"I said call off your men now," Marxon roared, "or I'll fucking split your head."
Don Angel calmly shifted the blade of the axe away from his face. "Threatening me like this isn't going to do anything. I came here prepared to die, it's up to you to decide if the life of a 'rat' is worth the same as your father's."
"Angel!" Diego stepped forward and grabbed him by the collar. "Do you understand what you have just done?!"
Don Angel still maintained his mockful grin. "I haven't really done anything, I'm only a little rat remember. I'm just trying to see how far you guys are willing to go to kill this rat.
"As for me, dying here will suck, but I think knowing the great boss of the Triad is dying with me might make it a little better."
"You bastard, you think we'll just let you die? We'll torture you until you beg for death."
Diego raised his hand to punch.
"Stop!" Marxon's firm voice brought him to a halt.
"Boss, don't tell me you are actually considering letting them go?"
But Marxon remained silent, deep in thought.
"Maybe Diego here has the right idea," Don Angel said softly. "After all, I'm sure if you were in the same position you would want your son to abandon you. Too bad your old man still wants to live," he chuckled.
Marxon remained silent for a while before asking, "How do I know you'll let him go?"
"I want to say you have my word, but I don't think that alone would be enough. The truth is—you don't.
"Once I get out of here, I plan to take my men and leave the city forever. If I have your word you won't come after us, then I'll definitely keep mine."
"Boss, we shouldn't trust this man," Diego said. "Even if we let him go, we don't know what he would do."
Vincent had just been watching everything play out before him all this while.
'So this was Don Angel's plan all along. I should have expected something as bold as this, seeing that he had the mind to come here himself… but will something like this be enough to convince him?'
Marxon sighed and dropped down into his chair. His voice was calmer now. "What if I say 'fuck it,' kill you, then hunt down your men and kill all of them? That seems like a better option at this point."
"Or… you let me go and save your father?"
"The truth is that I came here to see if there was any way we could end this peacefully. The last thing I want is a war with the Triad—it's a war I can't win. Now the only other option I have is to leave the city, and I'd prefer to do that with your good grace."
"Why don't we decide this another way?" Don Angel added.
"What do you mean?"
"We can gamble. You own a casino, right? So you must be a gambling man. Why don't we gamble?"
"What's the bet?" Marxon asked, slightly curious.
"Bring me any of your men to fight. If I win, you let us go. If you win, I call off my men and you still get to take my life."
"That sounds interesting," Marxon said.
Diego didn't agree. "Boss, we can't let this bastard go, we have to kill him now."
"So people would say I killed my father for my position?" Marxon shot him a look. "I wouldn't have something like this affect my succession.
"But I only said it's an interesting idea. I never said I was doing it. I know about your history, Don Angel you trained in Russia for years before coming here. There aren't many people who can take down someone of your level."
'Russia' Vincent wondered, it was the first time hearing anything that concerned Don Angel's past.
"Okay then, what about this—my guy here will fight."
"Me?!" Vincent asked, surprised.
"Yes. You don't know him, right?"
Marxon gave Vincent a quick glance. "Tempting… but I'm not sure if it's a good idea."
"Then why don't I sweeten the deal for you? He won't use any weapon, while your man can use whatever weapon he chooses."
Marxon only gave it a moment of thought before a wide grin tore across his face.
"You, what's your name?" he asked.
"Vincent."
He truly hadn't heard that name before, which meant Vincent was new to the criminal world. The idea of someone like him going against men who had been in the game for years was simply far too bold.
He was, after all, a gambling man—and it might as well be a crime to pass up a bet like this, where the odds were stacked entirely in his favor.
"You really are something, Don Angel… fine, I agree to your bet."
"Thank you. But I do have one request—that you let him pick his opponent."
"Boss—" Diego started, but was once again silenced by Marxon.
"Fine, I'll allow it. Just make sure to keep your word," he said calmly.
'What the hell is going on right now?' Even after hearing everything, Vincent was struggling to believe it.
'Did Don Angel just wager both our lives on a fight?'
"Boss, are you sure?" Vincent wondered.
"It's fine, just choose anybody," Don Angel said as he got up from his seat.
He added in a low tone, "Just don't choose anyone in this place."
'What did he mean by that?' Vincent wondered.
He looked at all the men present—and in truth, none of them looked weaker than the others. They all looked like professionals, and to think he was expected to go against one without a weapon…
'How is he expecting me to know who to go against? Just what is this mad man thinking?!'
Vincent pondered deeply.
"So, what are you saying? Have you made your choice yet?" Marxon asked.
Vincent considered choosing Diego, since he looked less intimidating than the others. But knowing he was second-in-command meant he was likely just as dangerous—if not more so.
'Why did Don Angel tell me not to pick any of the men present? Is there really not one of them here I can fight?'
That was when he remembered someone else he knew from the Triad, someone who wasn't here right now.
"Alen... Can I choose Alen?" he asked.