Vincent Benzies seemed to be around the same age as Bruce, only more confident and flexible.
He spent his entire life in Hyland Point, knows every crevice and secret stash, owns a majority of the dealers and producers, and has one of the most powerful names in the city.
The Benzies weren't just a cartel, they were literal gods running the underbelly.
Vincent's calm demeanour shifted as he walked towards Bruce and wrapped his arm around his shoulder, smirking.
"Whoa, your eyes are incredibly green. You reek of weed, too. You smoke your own shit?"
Bruce tried moving, but felt a cold piece of metal being placed on his hip, forcing him to stay still.
Bruce's heart pounded, his mind raced, and his eyes slightly watered.
Going out today was definitely a bad idea.
Vincent pushed his gun closer to Bruce, making him wince once and grit his teeth with his mouth closed.
"Y'know, I thought getting rid of your RV would be enough to get your ass on outta here. Clearly, that was lightweight for you.
"How about I put a bullet right through your lungs right here and now? What then, bitch?"
Bruce's hands shook, and his eyes slowly shut. 'There has to be another way...'
「I'm on it!」
While the system worked, Vincent chuckled and removed the piece of metal, backing away and placing his hands in his coat.
"Nah, killing you isn't enough. First, I'll make sure you can't recover."
Right after Vincent said that, two shady cops appeared with smiles on their faces.
[BODY SEARCH]
[You are currently being searched]
Bruce's muscles tensed up as he froze, the feds already tapping him from torso to toe, covering every inch of his body.
Unfortunately, this time, he wasn't quick enough to hide his product from them.
Vincent's earlier taunt assured he wouldn't have enough time to react.
"Well, what do we have here, Connor?" one cop asked his partner as he pulled out the last piece of kush Bruce had.
"Mh... Looks like marijuana to me, Zach. Hey," Connor snapped his fingers. "Ain't that shit illegal in this state?"
"You bet your sweet ass it is. You're coming with us, kid."
Zach cuffed Bruce, who froze up and furrowed his brows, slightly sweating as he attempted to explain himself.
But, he quickly pieced together that these 2 were probably being paid by the Benzies to take care of unnecessary small timers like him.
Bruce was then ushered to the back of the cop car, his head forcefully lowered and his body shoved inside.
Connor snapped the door shut and sat next to Zach up front. The car pulled up towards Vincent, who threw Connor 2 gold coins before walking towards Bruce's window.
"I'm gonna go grab some real money. Enjoy the next 24 or so minutes. Maybe wank for the last time, little street rat. You're never gonna get the chance again."
Vincent walked away, and the cops drove off with Bruce, who wasn't just steaming with anger, but was also terrified.
He was a good fighter. If Vincent decided to take him on, he definitely would've won.
But gunpowder and steel against his soft body would be like a human against a tank.
His eyes narrowed while his heart burned. 'I'm still not strong enough... Not smart enough...'
"Aw, don't look so glum, kid. Usually, Vincent pops skulls open. He must've taken a liking to you."
The cops laughed and drove to the police station, a grey one-storey building with a depressing aura.
More officers, young and old, were walking inside, talking and having coffee or carrying reports while booking criminals.
Bruce was escorted inside, where he skipped the whole booking process, the dirty cops telling their coworkers that he was only being placed in holding.
This already triggered alarm bells in Bruce. Even if he spoke up, the ethical cops wouldn't believe him.
He kept his mouth shut and hung his head low, assuring that the passing cops didn't look at him for too long.
One elderly officer's eyes followed Bruce. He sighed. 'Youth, nowadays...' Then, he returned to his doughnut and drank his coffee.
Bruce was uncuffed and thrown into a cell in a far and dark corner.
The grey walls were grimy and cracked, while the steel bench was cold, along with the suffocating cell.
Dim flickering lights, a camera facing the opposite direction of the cell and a cop who dug his nose with his back turned away.
'System, how's that plan coming along? I hate to say it, but I might be cooked. Help me, please.'
There was silence, and Bruce's anxiety shot through the roof.
His skin crawled as he heard heavy footsteps approaching the cell. A sigh followed as he saw an inmate being brought inside.
