The man with the pistol—Liber, the founder and leader of the Empire Destroyers organization—pressed the barrel harder against the informant's temple. His voice was ice. "Why did you ask for this meeting? Answer."
The informant's calm facade cracked, panic creeping into his voice. "Whoa, whoa, easy! We've met before, haven't we? Can't we talk like civilized people?"
Liber's jaw tightened. "You disrupted my operation in Hisme. Do you have any idea what those two idiots—Wells and Varkas—are doing right now? They're probably spraying bullets everywhere, and civilians are going to get caught in the crossfire."
The informant blinked, genuinely confused. "Wait... aren't you terrorists? Isn't that the whole point? Terror?"
Liber let out a cold laugh. "Terrorists? That's what they call us. That's not who we are. We've never seen ourselves that way, and we never will. What if a child dies? We still have consciences, believe it or not."
The informant gestured nervously at the gun. "Then at least lower the damn pistol."
Liber smirked. He pulled the trigger.
Click.
Nothing happened. No bullet. No blood.
"Just joking," Liber said flatly, lowering the weapon.
The informant exhaled shakily, then wiped sweat from his brow. "You son of a—never mind. Look, in about two or three days, I'll be attending a meeting about Hisme. I'm willing to sell you information. About Vis Gaka."
Liber's eyes narrowed. "Vis Gaka?"
"One of the three candidates for The Great of this century," the informant confirmed.
A flicker of interest crossed Liber's face. "Interesting. Price?"
"19 million Pins."
(For context: 1 Pin is equivalent to 33 cents.)
Liber's expression darkened. "That's absurdly expensive."
The informant spread his hands defensively. "You think that's expensive? This man has a bounty of 39 million Pins. He's the most wanted fugitive in the world right now. You? Your bounty is barely 2 million Pins. So yes, the price reflects the product."
He leaned forward slightly. "Oh, and speaking of The Great candidates—the International Council has already made their selection for this century's Great."
Liber's curiosity got the better of him. "Who is it?"
The informant shrugged. "No one knows his real name. Not even the Council. They've given him a title, though. 'The Terror.' He's been wreaking havoc across Tidtimus—four million dead across twelve major cities. The body count keeps rising."
After a tense negotiation, they settled on a price: 4.8 million Pins.
Liber pulled out his communicator and made a call. "Varkas. Get me 4.8 million Pins. Now."
On the other end, Varkas's voice was incredulous. "That's 18.2% of our entire operational budget! Are you insane?"
"It's about Vis Gaka," Liber said simply.
A pause. Then: "...I'm on my way."
The informant watched with amusement. "Interesting. Why are you so desperate to find Vis Gaka?"
Liber's gaze went distant, unfocused. "Something personal."
---
FLASHBACK
A child stood amidst rubble, tears streaming down his face. His home was destroyed. At his feet lay his sister's body, lifeless and cold. In front of him stood a figure drenched in blood, standing over another corpse. The figure walked toward him. The child—young Liber—ran.
The bloody figure was Vis Gaka.
Another memory: Liber, older now, raising a knife to strike someone's neck—only to be stopped by a stranger's hand. That stranger was Varkas, before they ever knew each other.
---
PRESENT DAY
Liber's voice was quiet, steel beneath the calm. "I need to be sure. And if I'm right... I'll kill him myself."
Varkas arrived shortly, carrying dozens of heavy suitcases filled with Pins. After four hours of counting and verifying, the informant finally spoke.
"South Emperor City. A bread shop called 'Okisa.' That's where you'll find him."
Liber and Varkas exchanged a sharp glance, their expressions shifting from anticipation to alarm.
"That's..." Varkas started.
"...where Rylan and Izan are stationed," Liber finished grimly.
To be continued...