The door to the master suite had clicked shut behind Justin, leaving a temporary pocket of chilling silence within the room, save for the heavy, wet breathing of the man on the floor. Hermes stood over the wreckage of the wardrobe, his gaze fixed on the heap of silk and bruised flesh that was Captain Mattia.
His eyes, framed by the Mask of Destruction, pulsed with a neon-scarlet intensity. He moved toward the Captain with a slow, deliberate pace—not the frantic movement of a child in a rage, but the measured step of a predator who had finally cornered a particularly annoying pest.
Justin had done a thorough job. Mattia's face was a map of purple contusions and swelling. Hermes turned his gaze at his butler, who was consecutively giving hard punches to the fat and old official. His face turned dark with a neon sight when he approached them. His butler halted after he noticed his presence, and he quickly released Mattia who was heavily beaten by his hands.
"I gave him the punishment he deserved, my Don," said Justin, promptly kneeling on one knee and pressing his hand to his chest.
Hermes signaled him to stand up. He folded his arms as he stepped his feet onto the fatty old official's face. "Oi, you fatty old man. Wake up," he commanded, stomping his shoes roughly against the man's jaw—not with lethal force, but with a degrading roughness.
Captain Mattia cried, "Who... Who... Who the... hell.. are you, people?"
Hermes clicked his tongue, feeling a sharp spike of annoyance at the question. He kicked Mattia's face squarely. The fatty old official rolled back and forth on the floor, crying from pain while his hands covered the part he got hit. The young Don got irritated from his reaction and hit his stomach twice with his shoes. With that hard kick, the old official coughed blood and his left hand pressed the center part of his stomach. His face turned purple from nausea as his vision started to blur from the agony.
"Who the fuck we are? You have no idea who we are?" Hermes questioned, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "We are your worst nightmare tonight, you son of a bitch. Don't you see how much time has been wasted just to finish this mission, huh? Huh? I can't hear you, you maggot. We've come this far just to save a single person. I can't believe you're going to gob that girl. She's fucking young for you, you bastard. Have some class."
Captain Mattia begged, "P-p-please, have mercy on me."
"Oh, you're now going to beg for your life? You son of a bitch. Fuck you. I don't give a shit to an NPC like you," said the young Don abruptly.
"N-N-N-P-C?" Captain Mattia puzzled upon hearing it. He didn't know what the meaning of NPC was, and Justin had never heard about it either.
Hermes raised his chin up, "Yes, you son of a bitch. You are just an NPC. An individual who just exists for a simple purpose. In short, you're just a background character. I have no idea why you're here but your existence has been ruining the whole plot of my game. Because of you, my life starts to become miserable. The quest should be easy at first but you choose to ruin my plan not once but twice."
"W-W-W-What do you want from me?" cried Captain Mattia as he didn't understand the reason for his hatred towards him.
Hermes slapped his face twice, "You have no right to question me. Do you understand me, you fucking bastard?"
The fatty old official nodded several times and he kept his mouth shut. He answered, "Y-Y-Yes, sir. I fully understand."
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Hermes heard several footsteps coming to the room. Without looking behind, he asked, "Justin, you know what you need to do."
His butler nodded without saying a word as he fully understood what he meant to. Justin opened the door with the face of a vicious killer and he closed the door with etiquette. His smiling face turned dark as he turned his face at the enemies coming upstairs.
One of the guards who appeared to be one of the higher-ranking officers asked him, "Who are you? State your name!" His men behind him raised up their weapons and they aimed at the butler's position.
Justin fixed his hair, cracked his neck from left to right, and stretched his arms upward. Without a single word, the head of the officer who asked the question sent flying before his blood came out from the decapitated throat. The whole floor near the butler started to rain with blood and the people who witnessed his ferocious action became terrified.
Justin greeted, "Allow me to introduce myself, you lowly lifeforms. My name is Justin. I have no surname but I will make your life in shame. The sole servant of the Holy Supreme Being, Hermes Archnemesis. No need to ask me twice who am I since I am your nemesis."
"H-H-Hermes Archnemesis? The real Hermes Archnemesis of the West Scily. Wait, you're the butler of Aljen the merchant. Don't tell me, that brat is—Goaaaw," said the other officer before his head was sent flying too.
The face of the butler turned darker than before, "Remember this lad, no one shall call my master's name a brat. He has a name. Of course, I am the only servant of my lord." He sighed, "Oh, my. How careless am I. I should just eliminate all of you to remain it a secret? Don't worry, I'll make sure you have a free ticket to hell."
