Inside some shady alley:
"You bitch. Didn't I tell you to sell all the dope by tonight?" A thug barked as he slapped a girl in front of him.
The slap echoed through the alley as the girl staggered back, clutching her cheek.
Around her, five other thugs stood like it was a live-action sitcom—grinning, sneering, waiting for the next blow. None of them moved to help. Of course they didn't.
"S-sorry, Vince," the girl sobbed. "Please… just a little more time. I'll sell the rest—I swear—I'll get your money."
She looked barely alive under that oversized hoodie. Gaunt face, twitching hands, sunken eyes with dark rings etched like bruises. Her lips were cracked. Her skin was pale, almost grey.
Vince didn't care. He never did.
"Oh, you'll give me my money," he muttered, voice low with venom. "Now. Whatever you've made."
The girl nodded frantically, pulling a crumpled stack of bills from her pocket with trembling fingers. Vince snatched it without a word.
He counted—a few hundred.
"That's it?" he growled, his jaw twitching. "You sold just this much?"
Vince looked menacingly at the girl, who only cowered under his gaze.
She shrank under his stare like a kicked dog. "S-sorry, Vince…"
"How much is left? Show me," he ordered.
Panic flared in her eyes. She froze.
"Vince, please, I'll get it all. You'll get every cent," she said frantically.
"Why even ask her?" one of the thugs snorted. "She probably snorted half the stash herself."
The others cackled.
Vince didn't. He looked at the girl like he was ready to strangle her.
"Is that true?" Vince asked in an eerily calm tone.
The girl flinched, repeating herself like a broken record. "You'll get your money. I promise. You'll get—"
"You damned crackhead bitch, you dare steal from me," Vince roared as he struck her again.
The second slap sent her to the ground, hair falling over her face as she whimpered. She lay there, curled up, praying for the moment to end.
But Vince wasn't done.
He took a step forward—
But stopped as he heard footsteps.
Someone was coming.
Vince turned toward the alley's entrance, and when he saw who it was, his scowl curled into a sneering grin.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't our dear friend Marko," he said, mock-welcoming.
His crew turned with the same gleam in their eyes, like hyenas spotting fresh meat.
"H-hey, Vince," Marko stuttered. His eyes were filled with fear as he looked at Vince, his last beating still vivid in his mind.
As he walked towards them, Marko looked at the girl sprawled on the ground. He remembered seeing her once before with Vince and his gang, desperately begging Vince to sell her her next fix, like many of his other customers.
He could see the slap marks on her face, but ignored her. He felt pity for her, but he didn't have the luxury to care for a junkie when he was already in deep shit himself.
"My dear Marko," Vince said theatrically. "I'd offer you a seat, but as you can see, I'm entertaining a guest."
"N-no problem, Vince. Sorry for… interrupting," Marko stammered.
Vince's smile widened. "Interrupt? Never. I always make time for friends. Especially generous and loyal ones like you. We are friends, right, Marko?"
"Yes, absolutely, you are right, Vince," Marko nodded in fear.
"Good. I'd hate to be disappointed," Vince laughed as he patted Marko on the shoulder.
Marko winced in pain due to the force, but stayed silent.
Marko wanted to leave the place as quickly as possible, so he pulled out the cash from his pocket and offered it to Vince.
"H-here, Vince… I brought this for you. I know things are tough right now, so… maybe this helps a bit…" Marko said with hesitation. He still remembered his last painful lesson and didn't use any words that might trigger his 'friends'.
Vince took the money and counted it slowly, savoring the moment. And showed a satisfied smile when he found it was complete, one grand that he had asked as a 'loan' from his 'friend'.
"See, boys, this is what a good friend looks like," Vince said with a smile.
His fellow thugs all showed mocking smirks, hearing that. They chimed in with fake praises.
"Well said."
"Absolutely."
"You are the man, Marko."
"Marko the Magnificent!"
Marko heard the sarcasm, but just couldn't do anything about it.
"Alright, Vince. Now, I should leave, I don't want to intrude anymore in your business," Marko said hurriedly and turned around. He didn't want to stay any longer.
But then—
"Where do you think you're going, Marko?"
Marko froze. The color drained from his face.
And the smile vanished from Vince's.
Marko turned around hesitantly. The fear and dread were prominent on his face.
"I-is… something the matter?" he asked, his voice barely holding together.
"Of course, it is," Vince said, showing a predatory smile.
Marko's instincts screamed at him to run—but he didn't. He knew better. Running now would just mean a beating later.
So, he forced himself back—each step heavier than the last—until he stood in front of Vince again.
