After the highway incident outside the mall, Shinji couldn't get last night out of his head.
It felt like watching a real-life action movie — except this one had no stunt doubles, no script, and no logic. His years of experience as the founder of The Phantom — a secret organization that's seen every kind of bloodshed imaginable — still couldn't compare to Derek's psychopathic behavior.
Even his morning coffee couldn't wash away that memory. He didn't know whether he was amazed or terrified. Probably both. He sighed, shook his head, and took another sip.
"I hope that guy considers calling the number on that card…" he muttered, watching small ripples form on his coffee's surface.
The phone rang behind him. He snapped out of his thoughts, walking over while fixing the sash on his bathrobe.
"Hello?" he answered.
His excitement faded fast — it wasn't Derek's voice.
"Hello, Master Shinji?" came an older voice.
It was his butler, Fred. The man had been with him for nearly ten years — loyal, sarcastic, and stubborn as ever.
"Oh, Fred. It's you…"
"Breakfast is ready, sir. The rest of the crew are waiting for you downstairs."
"Y-yeah, I'll be heading down. Oh, and could you tell Jenny to prepare another cup of coffee?" Shinji asked.
Fred sighed. "Master, you've already had five cups today. Too much caffeine is bad for your health."
"Well, I'm me. Just follow my orders." Shinji said, his tone annoyed.
"As you wish, master." Fred hung up.
Shinji looked around his massive room. Living in a mansion wasn't always something to brag about. Money didn't make him happy — his people did. His friends, his workers, and the Phantom crew waiting below.
He stretched his arms and legs, ready to start the day. But when he slid open his closet door — he froze.
Someone was inside.
It wasn't a ghost. It was Derek. Hiding in there like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"…Sup?" Derek said with a wide grin.
Shinji let out a scream, but Derek moved faster — jumping on him and covering his mouth.
"Yeah, thought I'd never call that card, huh? I used it to wipe my ass after shitting in your bathroom while you were sleeping." Derek snickered.
Shinji pulled his hand away. "How the hell did you even get here?! My guards should've knocked you out for trespassing!"
Derek giggled weirdly. "Don't worry. They won't bother me anymore."
"…Why is that?" Shinji asked.
Outside, the garbage bins were filled with his unconscious guards, their legs sticking out.
"You… you did that?!" Shinji shouted. "This mansion's on a remote island! How did you even find it?"
"You know? Being sneaky's kinda my thing," Derek said.
"You followed me?!"
"Yeah, when that old dude picked you up in the limo last night? He looked way too formal to be your dad."
"That's not my father, that's my butler!"
"Oh," Derek said flatly. "Well, I was on the roof."
Shinji blinked. "You're weird."
"Thanks."
Shinji sighed and fixed his hair. "Hey, have you thought about joining us?"
"Tsk, yeah. Just make sure you put me in the deadliest missions," Derek smirked.
Before Shinji could respond, there was a knock at the door.
"Master, the crew's waiting for you. May I come in?" Fred's voice came from outside.
"Yeah, Fred. Come in."
Fred opened the door — and froze when he saw Derek standing beside Shinji. His eyes darted between the two.
"Master, I didn't know you were having an affair… with a man," Fred said, looking genuinely confused.
"No! That's not what it looks like!" Shinji pointed at Derek. "He's a guest. Is there an extra chair at the table?"
"There isn't, but since Frank's on vacation, this young man can take his seat. I'll prepare a meal for him."
Downstairs, the rest of the crew stared at Derek like he'd dropped from the ceiling. Which, knowing him, wasn't impossible.
"Okay, master," said Hollist — a guy with orange hair, glasses, and an unzipped tracksuit. "I've got questions that start with 'who' and end with 'why.'"
"It's a long story, Hollist," Shinji said quietly.
"…How so?"
Shinji sighed. "Remember that night I went to the casino at Wood Valley Highway?"
"Yeah. What about it?"
"Well… I got into some trouble with the Street Dogs mafia."
"YOU WHAT?!" everyone yelled in unison.
"Calm down!" Shinji shouted. "But Derek here saved my ass last night."
All eyes turned to Derek. Hollist adjusted his glasses, tense. "How so?"
"He… killed them," Shinji said carefully. "All of them. Alone."
"WHAT?!" the crew shouted again.
"You do realize killing Marquez's men could start a full-on war between us and the mafia?" Hollist said, his voice rising. "Do you want blood on the streets again?"
Shinji sighed. "That's what this guy wants. I don't know everything about him, but his passion is chaos."
Derek picked up a piece of bacon and chewed loudly. "Should I get a cool nickname? Like 'The Phantom Killer'?"
Fred coughed, setting down a fresh pot of coffee. "How about something that doesn't sound like a B-movie title?"
Derek looked at him. "You're sassy for a butler."
"I'm paid to be," Fred replied smoothly.
Riles leaned over to Hollist. "This guy's nuts," he whispered.
"He's more than nuts," Hollist whispered back. "He's the whole damn peanut factory."
"Enough," Shinji said, standing up. "Whether you like it or not, he's staying with us."
He turned to Hollist. "You'll handle his training — IDs, gear, everything he needs."
Hollist crossed his arms. "You sure this guy won't kill me? Because if he does, I'll haunt you first, Shinji."
Fred scoffed from the side. "I told you, sir — five coffees is enough, and now you've adopted a psychopath."
Shinji pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't worry. He won't kill you."
"How can you be so sure?" Hollist asked.
Derek smirked mid-bite. "You're not important."
Hollist glared. "…I don't mind training you. Just don't piss me off, and we'll be fine."
"Deal!" Derek said cheerfully, snatching Shinji's cup and taking a sip.
Shinji groaned. "Fred, just… get me another coffee."
Fred bowed. "With pleasure, master."