At the top of a hill, after an extensive trail, there is a forest composed of different types of plants and trees of different species. This place divided small neighboring cities, which in turn were besieged around it. Most of these cities were very busy, as they were merchant cities. Mount Crimson was one of them. Although there is a trail and it is a long way, it was one of the shortcut options used by many people and travelers who came from afar to buy food and goods at a more affordable price at that time of year
One day, after a cold dawn and a light rain, in the early morning there were many clouds scattered across the sky and the sunlight was divided between the spaces of the leaves of the trees of that forest, illuminating fragments of the tender darkness of that place. The weather that day was very pleasant, however, certain parts of the forest were quite deserted.
So you could hear someone talking in the distance, but you don't know for sure. Voices came closer and closer and became more and more audible. And then two men appear who were walking together along one of the forest trails. One carried a passed-out body on his shoulder and the other carried a huge sturdy bag, which appeared to be very heavy by the effort the man carried. They walked there while Zenir and Korusao, criminal members of a faction, were on their way to Mount Crimson.
— No! On the contrary. I like the webs — replied Zenir.
— Do you like spider webs? — asked Korusao.
— Yes!
— Why on earth would anyone like cobwebs? They smear the whole shed.
— Well, it's personal. I have a theory about this.
— It is certainly personal, as you are responsible for cleaning the entire shed and the place is always full of cobwebs. It's less work for you.
— It is not so. I have a different point of view.
Both criminals stopped walking for a moment to rest. Then Korusao, who asked, resumed the conversation.
— So explain yourself — asked Korusao, breathless.
— Well... — replied Zenir, also panting, sitting and leaning with the back of his head on a rock — I don't necessarily like cobwebs... — looked tired at the fellow — Know?
— No.
— Is that... — his head drove forward again and then continued — Where we live, the night has many mosquitoes. And with the webs, mosquitoes decrease. They are caught by the webs and the spiders feed on them. This means that at night, less mosquitoes will bother us, that's why I let the spiders make their traps through the webs.
— Well, this is the first time I've heard something like this — said Korusao with his hand on his chin.
— Mosquitoes are trapped in the webs. They are unbearable at night.
Zenir moves his face and his gaze towards Korusao.
— I will leave this body here, it is very heavy. I think we've walked far enough to drop him somewhere.
Zenir and Korusao lay a body they carried on the ground and distance themselves from it to a nearby bush while talking. After reaching the bush, they began to urinate. One next to the other. However, namely, the body that was previously passed out, now wakes up sleepy together with a blurred vision and with a huge headache. The first scene that the man who was unconscious contemplates in his blurred vision are two men a little ahead of him, arguing while they urinated.
— So you like cobwebs because they catch mosquitoes that bother you? — asked Korusao.
— Yeah — replied Zenir.
— Do you save your work from catching mosquitoes that bothered us?
— Right.
— Doesn't it cross your mind that this can also be disgusting?
— Well ... To be honest... Is it a little ironic coming from you that you are tired of robbing people and now you have a moral sense of who wants everything clean? — said Zenir, turning his face to Korusao in a hard tone while still urinating.
— Damn, what a hellish headache. What happened? — said the unconscious man, now awake.
Upon hearing a voice, the criminals who urinated realized that the body they were carrying had woken up. The subject's blurred and blurred vision spins involuntarily from left to right in circular movements. The guy now contemplates the two criminals standing in front of him with legs spread, and with his back, only with his neck turned towards him. In his vision still blinding, he sees a narrow escape, from the side. When looking to his right, the subject finds a bag of money on its side on the floor, supported by a stone.
— Oh no...! I'm in trouble...! They abandoned me and I was still robbed. Hidana will kill me.
When faced with what was a catastrophe for what had happened, the subject is suffocated by Zenir, from behind, with a cloth in which he lay with a violently strong chemical, making him pass out again.
— I feel sorry for him — said Zenir as he wiped his hands on his own clothes.
— Did I need to do this again? This thing has a horrible smell — asked Korusao.
— Either that or he hands us over.
— Right.
— He has seen our faces and now?
— Do we leave him here?
— If anyone comes by and finds him, he'll tell us about us.
Both crossed their arms simultaneously and for a moment they thought about what could be done. Korusao pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it. When he looked at his companion while the fire was still starting at the end of his smoke, he spoke.
— I got an idea — Korusao said to Zenir.
An hour later, an unhappy darkness permeated the entire vision of a man who lay with an extreme headache. Even with his eyes open, the migraine that sounded evil washed over his mind like a rotten fog in his mind. His head was becoming more and more dizzy. His knees are now slamming hard against the floor, as if they were trading floors penetrating a wooden board. Now, as a hostage, the man caught screams the moment his knees hit hard on a wooden floor.
— Ah! It hurts! — shouted.
— Be quiet there and don't get in trouble — said a voice.
— I don't know if I got the right person — said another voice.
— Why do you say that?
— I don't think I was a guard.
— He's talking citing a name all the time and saying he's from a faction.
