20th Bullet: The Black Wolf Beneath the Crescent Moon ➀

Wade Alfonso lived by three rules in his life:

1. You're the most important in the room.

2. The opinions of others are nothing.

3. Money makes the mightiest shake.

By these three rules, he had lived the past years of his life in women, wealth and easy coasting. His father, Damian Alfonso, was the richest man in the city and one of the richest across the Badlands, if not, the whole Afterlife. That Sultan family close and so did the Han Clan but the Alfonso's had the biggest gold mine in the whole Badlands. They carried and held the economy in their palms so most of everyone obeyed their orders. Despite this overwhelming factor, his moronic father didn't approve of his actions. They damn near had the world in their hands and yet his father just wouldn't open his eyes to anything.

Wade paced back and forth in the luxurious and well-designed room. It was mainly maroon and marble pillars kept the tall ceilings up. On the large couch was a tied up Vadars. He was pissed but Wade didn't care. He was the most important in the room.

"You're not actually gonna kill me, are you?" Vadars asked. His voice was plain and simple like he was asking which day of the week it was. His body, however, wasn't as calm and plain. He was bruised all over, cuts dressing his nose and lip and a huge swelling by his eye.

"Of course I am. You pushed me into that puddle and the woman that was with me, left me!" He kicked a table over. "After that, all my friends laughed at me like a clown!" He glared over Vadars. "A clown! I am not a clown, do you hear me?"

Vadars looked at him with a raised brow before nodding slowly. "Sureeee, totally not a clown." 

"Yes! Exactly that." Wade crouched thought carefully. "In order to erase that image, I'll have to erase you."

"You know, there's healthier ways of sorting this out. Like, you know, talking to a therapist." And me breaking your jaw with the heel of my shoe.

Wade stood up. "Can't do. Why am I even talking to you? A Killright?" He scoffed. "I must've really fallen short."

"Does everyone have anti-Killright mentality in this city?"

"Navier just so happen to be one of the biggest."

"You and him close?"

Wade looked off and picked up the table. "Not quite. He's just a roach in the downtown slums. I could really care less if he lived or died."

"And the gangs? Aren't those a threat to your easy life?"

Wade chuckled. "You don't seem to get it. I own everyone here. If I die, the economy falls to the ground and San Fran goes along with it. My father is nothing more than a senile old coot who has a foot in the grave. When he dies, I inherit everything he owns and I'll rise above all."

Vadars scowled and Wade offered the same look before kicking him in the face. Vadars gave a glare but a man appeared behind Wade. He was tall and fierce. A huge scar crossed his face, his huge body wrapped tightly in a suit. Enough with Wade's nonsense, Vadars ripped the ropes apart and charged at Wade. 

The rich boy cowered but an arm barricaded him before lifting Vadars off the ground and slamming the Killright into the ground. He rolled on the floor, his body aching in pain. He tried to launch a kick but it was caught and he was beaten further into he couldn't fight back.

"This is about the fifth time you've tried escaping. Do I need to remind you that you shouldn't try attacking me when Hugo is around?" Wade questioned. "He's the best bodyguard I have. An ex-mercenary, multiple war soldier and hell of a fighter; he'll end you with just a snap of my fingers." He crouched down and struck Vadars with a closed fist. "I suggest you don't try to break out of your restrains again, street urchin."

As long as Hugo was around, he couldn't lay a finger on Wade. Vadars had met tough guys before like Feast but Hugo was experienced. He knew where to hit and just how to hit him. His overwhelming power was no joke either, only adding more to his dominance. Maybe he should've attacked Wade when he had the chance, but no, he had to have let his guard down. His body ached and he was soon tied up again and carried.

Wade checked his watch. "Is the guillotine ready?" 

Hugo tapped his earpiece, repeated the question and a look of unease washed over his face before soaking back in. "They said it's not ready."

"What?" he barked. "It's not ready? Why isn't it?"

"Such short notice," Hugo replied. "It's been jammed by the amount of times it's been used. They said they shouldn't have used it so many times."

Wade's face twisted in rage before kicking a table and stomping on it, cursing out in the furbished room as if dirtying such a beautiful place. His anger died down as his sweat started to appear. He pushed back his blond hair and squeezed his tie. "You'll live for now. It just means I can make your execution more grand. Tell the whole of San Fran about it. In three days, this Killright's head will roll to the floor and staked." He left to his room, not wanting to lose anymore face.

Vadars sighed but he was quickly lifted up by Hugo and carried to the jail room. He was chucked into the dark, cold room and groaned in pain as he could feel the metal taste of blood in his mouth and a loose tooth. He felt miserable and his face felt heavy. The only thing he had left was his earring that Tilly gave him. He remembered Brinehook and the strength came back into him. 

If the whole of San Fran knows about it, it's bound that it'll reach the right ears. He'll get out soon.

He just needed to wait. His patience was thin.

♱♱♱

Leoria wore a tight pair of jeans, a black leather jacket and a purple scarf and sunglasses to hide her face. She carried a dark purse and paced through the streets in her black boots. She moved cautiously, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She saw a poster that showed quite a scrappy looking young man with his tousled black hair and an cross-stitch on his left cheek. Many people gathered this poster.