"Kill him!" the last voice of the remaining leader of the group shouted.
The whole headquarters started to lighten up with gunfire inside. Blood started to cover each floor at that time.
While Justin was busy slaughtering all of the village guards under Captain Mattia—whether they were involved in the plot or not—the young Don started to interrogate the high official. He pulled out his submachine gun, and he pointed the barrel at the eyes of the fat man.
"Hey, there's something I want you to answer right now," he asked, glaring through the mask.
Captain Mattia froze, staring cross-eyed at the barrel. "What do you want from me? I will answer it with no lies behind it. Please don't kill me."
The muffled screams from the hallway had begun to taper off, replaced by a heavy, metallic scent of blood seeping under the door. Inside the suite, Hermes remained the picture of cold, calculative precision. He didn't let the adrenaline of the breach dictate his movements; instead, he cracked his neck from left to right, his scarlet gaze fixed on the shivering Captain.
"Say," Hermes began, his voice devoid of heat, "I'll be frank and go straight to the point. Who is responsible for the kidnapping?"
Under that terrifying, unblinking gaze, Mattia's resolve disintegrated. He answered without a moment's hesitation. "It... it is the Handdog Gang's leader. His name is Renzo. He has no surname, but I guarantee he is the one who paid for her abduction. He asked me to bring her under my care first before we would meet in this place. I think he and his crew will be here any minute now."
Hermes processed the information instantly. He stood still, analyzing the logic of the incident. This Renzo apparently possessed the leverage to monopolize the district's corruption. If he was the one funding the abduction, he was likely the architect of the harsh immigration policies and the economic strangulation of District 3 that Daliah had detailed in her reports.
"Say, what do you know about their goal?" Hermes asked.
Mattia blinked twice, his eyes darting toward the corner of the room. It was a classic tell. Hermes didn't scream; he simply delivered a swift, clinical kick to the Captain's belly. The air left Mattia in a wheeze, forcing his mouth open.
"I... I don't know!" the fat official gasped.
"Bullshit. Say something, will ya?"
Hermes didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger of his submachine gun. A deafening burst shredded the floorboards, leaving a jagged, smoking hole inches from the official's face. The smell of burnt wood and cordite filled the air. Mattia gulped, his eyes bulging.
"Please have mercy on me, sir! I'm telling the truth! I have no idea what they want from the girl!"
"Don't deceive me, fat ass," Hermes said, his voice dropping to a whisper that was far more menacing than a shout. "Do you really think I will fall for your play? Say something before I blow your head off and let your filthy blood lay scattered around your private room. You have three seconds to answer."
He aimed his gun directly at the Captain's forehead.
"Wait!" Mattia pleaded.
"One... two—I'm not bluffing, fatass. Say something. Two and a half... alright—"
"I said it! I'll say it!" Mattia shrieked. Hermes stopped his finger just as the sear was about to release. "What did you say?"
"Renzo... leader of the Handdog gang... he wants her to be sold to a powerful family!"
"Elaborate. That's news to me and your answer is too short," Hermes commanded, his eyes narrowing.
Mattia spilled the rest in a panicked rush. "She's the Priestess of the God of Fate, right? There's a rumor that whoever has her will be given the right to become a powerful leader in Eurasia. I mean, in Italia. It was five years ago when I signed a contract with that bastard. Renzo told me he would sell her to a client—a powerful Don residing in Northern Italia. He never said if the Don was a man or a woman. He was just ordered to capture her and bring her to their place."
"Who the hell will make him do that? She's not so important though. I don't see anything worth to her class." Hermes tilted his head, his mind racing through his memories of the game. The Priestess of the God of Fate? He recalled the twelve playable heroines, the High Priestess of Roma, and even the Empress of Londinium. But this specific title? It didn't exist in the original lore.
She isn't a person I remember, he thought. If she's this important, she might be an irreplaceable figure. But why the abduction? He considered if she was a secret relative of the successors intended for the revival of the Grand Empire of the Ratican.
"The game is starting to change," he muttered aside, his voice too low for Mattia to hear.
A faint vibration through the floorboards caught his attention—the sound of the clashes underneath his shoes had finally died down. He simpered. "He must be having fun."
"What?" Mattia gulped.
Hermes rested his gun on his shoulder. "Well, there's no time for me to interview someone like you. No need to worry; there's something you can do to make this right."
Suddenly, Justin appeared behind Hermes. There was no sound—no creak of a floorboard or rustle of fabric. He knelt down with his hands pressed on his chest, head lowered.