Sounds, noises and punches in something massive are echoed, followed by a pause from a man who appeared to be tired, where the depth of a breath was heard when listening to someone panting. A huge uproar of various metals falling to the floor had disturbed the hostage's ears, sensitive to the headache he felt. Some tools fall on the wooden floor again, popping more metal sounds.
It was the small hiding place of the Cas faction, which was in a shed, very well hidden by the way.
However, representing by a scribbled and sloppy handwriting, as if he didn't care. Furthermore, judging by him, it facilitated communication between the few members, as something almost unpronounceable. For Branco, the only thing that mattered was profit. Anything that constituted an idea of value, other than profit itself or helped to earn it, was practically a distraction for the faction's ultimate interest. "There is no honor among thieves" - Branco often said in most of his discussions.
This ideal and way of looking at the world, curiously, had the habit of encouraging faction members to help themselves more and more. In any case, it was not a faction of recurring profits.
Next to the hostage, a cross-eyed man was seated on a sofa with a peaceful countenance, lying down, with his neck resting on the arm of the sofa and his head was upside down watching his partner try to open a rudimentary bag with chains and padlocks full of money .
— Ah! — exclaimed the man trying to open the bag — I think I got it!
At this point, the faction was solving its financial problems. However, she had a rather peculiar habit. Instead of selling drugs or smuggling, they used to steal people, cargo and luxury goods. For the latter, however, there were no recurring successes. However, when they received information that a substantial amount of money would arrive for the cashier at a gambling house, they decided to act in order to try to solve their financial problems.
After a strange silence, the hood is removed from the hostage's head. Now, what man was hooded, on his knees and with his arms tied back, his first contact with the world again was an unpleasant image of two men cornering him, almost morally, facing him staring at him.
Since they both approached their faces with curiosity, he sharpened his terrible headache when his eyes came in contact with the sunlight from the midday sun, coming from a small hole in the roof.
— Do you know him? — asked Branco.
— No — replied Hermano, after a long silence.
— We found him carrying a purse with this money alone. I think I was a guard — said Korusao.
The hostage looks sideways with a distinct look of anger and indignation.
Then Zenir, in turn, began to narrate how the theft had been.
— We waited for a long time for the money that would supply the house to arrive. They did not arrive on time. We were in a thicket peeking for almost an hour in front of the gaming house. No movement was taking place. Not a single client or guard at the gaming house passed by — explained Zenir.
— We waited so long, we were bored. No guard appeared and no sign of the money. We started to think that we were in the wrong place and that there was not the right game house. So we decided to change the plan. Instead of waiting, we went into the back anyway to find out what had happened — said Korusao as he lit a cigarette.
— When we entered through the back door, which we were watching, we came across a man who was trying to carry a bag by himself. She seemed to be too heavy for him, because he was making a lot of effort dragging her across the floor — completed Zenir.
The guy with the bag, who by the way had his back to Zenir and Korusao, passed out after inhaling a very strong chemical that lay on a cloth, being suffocated from behind by Zenir. However, after the man fell asleep, the criminals began to question themselves.
— If we leave this guard here, someone will notice that he passed out and that this bag is missing — had said Zenir at the time.
— I think we did it. The money bag should be this — said Korusao, also at the time of the theft.
— But what will we do with it?
— We'd better take him and leave him somewhere far away so as not to get people's attention. When he wakes up he won't remember what happened and why he passed out.
— That's how we decided to take him — said Zenir to Branco.
— I'm not a guard at all. I work for the Iuhda faction. When they hear you stole Hidana's money, he himself will send someone after you! — excomungou o refém, como quem pragueja.
— Why didn't you leave him somewhere else instead of bringing him here? — asked Branco.
— When we had taken a break, he woke up and saw our faces. So it didn't matter anymore to leave him anywhere, he would tell someone about us — replied Korusao.
— I arrived earlier than you. Hidana will be very furious for knowing that they are stealing money from him.
— But didn't he say he's from Iuhda? — asked Tobias, the stirrup.
— They belong to Hidana — replied Branco.
— Isn't it the corrupt Ortega military group that belong to him? — asked Zenir.
— They too — replied Branco.
— Interestingly the son of a bitch has a lot of gangs, factions and even some Hollen soldiers working doing dirty work for him and distributing drugs to different parts of Hollen. They earn so much money that they shouldn't be able to count and share it with each other — replied Hermano.
— You are worms! — exclaimed the hostage.
— Who is Hidana? — asked Tobias.
— That guy with a body full of tattoos — said Korusao.
— Do you know him? — asked Hermano.
— A heavy barbell guy — replied Zenir — And very violent that sells drugs all over Hollen.
— But who is the faction that everyone says he distributes to almost all Hollen is the Hayk faction — said Korusao.
— The Hayk faction is also his — said Branco — And most drug outlets, mostly in the southern part of Hollen, are all pretty much his. Hidana's faction has several other subordinate factions subordinate to his.
— I will personally tell Hidana everything! You can wait! — shouted the hostage.