"Can't you believe it?" a man asked. "The execution got cancelled."

"Well, it's gonna be even bigger now. A public execution for everyone to see."

"Is that even legal?"

"The Alfonso family pretty much owns this city. The mayor can't do jack about it."

"Poor kid..."

"He's a Killright at that, why should we care? Best to show Death that we ain't afraid of it. They're crappy officers anyway."

"True on that. Nobody helps us out. We don't even have proper cops, not even a sheriff."

Leoria watched the murmuring crowd and kept to her trail. Janda must know him. Now, two Killrights were captured. She had to focus on rescuing the Killright Janda asked for. If she could do that, she didn't have to be under that man she called her father. She just needed to work a bit harder...

She eventually arrived in a casino and took off her glasses. Men's gaze locked onto her, some cat-calling and others just admiring her face. Ignoring them, she got to the reception inside the lobby and was greeted by the receptionist.

"Welcome to Glam's Casino. How may I assist you?"

"I want to speak with Monroe."

The receptionist face went grim. He spoke in a hush tone. "He's currently unavailable."

"Well, I need to speak with somebody," she demanded. "It's urgent. Isn't there any second-in-command?"

The receptionist bit his lip. "You can speak to me. What would you like to know?"

"I don't want to know anything. It's something I want or rather, someone."

"Who is that if I may ask?"

"Andreius Isadore, the Killright you have captured.

The receptionist went pale, his skin turning cold and more sweat pouring. To Leoria, he had a real bad poker face. "Please, I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Monroe would kill me." His eyes were starting water. "Please, I can't do that, Ms. St. Francis. If I do something like that, the protection privileges on my family will go away and I... I... can't even dream about living." He crumpled and laid his head on the desk. Leoria stood over him and hugged gently, stroking his head. She kissed him on his neat hair and he gasped.

"Don't worry," Leoria whispered, "you'll be fine. By the time everything is over, Monroe won't even exist anymore. Your family won't be hurt. You just have to tell me and wait it out."

The receptionist began to cry silent tears. "T-talk to Rake... We're keeping him there, in the underground." He sniffled. It was almost pathetic, just like the same way she begged to Janda. She felt hopeless, getting onto someone's knees, especially to someone like him. Alas, in this world, you have to do whatever it takes to live, from licking someone's boots to giving potentially false hope to some kid who wants to protect his family.

All because of the horrid monster that was called her father.

"Thanks a mill, darling."

♱♱♱ 

Akio flipped through multiple files and documents. Reports, photos, alibis, nothing. Nothing on Hanze-fi and nothing on Q. It was like Q themself just didn't exist, like some fading memory or complete story meant to fool with them. She laid back in her chair and gazed out the window of the hotel room. She had gone over to the missing Uvo's room to get the collecting-dust files and try to get something out of it herself. She went around town square to ask about anyone named Q but everyone just looked at her funny.

She undid another button, her collarbone showing and her eyes crying for sleep. Her coat rested on the bed. For the past three hours, she had been seated at this chair non-stop looking for a basically non-existent entity. Perhaps Q was one person or a whole group entirely. They fund three major criminals with guns and somehow isn't even a whisper amongst the normal crowd.

She picked up a blurry photograph of a shadowy figure in an alleyway. Perhaps she should check out downtown...

A hand snatched the photo and Akio whipped around to see Zelpha looking out the photo.

"Epsilon sure has some cheap photographers." She looked harder but couldn't come to a conclusion. "Jeez, this is impossible to see."

"Give it back." Akio tried to reach for it but Zelpha's longer limbs assisted to keep the photo out of reach.

"No way, hon. You look like a corpse. Did you come straight outta the Morgue or what?"

Akio glared and snatched it out. "My condition is none of your concern. If you're not gonna help me, go sleep with someone while the important people do the actual stuff."

Zelpha sighed. "You always treat your superior's like this? You won't even say my name or call me, 'Miss Laylock' anymore."

The short Killright rubbed her temple and turned back to the files, analysing and skimming each one in great detail.

"You're working too hard," Zelpha commented.

Akio didn't look up.

Zelpha walked over and placed both hands on the desk, looking over her colleague's shoulder. "Have you tried the locations on where he has been?"

Akio was deeply focused on a photo to even notice her personal bubble being penetrated. "N-no..." she started to phase out of her laser focus state. What a rookie mistake, not checking the locations. She suddenly felt Zelpha's hair on her shoulder and her smooth skin near her hand. She looked away and spotted something odd. She spotted what seemed to be a business man. He was familiar, short hair and a wise face standing next to a shadowy figure. Despite it all, the darkness and the multiple citizens in the bustling streets, she saw it.

It was Damian Alfonso.

"I think I just got a lead..." Akio whispered.

Zelpha grinned and looked at her. "You little detective." 

Akio looked at her.

Zelpha looked back.

Their breaths collided.

Akio swayed back to get her coat and Zelpha cleared her throat. 

"Sorry about that," the Lieutenant tried to brush off. "I'm not really the most spatially aware..."

Akio ignored her and headed to the door. "We... have work to do, Miss Laylock."

She pushed the door open and continued the investigation.