"All of the village guards are completely sent to hell," Justin reported.
"How many were there? How many escaped?" Hermes asked, keeping his face upfront.
"The casualties are numbered at twenty-three dead village guards. These corrupted militia members have been purged; there is no one left to escape the place."
"Good job," Hermes grinned, the scarlet light in his mask flickering. "Justin, I want you to do me a favor."
"What is it, sir?"
Hermes pulled down his gun and turned his upper body toward his butler. "Tie this man up, because we're going to have a guest to meet tonight."
Justin flinched slightly as he caught the full intensity of Hermes's scarlet neon sight. A dark, knowing grin spread across the butler's face. "As you wish, my Don."
Later….
Outside, cutting through the fog of District 3, a group of men in heavy black cloaks approached the headquarters. They could hear the fading echoes of chaos, but to their arrogant ears, it sounded like the celebration they had been promised.
"Unbelievable. Why did that bastard start the party without us?" mumbled the man in the lead.
This was Renzo. He wore a blue tailored suit, a silver-topped cane in his hands, and a white top hat on his head. His henchman, Intenzo, approached his superior. "Sir, that didn't sound like a party to me. I don't know why, but I am sure it is really more than that."
"Oh, you're sure? If not, I'll blow your head off by using my own pistol," Renzo sneered.
"Sir, we are going to arrive at the place any minute now. Should we really move at that place with only a few members behind us?" asked Intenzo.
Renzo kept his eyes forward. "There's nothing to be afraid of. We already give them ten percent of our protection money in order to keep them away from our businesses. Y' know, there's nothing we can buy without this money in my pocket."
The fog of District 3 acted like a shroud, muffling the footsteps of the six men approaching the military headquarters. Intenzo, clutching a heavy leather briefcase to his chest as if it were a holy relic, shadowed his superior's every step.
"I agree, boss," Intenzo whispered. "Money is the foundation of all. Everything is controlled by a single coin. A single coin can change everything in an instant. In an instant, you'll become a millionaire by doing so."
Renzo adjusted his white top hat, a sneer curling his lip. "You piece of crap, you're saying some shit that I couldn't even understand at all. You mean a single gold coin is worth a thousand Luzers, right? It means we can control the monopoly and industry of this nation by using it." He let out a mischievous, high-pitched giggle. "There's nothing more worth it than controlling this piece of garbage."
To Renzo, Neue Fiona was exactly that: garbage. It was a stagnant pond of poverty, undeveloped for decades, making it the perfect breeding ground for the Handdog Gang. The citizens were poor and easy to manipulate; the officials, like Captain Mattia, were corrupt husks who could be bought with a fraction of the gang's profits. Those who dared to resist were simply erased, their names scrubbed from the local history as if they had never existed.
Renzo hadn't always been a ganglord. Five years ago, he was a mere soldier in the declining Tatsulez mafia family. The organization had been gasping its final breaths, secretly trying to survive by supplying resources to the Archnemesis family. Renzo, fueled by a deep-seated grudge and an insatiable ambition, saw an opportunity. He leaked the information of the Tatsulez involvement to the higher powers.
Under the guise of friendship, Renzo had signed a secret agreement with a Capo of the Godfather. He volunteered to play the role of the butcher, promising to kill all the family members himself to prove his loyalty. He believed that by decapitating the Tatsulez leadership, he would be promoted to the rank of Don, putting him in charge of the territory.
Renzo and his trusted comrades, including Intenzo, carried out the hit with cold-blooded efficiency. They ambushed the Tatsulez boss and his capos in a dark parking lot. The night air was freezing, but the heat from their submachine guns warmed Renzo's heart as he watched his former superiors fall.
But the reality of the mafia hierarchy was a bitter pill. Instead of being named a Don, the Godfather granted him only the rank of a small-time ganglord, permitted to lead less than fifty men. His dream of nobility was snatched away. Worse yet, the new Don of the reorganized territory was a girl.
In Eurasia, the mafia monarchy was often dominated by female Dons who held the power of life and death, making male Dons a social taboo—save for the Godfather, who many whispered was merely a puppet for the female noble families.
"Boss, are you alright?" Intenzo asked, patting Renzo's shoulder.
Renzo flinched violently. "Hey—what the fuck are you doing, huh? Keep your filthy hands off me!"
"Forgive me, sir. You've been spacing out for a minute," Intenzo said, bowing his head.
Renzo clenched his teeth. "There's nothing for you to concern yourself about. Tell our men to spread out. How many minutes until we arrive?"
