Third Person’s POV
THE WIND was cold. The surroundings were quiet and dark, and only the rustling of leaves could be heard.
Not far away, there was a group of people who had been observing an old building for some time.
“Stephen, aren’t we going to attack yet? My fists are itching to punch someone,” Ashter muttered beside him, his face scowling as he gazed at the abandoned building just a few meters away from their hiding spot.
Stephen remained silent, knowing that his friend already knew the answer to his own question. He was just getting impatient.
He sighed and quietly observed his scattered team and friends, as well as a few of their men, while leaning on the hood of his car. Cole was not with them at the moment; he left him and the others at the mansion to guard his wife.
The security of the mansion was undoubtedly high. From the iron gate that could not easily be broken down to the CCTV cameras scattered around, monitored 24/7 by some of his men in the control room, everything was tightly guarded. There was also a red circular alarm system that would go off if any trouble arose nearby.
There were traps set around the mansion, like hidden weapons in every corner. The guards in the control room would be the ones to operate them. No one could enter without proper access, a registered fingerprint, or face recognition in the system from the gate to the mansion’s main door, a precaution set up since Nathalia arrived there. Not to mention the bulletproof window panes that could withstand any kind of bullet.
Still, it was better to be sure and alert at all times. Especially since he couldn’t watch over his wife every hour of the day. She had been in danger once, and he wouldn’t allow it to happen again.
Stephen grinned when he noticed that each of his companions was carrying something. There were whips, ropes, baseball bats, chains, daggers, knives, shurikens, katanas, and guns. Each one of them had expertise in manipulating and using the weapons they held.
However, Stephen was taken aback when the door of his leaned-on car suddenly opened, and Rhyz, the tech genius of the group, emerged from it. His attention shifted to Rhyz as he approached, carrying a laptop and wearing an earpiece on his right ear.
“Romero is on his way,” Rhyz informed him with a big grin on his face.
That’s all he needs to hear to instruct everyone to get ready. They were hidden in a concealed and dark area, waiting. Their position was just right, allowing them to see the enemies approaching.
It meant that the reapers had successfully blown up the headquarters of the Romero Mafia. Now, Romero was on his way to another one of his hideouts.
After a while, they spotted a line of approaching cars. The gate of the old building opened, and the cars entered one after another. It was their cue to move.
“Let’s go!” Stephen announced, and in a blink of an eye, they all headed towards the gate, managing to break in just before it closed.
The enemies were taken by surprise, and they were not prepared for the sudden attack. As they entered, everyone dispersed, heading in different directions to take down the scattered enemies.
But before they completely separated, Stephen reminded them of the group’s number one rule in situations like this.
“Don’t die, motherfuckers!” he shouted, and he received a chorus of the same shout from his companions.
“Hell, yeah!” they replied.
THE CARS were about to retreat and speed away when Oliver precisely targeted and hit their wheels with shurikens, causing them to stop and ruining their escape plan.
He was about to retrieve the shurikens he threw when suddenly he sensed an approaching presence from behind.
Oliver quickly turned around and hurled two shurikens at the two men who were about to attack him with a knife.
Both of them fell to the ground, clutching the area where the shurikens had deeply pierced. They both coughed up blood.
“I didn’t mean to make your lives harder, but I just don’t like being attacked from behind.” Oliver yawned, as if he were witnessing a rather drowsy event.
Simultaneously, he swiftly blocked a punch coming from his right side. “Nice try, bud.”
With a grin, he glanced at the daring attacker and tightened his grip on his fist, slowly fracturing the opponent’s bone, causing him to wince in pain.
“Attack a drunk person, but not someone who’s sleepy.”
MEANWHILE, Shantel and Ryza are fighting back-to-back.
Shantel continues to fire her gun with precision, hitting every enemy she sets her sights on with headshots.
Then, Ryza skillfully throws her chains, wrapping them around the enemies’ necks until they gasp for breath.
As the last of the enemies surrounding them finally fell, they both burst into laughter upon hearing what Oliver said through their earpieces.
“I bet you’ll have a good night’s sleep later, sleepy head,” Shantel teased.
Little did they know that there was still one more enemy lurking inside the building, observing their every move to target them, particularly Shantel.
As they were about to leave their position, Shantel felt something unusual. She quickly scanned her surroundings, and her eyes locked onto a gun barrel protruding from one of the windows in the building.
At the same moment, she saw the enemy preparing to pull the trigger. But before he could do so, he suddenly collapsed onto the cold concrete.
“I just saved your ass there, Shan. You’re welcome anyway,” Ace said with a grin while hiding and perching on a branch of one of the tall trees nearby.
He peered through the scope of his rifle and scanned the area to take down the scattered snipers one by one. His cousins were also hidden in different high spots around the area. Ace and his cousins were trained to be skilled snipers.
They really come from a family of snipers, even before his father became the head of the Carter Mafia.
“Oh, just shut up!” shouted Shantel, which Ace just ignored.
Although they may not always agree with each other, it doesn’t change the fact that they are all friends and help each other in times of need. Aside from that, the two of them are actually best friends.
