We got rid of the truck quite easily.

The city was already being cordoned off by that time, so we did not hesitate to cross the terrain in the truck. We drove through a field, then crossed a small forest, avoiding the main road, which was definitely blocked. We made our way to the suburbs, to an abandoned ore processing plant that had been shut down long ago. We left the truck there, set it on fire, and then switched to Syringa's hatchback.

Naturally, only the exit was blocked, so we quite calmly re-entered the city, after which we headed to the point. No, not to Arrow's bar, but to an auto repair shop, which belonged to one of the people from the clan.

While we were still at the plant, seeing me struggling to get out of the trunk, Alex congratulated me.

"Well, congrats on your baptism by fire!" he gently patted me on the back. "Though taking bullets wasn't really necessary."

"Ali, are you a fool or what?!" Syringa roared at him, having already hidden all her peculiar features. "Idiot... Go get the cans, we need to burn it!"

"I still congratulate you," he patted me and headed towards the abandoned buildings.

"Is the blood flowing badly?" This was Malu coming up. "Can you move your hand?"

I carefully lifted it, feeling a burning pain with every movement.

"No, the blood isn't gushing, but it hurts like hell," I grimaced.

"And your stomach?"

I just shrugged, and Syringa added:

"It's gone right through."

"But it was worth it, right? When else would you get to survive through such a massacre? An unforgettable experience," he grinned.

"I could have lived without it," I grimaced.

"But you'll have something to remember and brag about."

"Only in front of you guys," I replied with a hint of a smile.

"Why not? You could make a career in the clan."

"I could do without that."

"Well, as you wish. Then... Shall we celebrate your first and very loud serious job?" He climbed into the trunk, dragged out bags, rummaged in one, and pulled out a small white wrap.

"You kidding?" Syringa frowned. "Why?"

"He'll feel better. And the pain will dull. It’s not like I'm not offering him LSD."

"I don't know..." I mumbled, but Malu just waved his hand.

"Don't be a wuss. You're in pain, so sniff this to dull it. I'm not trying to hook you. If there were vodka, I'd give it to you. Why do I have to watch you suffer? It's written all over your face that you feel really shitty."

That's exactly how people become addicts, I know. But I really was in pain and a little scared that my poor belly had been perforated. We still had to go back. I couldn't even imagine what to do with the wounds afterward.

Malu poured two small piles onto the back of his hand.

"Syringa, can you roll up a bill, please?"

"Jeez... Malu, you're an idiot. It's just amazing that your sister is so smart," she snorted, pulling out a hundred and rolling it up.

"I deliberately took the worst, so she only gets the best. That's love, isn't it?" He winked, took the offered tube, and handed it to me. "One for each nostril. You know, like in the movies. Go on - you'll feel better in a few minutes, I promise."

I looked again at the two small white mounds on his hand with doubt, then moved my shoulder and immediately regretted it, receiving a jolt of sharp pain. The hole in my belly simply burned and hurt, as if a red-hot rod was also pushed in there. Plus, everything I've been through... I felt exhausted. Tired, I just wanted to lie down and sleep for a few days, so...

"Damn," I took the tube from a grinning Malu, brought it to my nose, and inhaled alternately with each nostril.

"Using illegal substances... Tsk-tsk-tsk," Alex smirked, returning with cans in his hands. "And I thought you were a decent guy."

"Illegal substances are the gene pool of those we took this from," I replied, anticipating new sensations without any joy.

***

The sensations wore off about an hour later. Just in time for our arrival.

The whole way, I felt like I was about to explode with happiness or gain even more weight at the mere thought that we had succeeded. I still didn't know how much money we had made, but I was ready to literally scream with joy. Or run.

Surprisingly, I never noticed a desire to work out before. But all the way, I felt an extraordinary excitement and could have easily run around the city to stretch my muscles a bit. And there was an odd desire to talk to someone. Yes, just to talk, to tell them how happy I am and how I want to run. I might have even been able to persuade someone to run with me. I completely forgot about the pain, to be honest – it didn't exist for me. And if it did make itself known, it was somewhere far away, on the edge of my consciousness, like a bruise that occasionally reminds you of itself.

What was far more important was that I was in a good... no, excellent mood. I wanted to celebrate our successful venture.

Not to mention the rush of ideas that were swirling in my head. There were so many ideas, and they all seemed real to me. From becoming a programmer, writing a super program, and making millions to lending money to everyone and taking it back with a thirty percent commission.

But the most important thing in all of this was, of course, the high.

This feeling is hard to explain, but I would compare it to an orgasm. There was something remotely similar in them, even if I couldn't say it was the same thing. Therefore, I could simply describe it in one word - bliss. I wanted to lie in it forever, feel it forever, and die from it so that it was my last sensation.

And, of course, I wanted to tell everyone about it.