"It won't take long, boss. We'll be there any second."
"Crap. My legs are getting numb," Renzo grumbled, leaning on his cane. "And make sure to hold that briefcase tight. You'll be a dead man if something happens to my money. Your life is meaningless compared to my money which is worth a million Luzers. That precious money of mine is equivalent to a big diamond."
Intenzo looked down, a flicker of sadness passing over his face. As they rounded the final bend toward Captain Mattia's headquarters, three figures emerged from the mist, standing roughly a hundred meters away.
"Hey, there are three people out there," Renzo noted, squinting. "Is that Captain Mattia and his crew?"
"I have no idea. Should we proceed?" Intenzo asked.
Renzo chopped Intenzo's head angrily. "Who do you think you are? You have no right to question me! You have nothing to ask and nothing to say! You hear me?"
Intenzo rubbed his head in silence, nodding twice. Renzo ordered his five other henchmen to fan out, while he and Intenzo approached the center. As the distance closed, Renzo recognized Mattia, but the Captain stood unnaturally still, his face pale and battered.
"Oh, there you are, Mattia," Renzo said, a predatory grin on his face. "So, you want to greet me here tonight? I'm flattered."
Mattia didn't speak. His eyes darted frantically toward the butler standing beside him and the figure in the Mask of Destruction behind them.
"What? Why are you so quiet?" Renzo asked. "By the way, I never heard about that man beside you. You didn't tell me you hired a butler."
Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. The air grew cold, and a hum of static electricity made the hair on Renzo's neck stand up. Hermes shifted his weight, and a streak of dark energy gathered at his fingertips.
"Boss, get behind me!" Intenzo screamed.
Intenzo lunged forward, dropping the briefcase and throwing his hands up. A shimmering translucent shield—a Mana Barrier—erupted just in time.
ZOOOOM—CRACK!
A beam of black laser light slammed into the barrier. The impact was so violent that the ground beneath Intenzo's feet cracked.
"Get the hell away from here, boss. There's a mage!" cried Intenzo as his hands started to tremble from the impact. His barrier had disappeared but luckily, it deflected the laser.
Renzo roared into the dark, his white top hat trembling with his rage. "Hey, Mattia, you fuckin' imbecile! Is this what you want, huh? You want to clean your name so desperately by killing me? Me? The Great Renzo of the Handdog gang? Answer me, goddamn moron!"
"Boss, it's no use!" Intenzo screamed. He threw his hands up, forced to activate his barrier once more as the butler's position flashed again with that searing black light.
"Men, kill them!" Renzo commanded, spittle flying from his lips. "Kill all of them!"
The Handdog henchmen didn't hesitate. They pulled out their rifles and initiated a frontal, long-range shootout. A hail of lead descended upon the stairs where the three men stood. Bullets tore into the stone walls of the headquarters, and the entire landing was quickly engulfed in a thick, choking cloud of grey smoke and debris.
The cacophony of gunfire tore through the silence of the district. In the surrounding houses, citizens scrambled into hiding. Children were dragged under beds, whimpering as their parents whispered desperate prayers. Those brave enough to move ran toward the village center, screaming for help that wouldn't come.
Renzo spread his arms wide, a manic burst of laughter escaping his throat. "That's right! That's what happens to people who dare to try and kill me! That's the fate of someone who tries to defy the Great Renzo! Take that, pieces of shit!"
His laugh echoed off the cold stone of the courtyard. After a few moments, he signaled his men to halt. As the smoke slowly cleared, Renzo's eyebrows shot up. Captain Mattia was still standing there, but he wasn't fighting back. His mouth was filled with blood, his upper body was riddled with holes from the gang's own bullets, and his eyes had turned blank. With a wet thud, the Captain dropped like a log.
"See, you piece of shit. That's what you get!" Renzo laughed once more, thinking he had won.
"Boss, don't take another step," Intenzo cautioned, his voice tight with alarm. "The butler and the other one... they aren't there."
"What?" Renzo blinked, frantically searching the courtyard.
Suddenly, a sound dominated the field—the haunting, melodic notes of a piano.
"What the hell is that sound? W-wait, a piano? In the middle of the night, who's playing that thing?" Renzo muttered, spinning around.
"Boss, up there!" Intenzo pointed to the top floor balcony of the building.
Standing alone on the ledge was a young man in a perfectly tailored black suit, a coat draped over his shoulders like a cape. His face was a mask of cold superiority, looking down at the gang with utter disdain. In his hand, he gripped a submachine gun with a terrifyingly calm familiarity. This was the type of person Renzo hated most—someone who radiated a higher class, a more paramount existence.