Marko's hands trembled as he forced himself to meet Vince's gaze. He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "I… d-did you need something else, Vince?"
He knew saying that was the same as placing his head in an alligator's mouth. But what else could he say? If he said something that might trigger Vince, he would be beaten again.
"That's why I consider you my best friend, Marko," Vince stated with a wide smile. "You just know when I need something. Without me even saying it."
Marko just stood there, dread sinking into every part of him. His stomach churned. He was having a bad feeling about it.
"And hey—if you ever get a girlfriend?" Vince added, voice slick with sarcasm, "I bet she'll love how attentive you are."
The thugs burst out laughing.
"And if she's not satisfied, just send her to us," one leered. "We'll show her what real men are like."
"Yeah, Marko. We are your friends. It is our responsibility as your friends to keep your girl satisfied so that she won't leave your sorry ass," another thug said with a mocking smirk.
"Hell, you should be grateful to us, as we will teach her how to satisfy a man properly," another thug said with a tone as if he were doing a massive favour to Marko. Then he continued with a loud laugh, "Of course, whether you will be able to satisfy her after that will be a different matter."
All the thugs laughed, listening to that. Marko knew they were laughing at him, not with him. But he still pretended they were laughing with him and showed a smile. However, the smile looked worse than crying.
"Alright, enough," Vince said, still chuckling. The thugs shut up instantly. It demonstrated his considerable control over his group.
"We can talk about Marko's girlfriend after he introduces her to us. But first, we have more pressing matters to discuss," Vince continued with a smile.
Marko didn't speak and only waited for Vince to continue. He desperately prayed in his heart that it would not be another unreasonable demand.
"As you guessed, Marko. I do need another favour from my friend," Vince said, emphasizing the word friend.
Marko wet his lips nervously, his voice thin with forced calm, but it couldn't hide the stutter in it. "W-what is it, Vince?"
"You see this skank lying there," Vince said as he kicked the girl at his feet.
The girl was just lying there, curled up, waiting for the thugs to leave so she could escape, hoping Vince would forget their earlier discussion until then. The kick made her jolt and cry out, curling tighter into herself.
Marko instinctively turned to face the girl, and for a moment their eyes met. But he quickly turned his gaze away. His eyes showed guilt. He wanted to stand up for her, but felt weak and helpless.
"This bitch was supposed to bring me at least a grand for selling my merchandise," Vince said in a slow voice.
Vince paused for a moment. That pause felt like an eternity for both Marko and the girl.
"Wanna guess how much she brought?" Vince asked, locking eyes with him.
"I-I don't know," Marko muttered.
"Two. Fucking. Hundred." Another kick. Another pained yelp.
Marko flinched and shook in fear as he saw the angry scowl on Vince's face.
"Oh, don't be afraid, Marko. I am not angry at you. I am angry at this thieving bitch," Vince said with a disarming smile.
But instead of calming Marko, that made him panic more about what was about to come.
Looking at Marko's scared face, he showed a cruel smirk, which immediately turned into a mock sad smile.
"You know, I had all these plans. Things I was gonna buy. Shit I needed to take care of. But all of that went down the drain. Isn't it pitiful?" Vince said, sadly.
Vince looked at Marko meaningfully, and Marko understood what Vince wanted to hear.
"C-can I help… somehow?" Marko's jaw clenched as the words forced themselves out. He unconsciously clutched his pockets hard.
Vince lit up like he'd just been handed a winning lottery ticket.
"See? That's why you're my real friend, Marko." He gave the girl another kick—this one lazy, like an afterthought. "She failed me. But you? I know you won't let me down."
"So, I was hoping you could loan me another grand," Vince said, so casually, as if he asked for a ten-dollar loan.
Marko's eyes widened, and his heart nearly stopped. The thing he dreaded the most happened.
"B-but, V-Vince, you said that today was the last time," Marko said with hesitation.
Vince didn't answer; instead, he punched Marko in the solar plexus. Marko's knees buckled as he knelt in pain.
Vince grabbed Marko's hair in a fist and asked in a low but intimidating voice, "Are you refusing me, Marko?"
"But, you promised. I don't have any more money," Marko tried to explain in a weak voice.
But all he got was another punch in the stomach from Vince.
"Marko, why do you want to suffer? Did you forget your previous lesson so soon?" Vince asked, and once again, punched him in the stomach.
Marko sniffled as tears fell due to the pain. Vince loosened his grip on Marko's hair. As Marko was feeling weak due to the pain and beating, his head fell on Vince's legs. But Marko still didn't stop requesting that Vince let him go.
