A few streets away, the oppressive silence pressed down like a suffocating shroud, swallowing every stray sound before it could reach the ears. The faint hum of distant traffic, the occasional bark of a stray dog, even the rustle of leaves in the wind—all were absent here, replaced by a heavy stillness that seemed to hold the world in suspended animation. The cracked pavement beneath was cold and unyielding, mirroring the weight settling in Benny's chest. The sky overhead was a dull gray, the kind of overcast that seemed to drain color from everything it touched, leaving the world muted and lifeless.
"I really need to... upgrade," Benny murmured, her voice barely more than a fragile whisper, cracked and raw as if the words themselves were a confession too heavy to bear. Her breath came shallow, uneven, as if the very act of speaking drained her. Her eyes, glassy and unfocused, stared at nothing in particular, lost in a haze of exhaustion and despair. The chill in the air bit at her skin, but she barely noticed, wrapped in the numbness that had settled over her like a second skin.
Jabez stopped abruptly and looked down at her, his gaze sharp, unreadable, a mixture of concern and frustration flickering behind his eyes. His jaw tightened as he took in her slumped form, the way her fingers twitched slightly, tracing invisible patterns on the rough concrete, seeking some anchor in the bleakness. "Oh, Benny. What exactly are you doing lying on the cold, unforgiving ground?" His voice was low, edged with something like disbelief, but also a hint of tenderness that he tried to mask.
"Just lying around a bit," she replied weakly, the words slipping out like a sigh, her body slumped as if the weight of the world bore down on her alone. Her shoulders shook slightly, betraying the tremor of tears she refused to shed. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, filled with unspoken words and fractured trust.
Jabez snorted softly, a sound tinged with disbelief and something darker—perhaps disappointment. "Oh, fantastic. Tell me, my lifelong partner... could you explain why I feel like we're not partners anymore? Like we're drifting apart in silence?" His eyes searched hers, looking for a flicker of the connection they once shared, but found only shadows.
"We are," Benny answered, but the conviction faltered, her voice trembling. She avoided his gaze, her shoulders sagging under an invisible weight, as if the very air around her had thickened into chains that bound her in place. The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but she clung to it desperately.
"Just kidding," Jabez waved it off with a forced grin, but his eyes remained cold, sharp as knives. "I know you'd rather spend time with Mayex. But let me ask you this: Are you ready to die?" The question hung in the air like a guillotine blade, sharp and final.
Benny's heart hammered violently in her throat, each beat echoing like a warning drum. A fierce impulse urged her to look away, to escape the intensity of his stare, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. If she looked away now, everything would shatter irrevocably. The raw vulnerability in his eyes unsettled her, stirring a tempest of guilt and fear.
Suddenly, Jabez laughed—a dry, joyless sound that seemed to scrape the walls. "Relax, just a joke. Why do you always take everything so seriously? Maybe that's why you're falling apart right now." His voice was laced with bitterness, a mask for his own pain.
"I'm falling apart just because I'm alarmed?" she snapped, the sharpness in her voice betraying the turmoil inside. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms as if to ground herself.
"You're falling back because you don't respond," Jabez replied, his tone flat and unyielding, the finality in his words cutting deeper than any blade.
Benny turned away, her breath catching as her thoughts drifted to a distant place, far from this gray, cracked pavement. She had always dreamed of being a teacher, of standing in a sunlit classroom filled with eager faces, the smell of chalk dust and old books mingling in the air. She had told Mayex more than once, but his answer was always the same: *Forget it.* The words echoed in her mind like a cruel refrain, a door slammed shut before it could even open. The memory of that dismissal stung sharper than any wound, a reminder of hopes crushed beneath harsh realities.
At that moment, the group began to gather, their movements urgent and purposeful. Benny immediately straightened up, wiping the dust from her clothes as if shaking off the weight of her doubts. Her eyes hardened with resolve, the flicker of hope rekindling in the depths of her gaze. The cold wind tugged at her hair, whipping strands across her face, but she barely noticed, focused entirely on the task ahead.
