," I suggested impassively.

"Yes, a snuff film!"

"Do you even know what a snuff film is?" Arrow cast a sideways glance at him.

"Damn, fuck, what's the difference! This sicko has chopped up six people, judging by our findings!"

"And what are you suggesting?"

"Give me the order, and I'll take him out. I'll fucking pull his balls over his head and choke him. Fuck, I'll carve him up like a pig. Or better yet, turn him over to the police!"

Hearing about the police from Malu was strange. Murder - yes, but turning someone in to the police... Not just me, but even Arrow looked at him in surprise, detaching himself from the photos.

"Why would I do that?" he asked, slightly dumbfounded.

"So that the inmates fucking rot him in jail! Just death won't be enough! No, did you see?! Did you see, fuck, this?! Fuck, Arrow, did you look at the photos?!"

"Well, I looked, yeah, it's terrible, but what do you want from me? I don't get it. Why did you suddenly go off the rails?" Now, even Arrow was puzzled by Malu's sudden reaction. "Did you sniff something by any chance?"

"No! But I want to send him to hell! This isn't the kind of fucked up you encounter on the street!"

"You don't know what you can encounter on the street," Arrow spoke as if he were explaining an obvious truth to a slow-witted child. "This is fucked up, but not the worst. Believe me, it can get much worse, and I've seen it myself. Here, it's only six people, not that many."

"Not that many?! Are you serious?!"

"Absolutely."

"Have you gone mad?!" Malu's voice held desperation and some kind of childish pain.

"Malu, watch your mouth," Arrow said calmly but threateningly. "I see you're slowly losing it."

"Am I losing it? Me? I lost it when I saw this! Damn, Arrow, there were girls there! Fuck, he wasn't just raping them! I can't believe what was in those photos! They... they were... God, they were just ordinary orphan girls! There were even minors, for fuck's sake! Ordinary, damn it, orphans! Kids from the streets and orphanages, how do you not understand this?! This... this..."

"Well, now he'll pay for it," Arrow shrugged.

"How? By working for you?! And continuing to torment orphans?! Are you out of your mind?!"

"I said, shut your fucking mouth!" Arrow roared, pulling a gun from his jacket and pointing it directly at Malu's face. But the guy stood still, glaring at him with hatred, showing not a drop of fear. "Don't forget your place, Malu. If there were others here, I would have blown your brains out right at your first outburst, so consider yourself lucky the guys aren't here. I wouldn't have let you off the hook if everyone else saw it."

"You don't understand..." he growled.

"It's you who doesn't understand, Malu. You've been in this business since you were a kid, and you still haven't grasped what kind of world this is. There are no fucking ponies prancing around crapping out fruit rainbows. Besides, it's not up to me to decide. So shut your trap and sit down, I'm warning you for the last time."

They stood facing each other. For a moment, I thought Malu wouldn't sit down and Arrow would blow his brains out. And he might just do the same to me for good measure. Those moments were very long, drawn out like glue. But Malu eventually took his seat. He sighed heavily, pulled up a chair, and sat down. He rested his elbows on his knees, clenched his fingers into a fist, and, lowering his head, bit on it.

Arrow gathered everything back into the folder, walked over to the safe, threw everything in, and then took out a small wad of money.

"Here," he handed it to Malu, who obediently took it. "As agreed. And Malu, I'm forgiving you for this bullshit for the first and last time. I'm just cutting you some slack for your age, the fact that you've never dealt with this kind of shit before, and the work you've done. But next time, I'll kill you. You understand?"

The atmosphere in the room unambiguously indicated that he wasn't joking. It was like a tangible aura that sometimes appears in certain situations - you don't feel it physically, but it's suffocating.

And I was very afraid that Malu would do something stupid. Honestly, if he gets killed, I won't feel sorry for him. His idiotic behavior keeps pushing us to the edge time after time. I don't want to lose the chance to cure my sister just because this moron got a crazy idea. I can understand his anger about the photos, but didn't he know what he was getting into? Didn't he know what he would be doing? His unexpected sensitivity seemed strange since he didn't seem like a fool before.

"I get it," Malu replied with a heavy sigh. "I understand everything."

"Good. Keep your head on, Malu, and you'll likely become one of us. Understand?"

"Yes, I understand, Arrow. Thank you," he nodded, rising to his feet.

"Good. Now get out of here. Grab something from the bartender for the road, tell him I'm paying."

"Thanks, Arrow," he nodded gloomily and left the office.

We quietly made our way to the bar, where Malu snatched a bottle of cheap liquor. After that, we finally left that place. We got into the car and fell silent, each lost in our thoughts.

"Alright, are we celebrating or mourning today? I want to prepare for either one," Alex started.

"I don't even know if you're an idiot or not, and that pisses me off," Malu mumbled.

"A smart idiot," I added my two cents. "An idiot you can ignore, but too smart to turn your back on."

"I don't know if you're complimenting me or not!"

"He's warning me," Malu sighed and started the car. "Hell… Nobody gives a damn..."

"What are you going to do?" Alex asked.

"Get drunk. Get really drunk. But before that, I'll distribute the money, pick up our sweetheart Syringa, just in case something happens, and drop everyone off at their homes." He started the car, and we pulled away. "The kind of people you can meet... It's just a complete and utter mess. I've worked a lot, never encountered anything like this."

"Even in the Lower City?" Clarified Alex.

"Yes, even there. I've seen a lot of things there: rapes, murders, tortures, and whatnot. I've seen a guy being dismembered over debts, a girl's hand chopped off for theft, a junkie being nailed to the wall by his hands for stealing a stash. I've seen some gruesome stuff, but never anything like this, done for no reason at all..."

He fell silent.

The car slowly rolled on through the night city.