"I-I-I… ah, I, c-can't, Vince. P-please. I—please—don't ask me that," Marko begged desperately.
Vince felt a sadistic pleasure rise inside him as he looked at the groveling fool in front of him.
There was something deliciously satisfying about watching a rich boy from a prestigious university—son of a well-known businessman—reduced to this.
Begging.
Crying.
Covered in tears and snot, kneeling in an alley like a dog.
He glanced at his boys. They watched with sneers and mockery in their eyes, loyal and entertained. His crew wasn't large yet, but they feared him, and that was enough.
For now.
'Not for long,' Vince thought.
He was not satisfied with being a small fish fighting for crumbs at the border. He wanted to fight against the bigger fishes in the centre. He wanted to dominate them just like he dominated Marko. He wanted to sit on the bones of every gang.
'It is merely the beginning. I am the man who is going to become the king of New York's underworld. Even Kingpin will have no other way but to either die or kneel in front of me,' Vince daydreamed.
'How could I let you go, huh? You're practically funding my rise to the throne,' Vince thought, sneering internally, as he looked at Marko.
"Vince, please. Please, let me go, please," Marko continued begging without stopping when he saw that Vince didn't respond to him.
"Marko, Marko, Marko," Vince said, finally stopping his thoughts. "You wound my heart, my friend."
Marko's face was already covered in tears and snot, but he didn't stop begging.
"I-I swear, I gave everything I had. Please…" Marko said in a choked voice.
"Marko, don't you know me?" Vince said as if lightly chiding a child.
"I am your understanding friend. I believe you. I believe you don't have any money, so you can't loan me anymore." His words dripped with fake empathy.
For a moment, Marko blanked.
He suddenly felt a surge of hope in his heart. He believed that if he requested Vince, he would understand.
Marko felt maybe he'd misjudged Vince all along.
'Maybe, he is a good friend,' Marko thought with a slight hope.
Vince saw the hope on Marko's face and sneered inside.
"I understand you don't have that much money," Vince agreed. The hope increased on Marko's face as he wiped his snot and tears with his sleeve. But Vince's following words crushed that seed of hope inside him.
"But your dad should have, right?" Vince asked curiously, and his smile turned into a ruthless smirk. "As the owner of a well-known taxi service company, I am sure he wouldn't mind increasing his son's allowance."
Marko felt he was so close to the door of hope. He thought freedom waited behind that door. But it only led to deeper despair.
"W-what…?" Marko stammered.
"No. No, no—it's impossible. My dad wouldn't give me that kind of money," Marko blurted.
Vince's expression turned cold.
He grabbed Marko by the collar and yanked him up, then drove his fist straight into Marko's gut.
Marko gasped, his knees folding as the air was knocked from his lungs. He looked up, lips trembling. "Please, Vince…"
"Don't you know me, Marko? I don't like to be denied," Vince said, looking in Marko's eyes as he lightly slapped his face.
Then his fingers clamped onto Marko's face, digging into his cheeks.
"You're a smart kid, right? Empire State University and all that," he sneered. "Put that big brain to work. Figure out a solution."
He shoved Marko back.
Marko hit the ground, coughing. "Please… please, Vince… I can't…"
He wished futilely that it was all just a bad dream.
But his wish remained unfulfilled as a kick on his shoulder made him cry in pain.
Vince clicked his tongue and crouched down to be on Marko's eye level.
"Hey, pig—did your daddy bribe the admissions board? Because you sure aren't acting like a genius," Vince mocked.
Marko didn't reply. He couldn't. His face was pale, sweat clinging to his skin.
Vince sighed dramatically. "Guess I'll have to spell it out."
"I am sure your father wouldn't notice if he is missing a few grands…" Vince paused as he looked Marko meaningfully, and then continued, finally tearing open all pretenses, "...every once in a while."
Marko immediately understood what Vince meant. He started shaking in fear.
"No… please, Vince, don't—don't make me do this. Please, Vince, let me go," Marko begged, voice cracking.
Vince shook his head as he stood up. "Boys, teach him why he should be obedient to me."
The thugs smiled ruthlessly as they approached Marko and started beating him. However, they ensured that none of them struck him in any visible areas.
No visible bruises. No broken bones.
Just pain.
Calculated pain.
'This tub of lard doesn't have the balls to report us,' Vince thought as he watched Marko being beaten with a satisfied grin.
As long as the thugs didn't leave any easily visible marks, they beat him up without hesitation.
But not too much to actually cripple him; they still needed their 'investor' to remain functional, …and afraid.