Melon stepped forward, phone still clutched tightly in her hand, her eyes sharp and commanding. "I got a call from Mayex. They found the red-haired girl. EVERYONE: grab your weapons. We leave no one behind. Get ready, we're moving to the signal Mayex sent!" Her voice cut through the tension like a clarion call, igniting a spark of adrenaline in the group.
***
The rhythmic pounding of a heartbeat seemed to fill the room, a relentless drum that matched the tension thickening the air. Patrick held Mayex's hands tightly, his grip firm but not cruel, as he shoved him into the gym with hard, determined steps. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting harsh shadows that danced across the peeling walls, the air thick with the scent of sweat, dust, and something metallic—fear.
Mayex's eyes darted around, searching desperately until they locked onto Nacy. Their gazes met—cold, calculating, and unyielding, like two predators sizing each other up in a silent standoff.
"So," Nacy began coolly, her voice slicing through the silence like a blade, "who are you?" Her tone was deceptively calm, but the sharpness beneath it was unmistakable.
"My name is Mayex," he answered firmly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside. "And I want to join your gang. I don't want to be part of the Brown organization anymore." His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his decision.
A shocked gasp rippled through the room, the tension snapping taut. Boran and Adam stared at him in disbelief, their expressions a mixture of betrayal and confusion. The room seemed to shrink around them, the walls closing in as the fragile balance shattered.
"How dare you—" Boran started, but Jerry stepped forward before he could finish, slamming his boot into Boran's face with brutal force. "No one gave you permission to speak!" he barked, his voice cold and commanding, silencing the room instantly.
Nacy tilted her head, studying Mayex with a predator's scrutiny. Her eyes gleamed with a dangerous light, sharp and unblinking. "Mayex. Strange name. It doesn't suit you... you don't look like a Mayex. Are you hiding something from me?" Her words were a challenge, a test.
"You're reading too much into it," Mayex replied calmly, though his heart pounded fiercely. "I want to belong to you. Please, let me be part of your family." His plea was sincere, desperate.
A leaden silence fell over the room, heavy and suffocating, as if the very walls were holding their breath. The only sound was the faint drip of blood from a fresh wound somewhere in the distance.
"Do you take me for a fool, Mayex?" Nacy finally asked, her voice low and dangerous. "I can see it in your eyes. You're just buying time. That's brave of you, and I'd really like someone like you in my crew. But unfortunately, you're not serious." Her words cut through the silence like a knife.
With a fluid, almost graceful motion, she drew a knife from her belt. The blade caught the dim light, gleaming cold and merciless. Before anyone could react, the blade sliced across Elara's right eye. Blood welled up instantly, hot and vivid, running down her face in stark contrast to her pale skin. Pain twisted Elara's features, but she pressed her lips together and made no sound, her silence louder than any scream.
Nacy's lips curled into a cruel smile, a predator savoring her prey. "Well, girl, you're truly interesting. No reaction? Let's see if that applies to your friends too." Her voice was a venomous whisper, promising more torment.
Boran and Adam could no longer bear the torment.
"If you want to kill us, then just do it!" Adam shouted desperately, his voice cracking with fear and frustration. "Stop playing these games!"
"Are you a psychopath?" Boran hissed, his anger barely contained. "Just end it if you want all four of us dead!"
"I don't want to see anyone dead," Nacy replied calmly, her eyes cold and unblinking. "I'm just giving Mayex a lesson."
All eyes turned to Mayex, but he was no longer standing. He had dropped to his knees, the weight of the moment crushing him. His breath came in shallow gasps, his hands trembling as they hovered helplessly over Elara's bloodied face.
"El... Elara?" he stammered, his gaze fixed on the blood pooling beneath her. "Elara... everything will be fine... yes... everything will be fine... definitely." His voice was barely audible, a fragile thread of hope in the darkness.
