"So, when are you back to killing again?"
Inside a dimly lit room adorned with symbolic artworks and holy gemstones was a man.
He looked no more than twenty-five, sitting on his knees in a formal black suit.
Each candle on the altar before the man was flickering solemnly—casting swaying shadows that illuminated some items beside it, cherished mementos of a beautiful—innocent woman, and also a wedding ring.
"Now that the dream fortunately ended short, you could go back to how you once were"
"After all, you don't actually think this would last forever, do you?"
Despite hearing these words, the man remained silent with his eyes closed.
At this moment, a sinister doppelgänger—mirroring his features with a twisted malevolence was standing beside the man. Its eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger—and a cruel smirk played upon its lips, mocking the man's sorrow.
"Come on, think about the taste of blood again," the doppelgänger said as it crouched down, and raised its blood-drenched hand right before the man's closed eyes, letting the red liquid drip down to the floor. "You are not meant for this softness. Deep down—you knew it was all a facade. That woman is nothing but a naive floret—and it's only a matter of time before she is plucked away from your life"
Upon the sheer mention of the woman, the man's eyes shot open, displaying a lethal intent.
"Oh! There it is, Viktor. There's the Child of Anarchy,"
In that fraction of a moment, Viktor's entire demeanor changed into a vicious one.
His sorrowful and pathetic appearance was nowhere to be seen.
Retreating to the side, the doppelgänger poised his face close to the man and pointed at the two mirrors—beside the small altar. "Look... Look at how perfect that vicious face commends your appearance, it is meant to be!"
"Over the last two years, you tried becoming good," the doppelgänger cuddled Viktor's face from the back. "But let's be real—you're hiding your true self, aren't you? Do you really think that woman changed you? Do you really think she managed to fix you? No... you will always and will ever be—a monster."
Viktor looked at his reflection in silence with a blank stare.
On the other hand, seeing his countenance, the doppelgänger became increasingly excited.
"But now, with the death of your wife, you don't need to hide yourself anymore,"
"No amount of kindness and love would save you,"
"No amount of effort would save you,"
"No matter what, your soul will always be tainted,"
"Admit it, you are born to be evil. Don't deny it, embrace it, you are chosen,"
"Let loose of everything, become what you once were. In fact, accept the System's pro-"
As the doppelgänger made its way to the front, its mouth was grabbed by an iron grip.
The grip was tightening until the doppelgänger exploded and dissipated into nothingness.
Splash!
"I made a promise to myself, I will not become you again," Viktor uttered.
Just as he was about to return back to his meditation again—after destroying the illusion his mind was making him see and hear, Viktor's eyes jolted open again when he heard a sudden loud banging sound coming from the front door.
Since the night was silent, the loud sound surprised him greatly.
Making a hurry to the living room, Viktor stopped in his tracks as he saw a group of people.
All of them looked like thugs, holding blunt weapons in their hands.
One of them, a man in the front, leading the group had a metal right arm, and he was also the one who knocked the front door down even though it was reinforced with steel. It took only a moment for Victor to recognize the group.
He remembered these people when he went to the bazaar to sell his wife's necklace.
Needing the money, he went there in the morning.
Along the way—he came across this group of people hanging around an alley, and seeing the guardian necklace that he was carrying—a high-tech protection necklace, the group mugged him knowing that it cost a fortune of credits.
Fortunately, the local passing cops helped him get out of the situation.
But it seemed like the group stalked him back home and waited until night to exact their plan.
"Pardon the intrusion, but I think you owe us something," the leader said cheekily.
Upon hearing this—Viktor clenched his fists and jaw strongly as he forced out a smile, trying his hardest to keep his urge at bay, "Please, I don't want any trouble. My wife just died, and I need the credits fo-"
"I don't give a fuck about your situation. Hand the credits over," the leader interrupted.
One of his goons stepped forward, playing with his weapon threateningly.
Frustrations grew inside Viktor—he was grieving, and he didn't want any trouble like this.
Seeing that Viktor was still not moving from his spot, reluctant to give up his credits when he was asked nicely, a bulky man snapped open a steel baton and swung it at him. It hits Vikor's face squarely, breaking his nose in the process.
A look of shock could be seen evidently on Viktor's face as he fell down.
But taking delight in the sight, the bulky man alongside the others continued beating him up.
Viktor only curled his body to protect his credit bracelet and vital organs.
Despite the onslaught of pain attacking his nerve endings—his face remained shockingly still and composed—devoid of the expected contortions of agony. It was as though the beatings, failed to perturb him.
"Give up your fucking credits!"
"Is it really worth your life? Just hand it over, do you even know who we are?!"
Continuing the beatings, the thugs became even fiercer.
However, none of them could budge Viktor—his body was as solid as a rock.
Beneath the torn fabric of his white shirt from being beaten on, and kicked—muscles rippled, and battle scars could be seen hidden underneath. Contrary to his meek demeanor—Viktor's physique was anything but weak and fragile.
"Just leave, I won't hold onto you guys. I want to be alone," Viktor pleaded even further.
Frustrated, the bulky man heads over to the side to a series of framed photos.