Branco and Hermano, standing side by side, facing and close to the hostage, looked at each other at the same time, while a small sweat ran down Branco's forehead at the same time he swallowed dry with a worried face.
Although Zenir and Korusao talked about a possible new problem between the members of the faction, they talked to each other in a low voice to the point that only they could hear each other.
— Hey! Wait! Don't move! — said Zenir to Korusao.
— What's going on? — asked Korusao.
— Where is my sword?
— Isn't with you?
— Damn it.
— Did you walk all this way with a heavy bag of money and only now do you realize that you are without your sword?
— I think I forgot it when we entered the gaming house. We have to go back there, my name is written on it — replied Zenir worried.
— How can you be so careless?
— Seriously, we need to get back there.
— You are a strange thief. First the thing about the cobwebs. Now this. Only a very stupid criminal would be able to spell his name on his own sword — said Korusao.
— I didn't write it, they wrote it for me. It was a gift for a favor that I did a long time ago.
Branco, the faction leader leaves the hostage's presence and walks to another part of the hideout — We can't go back. By now you must have found her — said Korusao.
— Well, listen to everyone what we're going to do! We have tasks for now! — said Branco — Zenir and Korusao, you two will go after Ian. He took a sum of money from us and has been missing for days. You will see what happened to him. He must be at that guy's house, Sidarta in Carsas. In the meantime, we will look for a new place to change points. We can't stay here anymore. Surely this Hidana will send someone to come and kill us. Our meeting point will be in the square of Beryas at 06:00 pm.
— So shall we keep the money? — asked Zenir.
— Yes, let's keep the money — replied Branco.
From this, everyone began to ignore the hostage as they left the pavilion, one by one, in a chatter of conversation, when Tobias then asked a question to Branco, the leader of the faction — Can we have lunch first? — suggested.
— Oh... Of course! — replied Branco, looking at his partner as they walked together.
— I know a very good place where we can have lunch — said Tobias.
— What about this chatterbox? — asked Hermano next to the hostage.
Everyone was already at the door when the question was asked. However, in a synchronized manner, everyone stopped walking and automatically turned at the same time to the hostage. White, while smoothing his chin, projects a serious look at the hostage and remains silent for a while, thinking about what decision he would make. The hostage, looking back, looked indignantly in his eyes. Looking at a man tied with his hands behind his knees, with the look of a rabid dog and breathing hard, he finally replied the leader of the faction.
— You can let him go.
Hermano, the strong, fat and evil-faced man who had opened the bag of money, with a single stroke cut with a knife the ropes that held the hostage's wrists. When released, without blinking, the man ran running against the exit door, which with the impact that knocked, opened again. The faction had finally decided to have lunch before looking for a new place to live and fleeing a possible threat that was about to come.
However, minutes later, before going to look for Ian, one of the members of the faction, Zenir convinced Korusao to try to rescue his sword, which possibly would have left it at the place where they carried out the theft. On the way back to the gaming house, Zenir and Korusao returned to the site to see if it was still possible to recover Zenir's lost sword. In the middle of the way, they returned to discuss about the cobwebs that Zenir did not clean, since the bandit was responsible in the faction for cleaning the hideout. While Korusao criticized him, Zenir defended himself, still arguing that spiders caught mosquitoes that bothered them at night.
— I do not care. Who is so keen that I clean all the cobwebs in the shed? — asked Zenir.
— You simply have to do your job — said Korusao poking his companion's chest with his index finger.
— Doesn't my opinion matter? — replied Zenir with both hands turned to his chest.
— Most want you to clean the webs, everyone has been discussing this for some time.
— Everyone is sleeping better because the mosquitoes stopped, have you stopped to think about it?
— It doesn't matter, it is the vote of the majority of the faction.
— So I only act well when I like the most? And I? And the minority?
— Screw the minority — said Korusao, turning his face to his friend.
— Does it never cross your mind that the happiness of the greatest number is not always a good criterion? — asked Zenir.
— I just want you to clean that up.
— We will not go back there anymore. We are moving to another place — replied Zenir as he stepped forward and took some leaves from a plant in front of him.
When they returned to the gambling house, where they had previously carried out a robbery, the place was filled with people everywhere, with countless Hollen military police surrounding the place.
— Damn it! Look how many policemen are there — whispered Zenir.
The police had been called. Upon returning, they came across several policemen, where many of them were collecting statements. The place was completely surrounded by banners so that other people did not cross the border of that siege, which was now a crime scene. Looking to his right, Korusao saw what would be the companions of the man caught and taken hostage, handcuffed walking over escort.
— What happened? Did they see us and call the police? — asked Zenir.
— No... Nobody saw us come and go — replied Korusao.
— What will become of me without my sword? How will I defend myself without it?
— You can get another one.
— That one had a special value. It was from her that I learned to defend myself.
— Well ... We stole a gambling house. This also happens inside. All a man's assets can be lost in the blink of an eye. Do not worry. We'll get you another one — he said in an attempt to console him.
— I feel that at the same time that I stole, I was stolen too. Curse...! — said Zenir as he looked at his empty palms.