Nacy stepped closer, her presence looming over him like a dark cloud. "Mayex, I want you to buy us time to get out of here. Distract them. Lie to them, fight, cry—it doesn't matter to me. We just want you to cover our backs." She held out the bloody knife, its blade gleaming ominously. "Do it." Her eyes bore into his, unyielding.
"Elara..." he whispered, voice breaking, the weight of his helplessness crushing his spirit.
"Do it!"
"Elara..."
"Do it!"
Her words hammered against his temples, relentless and unforgiving. When Nacy noticed his hesitation, she drew her pistol and aimed it directly at Boran.
"Any last words?"
Boran stared down the barrel, defiance burning in his eyes. "Yeah... I wish I could beat the hell out of you right now."
"Keep dreaming," Nacy said, her finger tightening on the trigger.
The soft click of the gun snapped Mayex out of his trance. In one explosive motion, he was on his feet. He pressed the knife to Nacy's throat, his hands trembling with a mix of fury and desperation.
"If you dare pull that trigger, I'll kill you," he hissed, eyes narrowed with fierce determination. "And I'll do it slowly. I'm not blind—I know I'll die the second I attack you. Maybe you'll be saved, but do you really want to take that risk?"
Nacy paused, the tension crackling like electricity between them. "No. I don't. So go out there and buy us time."
"How do I know you won't kill them?" he pressed, voice barely above a whisper.
"You don't."
Mayex's grip tightened so much that his knuckles turned white. The blade cut deeper into her skin, leaving a thin, bloody line, but Nacy didn't flinch. Finally, he stepped back and stormed out, his breath ragged.
"DAMN IT!" he shouted into the void, the sound swallowed by the empty corridors.
Outside, the distant rumble of engines and the hurried retreat of other vehicles filled the air. Minutes passed like hours, each second stretching unbearably, until a convoy of cars surrounded the gym. Melon stepped out of the crowd, fixing Mayex with a hard, unreadable look.
"Will you use it?" she asked, nodding toward the knife in his hand.
"...No," he replied flatly, exhaustion and pain etched into every line of his face.
The knife slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor, the sound sharp in the heavy silence. The men rushed past him into the gym. Inside, they found Boran, Adam, and the badly bleeding Elara. Medics were called immediately, lifting Elara into a vehicle with practiced urgency.
Melon looked around the musty gym and wrinkled her nose, the stale air thick with the scent of sweat and fear. "It stinks in here. Mayex, come here."
He stepped forward and looked up, meeting her gaze. Her eyes bore into his, searching.
"Why is Elara bleeding so badly while the others are barely hurt?"
Mayex looked down, shame and helplessness twisting his gut. "The red-haired girl, Nacy... she did this to her... as a lesson for me... because I tried to outsmart her."
Melon sighed deeply, the weight of the situation settling on her shoulders. "Alright, let's get you back first—"
"BOSS! There's a dead body here!" someone shouted from the back, urgency cracking their voice.
Melon hurried over and froze, her face draining of color.
"Mayex, Boran, Adam, Benny... you all failed this first mission," she said with cutting coldness, the words like ice shards.
Before them hung the old man's body from a rope. It was staged to look like a suicide—a noose around his neck, life extinguished in a cruel, final act.
Mayex didn't react. He stood in the doorway, petrified, unable to move an inch. He heard his name called but wasn't sure he had the strength to answer.
"Mayex? Mayex! MAYEX!"
He blinked, the world slowly coming back into focus. "Huh? Oh, it's you. Hello, Benny. Is your arm okay?"
"Yeah... yeah, it is," she said softly, stepping toward him, concern etched in her voice. "But you don't look okay at all."
Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around her, seeking comfort in the only thing that felt real. Benny paused briefly, then returned the embrace firmly, grounding them both.
"Calm down, Mayex," she whispered, stroking his back gently. "It's okay. It's over."