In contrast, the leader observed the unfolding scene from the rear, his gaze fixed on Viktor. A frown creased his brow when he caught a glimpse of a smile playing upon Viktor's lips. It was hard to see from his angle, but it seemed Viktor's face was wobbling between two conflicting emotions.
Suddenly, a glass-shattering sound resounded as the bulky man threw something at Viktor.
It was a framed photo of Viktor and his wife.
"You said your wife is dead, right? Give up the credits and I'll help you meet her,"
"I- I can't die yet..."
"Hmm?"
"I can't die yet because she's in heaven, and I won't be allowed there if I die now"
Upon hearing this, the group of thugs exchanged looks before all of them laughed in a union.
None of them expected such an answer from Viktor.
"Heaven...? In this day and age, you still believed in that kind of stupid concept?"
"So what are you going to do with that many credits? Give it to an orphanage or something?"
"Of course he is, he wanted to have good karma and go to heaven, isn't he? HAHA~!"
"What a dumb couple, no wonder she died young," the bulky man ended, laughing out loud.
All of the thugs were mocking him openly excluding the leader—the concepts of heaven and hell, or even God, had long been extinguished. To encounter someone still clinging to such a notion was as improbable as stumbling upon a smart koala, laughably impossible.
"You should all leave before it's too late" Viktor suddenly mumbled.
Having no clue of breaking in his tone, the bulky man gritted his teeth and stomped his head.
"Before it's too late?" He sneered. "No cops around to help you now—not at this hour. Just us and you. So what's your plan? Think you can take us all? Our leader, has a second-generation strength arm that could snap your bones like twigs, and you still think you can threaten us?"
Just then, the series of laughter abruptly stopped in a union.
In a fraction of a second, the air becomes tense.
Despite stomping with all his might—the bulky man gasped when Viktor was able to push his foot up with sheer force. He tried putting in more strength in disbelief, but Viktor managed to overpower him and turned to look at him directly in the eyes.
"Mocking and beating me is fine," Viktor started, his voice calm and composed. "But I do not appreciate you bringing my deceased wife into this. My DECEASED WIFE!" He screamed—it was only then his wrath exploded.
But the one that struck terror to the bulky man greatly was the second after that.
Right before his very eyes, Viktor's furious expression melted away—morphing into a sinister smile that hinted at the dark intentions brewing within his mind. "For that, all of you don't get to leave anymore..."
...
"Do you know him personally?"
"Yes, he runs a charity and is one of the nicest men I knew. But his wife died recently..."
Currently, a middle-aged woman conversed with a pair of armed cops clad in black and navy combat suits. She had summoned the authorities—upon being roused from sleep by the loud screams from one of her neighbors' houses.
"District 2, Peace Street—it's a noise complaint"
"We'll check it out ma'am, I'm sure he's going to be okay"
As the two cops began to investigate, the female cop noticed a hidden vehicle on the side.
"Ehmm... I think I can handle this one alone," She suddenly said.
Arching his brow in confusion, the male cop listened as she quickly added, "It's just a noise complaint. Probably nothing. I think there is another call from the next block, why don't you head there to save time?"
Despite being reluctant, the male cop decided to comply and excused himself.
He went to his sleek cyber bike and zoomed into the distance.
Sighing lightly, the female cop proceeds alone into the dim-lit house.
But as a precaution, she took out a machine sphere that followed on her shoulder closely.
It was a new-generation combat sphere.
Upon reaching the entrance, she found that the front door was knocked open.
Poised with a weapon ready at hand, the female cop, moved forward—noticing stains on the ground and walls illuminated by the machine sphere's light. It became clear to her: the stains were blood.
Barging inside, the female cop saw Viktor standing with his hand around the leader's neck.
His formal suit was completely covered in blood.
Corpses littered the cold floor.
Not expecting this sight, the female cop was stunned but she quickly pointed her gun at him.
"Let go of that man and hold your hands up!"
"Good, you arrived in time, these people bar-"
"I said put your hands up! Now!!"
Viktor was at a loss for words when he heard this—he looked at the cop in utter disbelief.
"I get that it looked bad, but this is my house, and these people are the ones wh-"
Bang!
Suddenly, a sharp sound pierced the air, freezing Viktor in place instantly.
Glancing down, he spotted a fresh, gaping hole in his chest.
Before he could fully comprehend the situation, two more bullets whizzed by, forcing him to stagger backward and collapse to the ground. Blood rushed out of his mouth as he realized that he had been shot.
He was given no chance to explain himself and got shot.
Numerous curse words flashed inside Viktor's mind, "Arghkk- Are you fucking stupid...?"
Despite wanting to curse, all that left his mouth was a soft mumble.
Moving swiftly, the female cop rushes to the leader of the group with concern on her face.
"Danny! Are you alright? What happened?!" She screamed in horror.
Gaining no answer in return—the female cop's expression darkened as she stood right back up, and went over to Viktor. She looked down on him—choking on his own blood with a cold look and pointed her gun at him again, "You shouldn't have fought back..."
Upon hearing this, Viktor cursed his luck as he didn't see it ending this way.
Seems like his bad karma struck once again.
However, right before the female cop delivers the final shot, a message appears in his vision.
⌠Do you want redemption?⌡