In the wake of Zeus Lituangco's funeral, Hermes and Severino embarked on fulfilling their promise: to establish an organization dedicated to purifying this corrupted world. Severino, entrusted with Zeus's wealth and treasures, became the organization's financial steward.
Their first priority was to assemble a team of trustworthy individuals. They understood that achieving their ambitious goal wouldn't be possible alone. The organization needed unwavering loyalty, unwavering determination, and unwavering commitment from its members.
Hermes began by reaching out to his network of trusted associates. At the top of his list was Roman Lebado, his closest friend.Having cast a wide net to recruit potential members,
After they recruit many members
Hermes and Severino convened a meeting at the Zeus Mansion. The purpose was twofold: to welcome those who had expressed interest and to unveil the organization's specific cause.
Hermes, alongside Severino, strode onto the mansion's balcony. He took a deep breath, drawing the attention of the assembled crowd. As their gazes rose to meet his, he raised his right hand, a gesture that demanded silence.
A hush fell over the gathered members. This was the moment Hermes had been waiting for.He cleared his throat, his voice firm and steady as he began his speech."My name is Hermes Buencamino. Standing beside me is Severino Dimaguiba. We were both trusted lieutenants of Zeus Lituangco." His voice resonated with grief and a simmering anger.
"But Zeus is gone," he continued, his voice dropping to a somber tone. "Murdered by those demons who call themselves Casa de Diablo".
"His death will not be in vain. We will not stand idly by while those monsters continue to plague this world!" His voice rose, taking on a passionate edge. "We will establish an organization," he declared, his gaze sweeping across the crowd.
"An organization dedicated to fighting injustice, to purging this world of the evil that taints it.""Police? They are powerless." A hint of disdain crept into his voice.
"We will be the ones who bring justice. We will create a paradise from the ashes of this corrupted world. Who will join me in this fight?" Before concluding his speech, Hermes pressed on. "Perhaps some of you came here seeking a simple affiliation. But this is more than just membership. You have the chance to become heroes. Heroes who will bring justice to the helpless victims of those who prey on them!"
His voice rang with conviction, his gaze meeting each member of the crowd."Those bastards will face our wrath! But we need your strength. We need your courage. If you are with us, if you believe in a world free from their tyranny, then raise your hand!"
The crowd below fell silent, captivated by the raw determination and resolve that radiated from Hermes. A wave of emotions washed over the assembled members. Some shifted nervously, unsure of the path he proposed. Others, fueled by anger and a thirst for justice, vibrated with excitement.
Hands began to rise across the throng, a sea of fists punching towards the sky in a silent pledge of allegiance. A few voices, however, murmured amongst themselves. Skepticism lingered, whispers questioning the possibility of creating a paradise and the ultimate futility of sacrificing oneself for a cause history deemed meaningless.
Among those who raised their hands with unwavering conviction was Roman Lebado. His eyes held a steely glint, mirroring the determination burning in Hermes' gaze. Perhaps he, too, had a story etched in pain, a past that fueled his desire for a better world.
The mansion buzzed with activity after Hermes's grand declaration. Cheers erupted as glasses of liquor were raised in a celebratory toast. As Hermes mingled with the newly recruited members, a familiar face caught his eye. It was Boaz Escudero, a classmate from his high school days, standing apart from the celebratory throng.
Boaz, one of the few who hadn't raised their hand, excused himself and headed for the exit.
"Boaz! Is that you?" Hermes called out, surprised to see his old classmate. He caught up with Boaz just outside the mansion doors.
"Why didn't you join us?" Hermes asked, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. "Don't you want to be a hero?"
Boaz's smile held a cynical edge. "Hero? Me? Saving our country? Hell no, Hermes. I'm not interested in some noble sacrifice." He shook his head dismissively. "I don't want to die early for people who don't know me. We're not in a movie, Hermes."
Hermes stared at Boaz, his initial enthusiasm dampened by his classmate's blunt words. "Fuck being a hero!" Boaz finished, his voice laced with a bitterness that surprised Hermes.