"Greetings, Renzo and his friends," Hermes spoke, his voice carrying effortlessly. "It is an honor to meet you in person. It is a great pleasure to see you down there, looking like a fool with no idea what will happen next. A fool who tried to steal everything from me will meet a miserable end." He sighed theatrically. "Don't you know you've brought so many irritating events into my life? However, I would like to congratulate you on killing the fatty old man with your own guns. You followed my aim perfectly. One objective successfully completed. Allow me to show you my dance to thank you for your ignorance."
"What the fuck are you talking about? I helped you with what?" Renzo pulled out his pistol, aiming it at the balcony.
Hermes ignored the threat, a dark grin spreading across his face. "You piece of garbage destroyed important parts of my game. You ruined everything from the beginning. Not only that, you even dared to sell out that woman just for money. How pathetic."
Renzo fired, but the shot went wide.
"Why does the music sound so dark?" Intenzo muttered, shivering.
"You son of a bitch! Men, shoot him! Intenzo, use a Tier 4 spell to destroy that imbecile!"
"Every villain has its own unique music," Hermes laughed, the sound echoing like a mad scientist from a horror film. "The entrance of a villain must be unique. You kept roaming in my territory as if you owned it. Welcome to your hellish night, you dipshit! You'll pay for everything you've done for five years. Your gang supremacy ends here!"
The moonlight broke through the clouds, illuminating Hermes's vicious expression. He turned and vaulted back behind the stone wall to avoid the return fire. Near him, Justin sat at a grand piano, his fingers flying across the keys.
"Justin, stop it right now," Hermes commanded. "Kill the henchmen and the mage. Leave only Renzo alive. Don't leave any sign of life in this place. Whack them all."
"As you wish, my Don."
Justin stood, the piano vanishing as he absorbed it into his dark dimensional bag. He adjusted his tie, smoothed his suit, and dashed down the side of the building with supernatural speed.
"Kill that fucking bastard!" Renzo screamed as the butler hit the ground.
"[Al Quuma!]" Intenzo roared, casting a pillar of fire.
Justin blurred through the flames, dodging effortlessly. He moved like a ghost among the henchmen. One by one, the bodyguards were sliced in two, their blood painting the ground and the walls red under the crimson-tinted moon.
From the rooftop, Hermes reloaded, firing cover shots into the chaos. He didn't care if he hit; he was simply enjoying the spectacle.
"Boss, stay behind me!" Intenzo begged.
"M-m-monster! He's a fuckin' monster!" Renzo's bravado had vanished. A dark stain spread across his blue trousers.
"Boss, you're peeing your pants!" Intenzo shouted.
"Shut it! Do something!" Renzo shrieked, his voice hitting a high-pitched note of pure terror as he saw Justin's blood-red gaze fixed on him. "Kyaaaa!"
"Boss, stop screaming! I'll protect you!"
Renzo had completely lost his mind, backing away into the blood-stained dirt. "I will die! I will die! Momma! Momma, please help me!"
Hermes, watching from above, felt a wave of boredom. "What a weak-minded freak. Justin, finish the help. Kill him now."
"I won't let you!" Intenzo barked, stepping between the butler and his pathetic leader. "[Sagre!]"
Spears of magical energy shot toward Justin. The butler twisted in mid-air, dodging the projectiles by inches. He landed softly, a mock look of approval on his face.
"You're good," Justin noted. "How about you join our side rather than that man? My boss needs someone like you in our clan."
Intenzo smiled grimly, raising a mana barrier to catch a lightning-fast punch from the butler. "Thank you for your offer, but I will decline. I'm not going to abandon this man."
The courtyard of the District 3 headquarters had transformed into a theater of carnage, bathed in the sickly silver glow of the moon. Justin moved with a fluid, terrifying grace that defied human physics. He dashed across the blood-slicked stones, leaped from a high stone pillar, and landed a thunderous flying kick squarely against Intenzo's mana barrier.
"How sad," Justin remarked, his voice smooth and devoid of exertion. "I thought we could be friends."
"Cast time is now okay. [Sagre!]" Intenzo roared, desperate to regain the initiative.
Five magical spears of concentrated energy materialized in the air, whistling through the wind. Justin blurred—one, two, three, four spears hissed past him, shattering against the stone walls behind him. Forced to stop his momentum, Justin raised his palm, a small, dense barrier of black mana flickering into existence to intercept the final projectile.