How I managed to keep my tongue behind my teeth, only God knows, and he was definitely on my side today since I was still alive.

"I told you everything would be fine," Malu winked at me.

"Y-yes, fine," I mumbled, afraid to blurt out something extra. Extremely afraid, because every thought in my head seemed very serious and required more detailed discussion.

For instance, I wanted to seriously discuss with Malu whether he was sleeping with Syringa or not, as the integrity of our group depended on their relationship. I had the same question about Malu and Alex, as their relationship unsettled me. Why do they communicate so well, and how did they meet? Maybe it has something to do with Alex's ability to connect with people?

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

But I held back. I wonder what was worse, the unexpected torrent of questions without answers or the pain? The high blurred everything, hindering clear thinking. I always wanted to know as much as possible, and cocaine only exacerbated this. Although, truthfully, I just wanted to chat, not to find out if Malu was sleeping with Syringa or Alex.

Or maybe with Arrow? Actually, they have a whole gang there...

Holy Light, where are we headed?!

"Umm... Box? What's up? You seem tense," Alex looked at me attentively.

"Dick."

"What?" Malu also turned to me now. Syringa was more verbose.

"What the fuck? What are you talking about, Box?"

"We're going... to a clan's dick?" I managed to explain my train of thought.

"You mean, to a clan member?" Malu rephrased. "Fuck, I thought you were... Yes, we're going to him, although he's not one of the soldiers. He's just Arrow's assistant."

No, Malu, you heard me right. Once we get there, it's going to go down...

But his explanation was also acceptable to me. Look how everyone sighed in relief.

As I looked at the city streets, I kept seeing girls everywhere. Brunettes, blondes, with greenish, bluish hair, redheads, emerald ones... Some even had hair as white as snow. Hmm… does Syringa's pubic hair match the color of her head? I want to know, what if she dyes her hair…

"Syringa…"

"What?"

"Your hair... your pu..." the words got stuck in my throat because I realized what I was about to ask her.

"Something's wrong with my hair?" She immediately tilted the rearview mirror towards her face. "It's okay... Hey, is he hallucinating?"

"Um, how do we know?" Alex didn't understand.

"Just ask him, you nitwit."

"Vomit," I rhymed, giggling. "Sorry, I'm... a bit out of it."

"I can see that..." He examined me closely.

I suddenly wanted to hide and scream for him not to look at me so intently, but to go to Malu. He's the one Alex found a common tongue with... A tongue, one for all... one passes their tongue to another for them to...

I shook my head, trying to get rid of that image. And then I felt an urge to cover Syringa's eyes and ask: "Guess who?"

On a busy city street. If someone did that to me, I would ask:

"Idiot?"

Everyone glanced at me in silence. Even Syringa, but only through the rearview mirror.

"I mean that guy who looked like a librarian. Just remembered how he yelled at me. He won't yell anymore."

Malu chuckled.

"Right, remember, Syringa? I thought he was going to puke from anger."

"What happened there?" Alex perked up.

"It was Box, he…"

And he started telling Ali what happened in that unfortunate room, while I was just glad I hadn't passed out. Even knowing I'm high, I can't control myself, as blatantly stupid thoughts disguise themselves as very smart ones, which is especially bothering me.

But more likely, it's because I'm just overexcited after the job, tension finds its way out through talking, and the cocaine in my blood removes all inhibitions. As they say, talk it out, and you'll feel better.

And I will feel better when it wears off.

So, when my excitement started to calm down, I couldn't even describe my relief. My thoughts were my own again, and stupid questions like how Alex and Malu are connected disappeared. But with this, the pain came back, although, in my opinion, this option was much better.

But if I thought it ended there, I was gravely mistaken. The problems didn't even think about ending. They weren't as massive as the ones we faced with the gang, but there wasn't much to rejoice at, either. Everything came down to Arrow, or more precisely, the money he wanted to get.

Not ours, for the guns.

"Listen," Malu was trying to keep his cool. "We were talking about drugs. I brought you everything that was there, even the wraps. Everything else, including the guns, is ours."

"We were talking about money, Malu. Your money, no bullshit, but the guns don't fucking belong to you."

We were in a car repair shop, or more precisely, in a staff room. A small dirty room where the workers rested. Besides our team and Arrow, there were three of his guys here. The repair shop itself was located near the industrial district opposite the residential blocks, but on the other side of the place where we took the disinsection van last time. There were a lot of car repair shops, car washes, shops for cars, and other equipment that people might need around here. You could say it was a small automotive town. As I understood it, part of the shops belonged directly to the Hassa clan.

"You brought the fatso, you said, so my guy can patch him up, but who's going to pay?"