ON THE other hand, Rylie relentlessly lashes out at anyone he comes across with his whip. Rylie looks like a demon punishing his servants because of how brutally and cruelly he lashes the whip on each part of the enemy’s body.
“That’s right. Kneel down and beg for mercy. But too bad, I don’t know the word mercy,” Rylie said emotionlessly as she continued to whip the enemies repeatedly. After a while, the surroundings were filled with cries and pleas for mercy.
ON THE other side, the elderly Romero quickly got out of the car, accompanied by his right-hand man. They both ran for their lives when, suddenly, gunshots filled the air.
Both of them fell to the ground, but they quickly got back up. Despite both having been shot in the right leg, they continued running in a zigzag pattern.
Ashter and Stephen calmly followed them inside the building, where the old Romero and his right-hand man went. Ashter released a series of punches at each enemy blocking their way, seemingly enjoying the satisfaction whenever one fell with a wide grin on his face.
“You see that, best friend? I told you I could be in a boxing ring,” he joked to Stephen, who ignored his remark.
Ashter made sure no enemy could get close to his close friend. Meanwhile, Stephen walked with a commanding presence, seemingly unaffected by the ongoing chaos and killings around him. His left hand remained calmly in his pocket, not holding any weapon, and his gaze was steady. It was as if he were walking on a runway despite being in the midst of a war.
Once they finally entered the building, Stephen raised his gun and fired twice. The two enemies fell on the cold cement floor, groaning in pain. Both had been shot in the legs.
The two friends approached the fallen foes. Stephen stared blankly at them with his piercing blue eyes. Ashter, on the other hand, smirked and kicked the leg of Romero’s right-hand man that had been shot. He then pulled his right hand away to create some distance and proceeded to deliver a barrage of punches. Ashter left Stephen and the old Romero behind as he dealt with his incapacitated enemy.
“Where is he?” Stephen asked with a calm tone, looking down at the leader of the Romero Mafia. Not a single emotion could be detected on his face.
Trembling with fear, the old man shook his head. “I don’t know. He just gave me orders through calls. We haven’t met since he came back,” he nervously replied.
Stephen raised his left eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by the answer he received. “You know very well that he is just using you. So why bother protecting him?”
Romero hesitated for a moment, uncertainty evident in his eyes about whether he should answer the question.
After a while, he clenched his fist and let out a forceful breath. “He has my family!”
Stephen nodded and began to walk around Romero’s position. “Do you think I am incapable of wiping out your entire bloodline? You fear him, but you have no fear of me.”
Romero remained silent, trying to appear tough. “You won’t gain anything from me, Anderson! You’re just wasting your time on someone who should be directing your attention towards the real enemy!”
Stephen stopped right in front of the elderly Romero and slowly lowered himself to kneel on his left knee. Without hesitation, he pressed the barrel of the gun into the old man’s mouth.
Romero didn’t flinch in fear, but his eyes widened with a mix of malevolence. His trembling body seemed to tremble even more, as if drained of color, turning even paler. The blood continued to flow from both of his legs.
“If I won’t gain anything from you anyway, I think it’s better if you just remain silent for the rest of your life. It might be a fitting retribution for the countless women you raped and sold into sex slavery,” Stephen said firmly.
He grabbed Romero’s hair before slowly lifting his head to look at him. “As far as I know, you started doing those things even before he came back. So, you can’t use the excuse that you did it because he has your family.”
Romero shook his head while trying to speak, but with the gun blocking his mouth, nothing coherent came out.
As Stephen’s finger brushed against the trigger, the scattered blood on his face splattered even more. He paid no attention to it.
When he stood up, he was no longer surprised when someone suddenly handed him a handkerchief. He immediately took it and swiftly wiped his face.
“Oh, come on, Stephen! Can you at least make it not so bloody next time? We’ll have to clean up so much again!” complained Amelia as she glanced around and pointed towards the warehouse’s exit.
Stephen gently tapped her shoulder. “I’ll try, but I will not make a promise.”
Stephen turned around and started walking away. Ashter followed him, whistling with both hands placed behind his head. Amelia just shook her head.
As they exited, Stephen looked around and noticed that the cleaning team had started to tidy up. Everyone had their own black plastic bags to put the bodies in.
Stephen grinned when he saw the scattered blood. Now he understood why Amelia was so annoyed with him.
“Where to, Steph?” Stephen gave his close friend a disapproving look because of the nickname.
“Don’t call me like that! It’s too girly!” Stephen retorted, pointing the gun at Ashter.
“Woah! I’m just joking!” Ashter raised both hands in surrender, laughing.
“Whatever you say.” Stephen returned to his poker face.
“But seriously, where are we going? Is it time to go home?” Some of their friends started approaching as Ashter asked again.
Stephen paused and looked serious. “You guys go ahead. I still need to find something.”
His response puzzled some of them, especially Ashter, who was about to ask further questions but got interrupted by someone else who had just arrived and called out to Stephen.
Why is this guy always late? Ashter wondered to himself.
“What did you find?” Stephen asked immediately, showing concern and confusion on his face.
A mix of worry and confusion was evident on the newcomer’s face. “It’s not there.”
“What?” Stephen replied in utter surprise.
Where the hell is that thing, then? he thought.