Punches and kicks rained down on Marko as he curled into himself, shivering on the ground.
The beating stopped only when Vince raised a hand. The thugs stepped back, stretching like they'd just finished a light workout.
Vince walked over casually and crouched beside him.
"Marko," he said with mock sadness, "it hurts me to see you like this. You're my best friend—but sometimes, you just make me so angry."
Marko said nothing. His head hung low, body trembling.
Vince leaned closer. "Sometimes, I feel like I should go directly to your father. Ask him for help."
Marko's eyes flicked up, panic breaking through the numbness. He felt a chill in his spine.
"But that would make you sad. And if you're sad, I'm sad. We're close, aren't we? In this whole damn world, you're the only one who understands me."
He reached forward, gripping Marko's chin, forcing his face upward.
Marko's eyes were glassy. Empty.
Ruthlessness flashed in Vince's eyes, but he controlled himself.
"I know you want to help me, Marko," Vince whispered. He continued in a soft voice, "Come on, repeat after me, 'I will steal from my father for my friend'".
But Marko still didn't respond. He had completely tuned out what was happening outside.
'What have I done? Because of me, my family is now in danger.'
'They will hurt my father, my mother, my uncle.'
'Will this nightmare ever end?'
Marko was now having suicidal thoughts. He was close to breaking point. He just wanted to end it all. Of just letting go.
He didn't want to be the reason for the suffering of his family.
His uncle could help him, but had come clean from the world of crime. He would help him in a heartbeat without hesitation. But he didn't want to shove him back there because of his foolishness.
'I am sorry, Mom. I am sorry, Dad. I am a bad son.'
'I am sorry, Kevin. I will not be able to return your money. I don't deserve a friend like you.'
As Marko apologised to his best friend in his mind, suddenly something clicked.
'Wait, Kevin–'
He suddenly remembered the out-of-context sentence Kevin said earlier.
"If negotiation fails, flip the table."
It echoed in his mind repeatedly.
On the outside, Vince was reaching the limit of his patience as he wasn't getting any response from Marko.
Vince was growing impatient now. His smile had faded. He grabbed Marko by the neck and yanked him to his feet.
"Repeat after me, Marko," Vince ordered in a cruel voice. "I will steal from my father for my friend."
He finally got a response as Marko's blank eyes finally moved and looked at him.
"I refuse," Marko whispered. It was hoarse but firm.
"What did you say?" Vince couldn't believe his ears.
That denial was unlike Marko's previous ones. If he had begged previously, then this time he spoke with conviction. That was defiance.
It hit Vince like a slap. He felt something he hadn't felt in a long time—loss of control.
For him, who was drunk on the feeling of controlling Marko like that, it was an extremely unpleasant feeling.
It felt like betrayal.
He couldn't tolerate the fact that the guy who once flinched at eye contact was now glaring into his soul… and saying no.
"I said…" Marko panted, locking eyes with him. Then, with every ounce of strength he had left, he roared—
"I REFUSE!"
Then, without giving Vince any time to react, Marko head-butted him on his nose.
Everyone heard the sweet, sickening crack of cartilage.
Vince howled in pain as his grip loosened on Marko. His nose broke as blood flowed out.
"You damn pig!" Vince snarled, his voice filled with fury. "You dare rebel against me?!"
He kicked Marko square in the chest, sending him flying.
Marko hit the ground hard. Another bruise was added to his body, but this time, he didn't scream. He didn't cry.
"Hahaha," Marko laughed.
It started low. Then louder. Wild. Unhinged.
It hurt to breathe. His ribs burned.
But in that moment?
He was free.
Vince felt creeped out by Marko's laughter. It felt jarring in his ears.
He thought that suddenly things were not going according to plan.
He felt so angry that he wanted to kill Marko.
"Boys—!" he began to bark—
But was cut off by another voice.
Casual. Playful. Like someone arriving late to a party.
"Man, you look like shit."
*********************
Mission: Motivate the Author
Description: Gather Power Stones to fuel the Author's energy reserves and push him into overdrive. Succeed, and he will deploy one extra chapter during the corresponding week.
Objective 1: 200 Power Stones in Week 1 (Completed)
Reward: One bonus chapter for the week (Delivered)
Objective 2: 220 Power Stones in Week 2 (Completed)
Reward: One bonus chapter for the week (Delivered)
Objective 3: 250 Power Stones in Week 3
Reward: One bonus chapter for the week
Objective 4: 300 Power Stones in Week 4
Reward: One bonus chapter for the week