Intenzo grinned, sweat pouring down his face. "No matter what you do, you won't get closer to me! I'm a mage specialized in both close and long-range combat. I can tell you're just a man who can only use low-tier magic."
"How low? Tier 5?" Justin simpered, his head tilting at a predatory angle.
Intenzo sighed, regaining a flash of misplaced confidence. "You're nothing but a low-class mage. You can hide and dodge my attacks, but you won't be able to win against me. Needless to say, you are nothing but a mage who can use less than that."
The butler's eyes opened wide. For a heartbeat, there was silence, and then he started to burst into laughter. He covered his face with one hand, his shoulders shaking with genuine, dark amusement.
"Hey, why are you laughing, huh? Are you out of your fucking mind?" Intenzo asked, his bravado wavering as he watched the butler's display.
Justin wiped a stray tear from his eye, his voice dripping with mockery. "Oh, my. Forgive my manners; it was not my intention. But to think you're so confident in telling that... it really gives me so much fun."
"What? [Sagre!]" Intenzo cast the spell again, but this time, Justin didn't dodge. He simply reached out and caught the magical spear with his bare palm, the energy dissipating into harmless sparks.
"What the? What did you do?" Intenzo's voice cracked.
Justin's gaze turned cold and hollow. "You disappoint me."
Before Intenzo could blink, a massive invisible force slammed into his chest. His body was launched backward, hurtling across the courtyard until he hit the perimeter wall with a bone-crunching impact. Even with a fortification spell active, the wall shattered, leaving a large crack in the stone.
Intenzo coughed up a spray of thick, dark blood, his vision swimming. Panic finally set in. He raised a trembling hand, gasping, "[Al Quuma!]"
The fire spell surged forward, but it was easily deflected by the butler.
"H-H-How?" Intenzo wheezed, struggling to stand.
"You are nothing but a low-grade, lowly insect," Justin replied.
"I-I-Insect?"
Suddenly, Intenzo found himself in the middle of a dark, suffocating environment. "What the hell is going on around me? What kind of spell is this?"
The butler grabbed his neck, raising him up by the throat. Justin's gaze was terrifying. "This? This is my weakest spell above all. Your piece of shit won't even understand the logic behind it. You are nothing but an insect that needs to be terminated immediately. Don't you know insulting my name is more like insulting the name of our beloved clan, huh? No, right? You wouldn't understand it because you are just a bug."
"St-s-ta—" Intenzo tried to resist, but the butler was too strong. His mind started to lose consciousness as he struggled to breathe.
"B-b-b-boss, run," he wheezed. With a final burst of effort, he released flare magic into the sky. It shone brightly, illuminating the site.
"Haaaah!" Renzo, witnessing the brutal death of his men, screamed out loud. He quickly ran away, abandoning the scene.
"Oh, no you don't!" Hermes pulled the trigger, hitting Renzo's legs. The boss fell, his face hitting the ground first before his body skidded to a halt.
"Aaaarggh!"
To Hermes's amusement, Intenzo—clinging to life—rushed towards his boss and began using healing magic. Hermes signaled his butler, and Justin quickly returned to the balcony to help his master down to the surface.
"Bravo," Hermes clapped as he reached the ground. "Bravo, what a magnificent sight. How loyal you are, mister whatever your name is. I'm impressed."
Intenzo clenched his teeth, a vein showing on his head. "You! How dare you hurt my boss? Just wait... our members will be here any minute now. You'll meet your end this time."
It was then that Intenzo looked at the sky and realized the horror: the flare had hit an invisible sound barrier. No sound and no light had escaped the courtyard.
"Justin, halt," Hermes commanded. "Well, you're the first person I've seen looking at me with that antagonistic sight. Yes, fighting spirit is the best. But let's be okay with that."
"What? How dare you!"
"Let me throw it back to you, you insolent bastard. How dare you? How dare you ruin the plot of my world?" Hermes pulled out his submachine gun and reloaded, sending bullets toward them. Intenzo barely managed to keep his barrier up to protect his boss.
"You fuckin' moron, you are going to kill us both!" Intenzo screamed. "Just you wait! Reinforcement will come any minute now!"
Hermes and his butler burst into laughter.
"Why're you both laughing? Why are you laughing for?" fretted Intenzo as he watched the young Don still look confident despite his warning.
Hermes' face turned dark with a sight of a bloodlust monster. "No reinforcement will come. You better pray for your lives, you scum." His smile like a crescent moon in the night made Intenzo feel despair in the time of his life. It was the first time he met an evil kid of his age to make him frightened so much.