We should've hidden the guns before coming to him. I realized this, but only when we walked in. Before that, I was preoccupied with a drug high, and then pain. It was Malu who let it slip, by the way. He briefly mentioned that he took the money that was there, along with some other trifles. But it was these trifles that Arrow latched onto. It was useless to deny it, as he could just send his guy to check the bags we left in the hatchback.

And to start shooting at him right here...

"I'll give part of the guns, no problem. But not all."

"What do you mean not all? Malu, you're missing something. All these guns belong to us," Arrow approached him almost closely.

"Why the hell!?" Syringa joined in. "We did your job. Brought the goods, and you're ripping us off down to the last thread!"

"Listen here. I did you a favor, let you earn some money. I could have not given you this job."

"And we did it. We gave you everything you asked for! You're just using your position now to screw us over!"

"Lower your barks, tail-girl," he snarled, not-so-subtly hinting at her true nature, and approached her closer. "Am I using my position? Maybe, maybe... But wasn't it you who crawled to me on your knees for me to use my position and help you with your sister? And note, I didn't ask for money," he, I would say, gently took her by the chin and lifted her face to his, as she was shorter. "I just took what you could give at that moment, although I could get the same from any slut and much better quality."

"I'm not a whore," she growled, attempting to break free, but Arrow wouldn't allow it, gripping her by the butt with one hand and her neck with the other. It seemed as if she was about to spit in his face. That would be a complete disaster. If anything like that happened, I suspect there would be a bloodbath.

Malu reached out to him, but the safety catches of those accompanying Arrow clicked into place.

"Don't bother, Malu. Don't ruin our relationship over some broad who can only bitch when she's not asked to and suck a dick," said Arrow.

"I just wanted to say we're not in the right. Take the guns," Malu's words were so strained that they seemed to be forced out of his vocal cords, even though he tried to hide it.

"You forgot to say the magic word," Arrow looked at him.

"Please," he tried to respond as calmly as possible.

"Alright. Alright," Arrow immediately let go of Syringa, who practically bounced away from him, shaking herself off. "Do you really think I'd do something to her? God forbid, nothing of the sort. It's better to have more... business-like relationships with her and leave this kind of stuff to professional whores. Though she could do with not meddling in other people's business and respecting those who give her work. Any work."

"I'm not a whore," Syringa repeated in a guttural voice, almost growling.

"But that's not the point. As they say, one time doesn't make you a fag. It was a deal, and I don't consider you a whore, Syringa," he raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. "I'm talking about other jobs, which no one knows about and which I keep entirely secret."

The three behind him still held guns in their hands, even if they weren't aiming at us. It was a bit... scary, at least for me. Not the most pleasant feeling - to realize that a single word can decide your life. And right now, considering the situation, such an outcome is entirely possible.

It's doubly painful to die after you've survived a massacre in another place.

"I know, Malu, that you're angry, but..." Arrow looked closely at him. "It was me who let you earn. Just because I didn't know about the guns doesn't mean you can take them now. If I knew, I would have said right away who they'd belong to. It was my stash, and I set the boundaries of what can be taken and what can't. So don't try to bullshit me about honesty now. And furthermore, keep your bitch under control. Your team - your responsibility. She should take a leaf out of fatso's book. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Malu answered very quietly. His tightly clenched fists were tense, and his gaze was boring into the floor.

"I didn't hear," Arrow asked him again with a slight hint of challenge.

"Yes, I understand," repeated Malu louder.

"That's perfect. Now you can take your buddy to the doc. I'll let him know about the patient. The cash, as agreed, you take. You can take a dose of coke to celebrate. The drugs and guns are mine. Any more questions?"

There were no questions. At least not from Alex and me. But Malu had questions, specifically for Syringa.

As soon as we left the auto repair shop's backyard, where the car was parked, and no one else was around, Malu abruptly turned around and slapped Syringa. The sound, similar to a whip's crack, echoed through the small yard cluttered with garbage. Syringa, not expecting this, fell to the ground, half-turned, with a look of confusion and tears in her eyes.

"Malu?" she whimpered, staring at him in shock.

But he just stood over her, looking down with a sort of indifference, as if he didn't care. Or he was trying to keep his cool.

"I'm busting my ass to make everything good for us, Syringa. But I don't meddle in your personal life, do I? I don't tell you what to do, how to behave, do I?" he inquired.

"I... I don't understand..." she muttered.

"And I don't understand why the hell you're sticking your nose where it's not wanted!" roared Malu.

"But the money... he wanted to screw us over..."

"And you fucking decided you're the smartest one?! Have you lost your mind, Syringa?! Do you understand what's allowed and what's not?!"

He was almost yelling, holding himself back. Even though I'm not a fan of violent discipline, I could understand Malu. There are things we shouldn't interfere with. I understood Syringa's behavior, but I also knew she had a loose tongue. While Alex could control his, she just swung hers like a hammer. One day, she might just screw us all over.