The man towered over Bruce while his skin was covered in thick tattoos, one standing out as a boldly texted "B" was seared on the side of his face.
His skin was pale, his body skinny but arms annoyingly toned, hinting that he was a skilled combatant.
Dark brown eyes and short black hair, along with a white shirt and grey shorts.
His tired eyes and calm aura hinted at a dangerously powerful and curated killer. Bruce was in some deep shit.
Unlike Bruce, the inmate was ushered in calmly, uncuffed, and was left alone with Bruce.
He scratched his neck obsessively, his nails digging into his skin as he did, and suddenly sat next to Bruce, spooking him.
Although his face said otherwise, Bruce was scared for his life. His constant flinching and subtle glances at the walls indicated such.
"Hey..." the man spoke, his voice dry and hoarse. "I'm Tony... What's your name, buddy?"
Bruce swallowed his saliva, stretching his collar for some air. "Bruce..."
Tony smiled eerily. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Y'know, ya look familiar..."
Suddenly, Bruce's senses flared as he ducked and rolled, dodging a wall-shaking punch from Tony.
His fist sizzled as he looked at Bruce nonchalantly. "I'm impressed you were able to dodge that... You... You're a fighter, aren't you?"
'Fine, if you won't help me, I'll fight my way out!'
Bruce took a fighting stance, his centre of gravity lowered and position solid.
Tony groggily stood up and stretched his arms. "Mr Vincent said I'd get time off if you died. Sorry, but could you die for me?"
Bruce smiled nervously. "Dude, I'm not about to become the Harley Quinn to your Joker mentality."
"Too bad..."
Tony closed the gap between him and Bruce, another punch ready to land. Bruce instinctively lifted his arms and blocked the attack.
The force was so powerful that it sent him staggering backwards, hitting his back on the bars of the cell and grunting on impact.
Tony didn't stop as he threw a barrage of attacks, Bruce dodging and parrying.
One hit landed on his stomach, making him gag and his eyes widen. Then, Tony sent another punch across his face, sending him to the floor.
'Get the fuck up, damnit!'
Tony tried placing his size 8 sneaker straight into Bruce's face, but he dodged and front flipped, landing on his feet and dodging another punch.
Suddenly, he remembered one skill that could help him in this situation...
「Charging Power Fist (lvl.1)...」
「15 seconds to completion...」
'Oh, fuck you, system!'
While it continued to charge, Bruce threw hits of his own, Tony swaying with little to no effort, and grabbed Bruce's wrist.
He then lifted him off the ground and grabbed his face with his free hand, slamming him onto the wall with a loud thud.
Bruce coughed up blood and felt his head buzzing as Tony backed away, his creepy smile still plastered on his face.
"You are a fighter indeed, but ya ain't got nothing on me!"
「Power Fist fully charged!」
「Uses Charged: 1/1」
Bruce chuckled and wiped the blood off his lips before standing up, his right fist bulging with veins and an otherworldly power.
"Shut your lame ass up."
Bruce then charged towards Tony after learning his pattern.
Tony swung in a wide arc with his right foot forward while his left arm threw the punch. As such, Bruce dodged to the right and slammed his fist straight into Tony's face.
Tony's teeth shattered on impact, sending him flying across the cell as he hit his head.
He groaned and his eyes twitched, slowly fading into unconsciousness while Bruce took deep and heavy breaths.
He fell on his ass and sighed loudly. "Fuuuuuck!"
Somehow, he managed to survive.
「Host, rejoice!」
'Where the fuck have you been?!'
「Doing some shady stuff. You'll thank me later」
'What are you-'
"Hey, what's all that commotion?"
Before Bruce could finish his thought, an elderly man's voice called out, approaching the cell.
His eyes landed on the guarding officer, who winced as they both looked at Bruce and the unconscious Tony.
Clearly, a fight had broken out, which wasn't out of the ordinary for inmates.
But what shocked the officer was seeing how Bruce was covered in bruises, even though Tony was the one who was out cold.
He turned to the young guard. "What's happening over here, officer?"
"I-it's the kid we brought in earlier..."
"Mh," the old man grunted. "Where's his process? Files and all."
"Well..."
The officer scratched the back of his head while his senior sighed. "You, come to the front desk."