Hermes's initial enthusiasm dimmed as Boaz's words sunk in. He cast his head down, a flicker of disappointment battling with a newfound determination. "If that's your decision, I respect it," he said finally, his voice low.
A tense silence hung between them. Boaz's reaction was unexpected, his cynicism deeper than Hermes had anticipated. "But remember this, Boaz," Hermes continued, his voice hardening slightly. "If you ever try to undermine what we're building here, then our friendship won't matter."
Boaz stared back at Hermes, his expression unreadable. A flicker of something - defiance, perhaps, or maybe a flicker of understanding - passed through his eyes before he finally spoke."I won't forget, Hermes," he said, his voice flat. Then, with a curt nod, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night.
The cheers of celebration had faded, replaced by the quiet hush that settled over the mansion after nightfall. Rest eluded Hermes. He couldn't shake the image of Boaz's cynical words or the weight of the responsibility he now bore.
Stepping outside, he found Roman Lebado, a solitary figure on the balcony, a glass of liquor clutched in his hand."Can't sleep either?" Hermes asked, his voice gentle despite the turmoil within.
Roman turned, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he offered a weary smile. "Seems like some things keep a man awake at night, no matter how much he drinks." He gestured to the empty chair beside him. "Mind if I keep you company, Hermes?"
Hermes settled into the chair, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the heated emotions of the day. "The future weighs heavy, doesn't it?"Roman nodded, taking a long swallow from his glass. "Thank you, Hermes," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Hermes raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden gratitude. "Thank you? For what?"Roman met his gaze, his eyes raw with a barely suppressed grief. "For giving me a chance. A chance for vengeance. My own mother... my father, he took her away from me in the most brutal way." A tremor ran through his voice, and a single tear escaped, tracing a path down his cheek. "The police... they can't seem to find him, or maybe they just don't care. But with you, with this group... maybe, just maybe, I can finally see him pay for what he did."
Roman told Hermes the whole story of his mother's death.Tears welled up in Roman's eyes as he spoke, his voice hoarse. "My father... he was a monster. Every day was a nightmare. We lived in constant fear, walking on eggshells. A misplaced word, a dropped glass - anything could trigger his rage."
Roman paused, taking a shaky breath. "He beat us both - my mother and me. Mercilessly. And then, one day..." His voice trailed off, choked with emotion.
"One day," Hermes prompted gently, offering him a silent understanding.Roman nodded, his jaw clenched tight. "He beat her again, worse than ever before. This time... she didn't get up. I held her, begging her to wake up, but..." Another choked sob escaped his lips."He ran," Roman continued, his voice low and cold. "He saw what he'd done and ran away. The police... they said they're looking for him, but..." He slammed his fist against the railing, a surge of frustration and helplessness coursing through him.
Deeply moved by Roman's story, Hermes pulled him into a warm hug, like a brother offering solace. "One of our organization's core objectives," he said, his voice firm with conviction, "is to deliver justice for those wronged by crimes that go unpunished. Justice shouldn't be a privilege for the wealthy; it should be freely available to all. That's why we're here – to avenge your mother's death."
Hermes squeezed Roman's shoulder reassuringly. "Can you tell me your father's name?"
"Samson Lebado," Roman replied, wiping away a stray tear. "His middle name is Dela Pena. He'd be in his forties, with dark hair and a prominent jawline."
"That's valuable information," Hermes said, his eyes gleaming with determination. "It'll be a big help in finding your father."
December 10, 2020
Hermes had recently acquired a property to serve as their organization's headquarters. During a crucial meeting, Hermes, Severino, and Roman brainstormed to choose a fitting name for their cause.
Lost in thought, Hermes's eyes lit up with inspiration. "What if," he proposed, "we incorporate the idea of vengeance into the name, since that's a driving force behind our mission? But we also want to represent the unity of the three of us."
A thoughtful silence followed. Then, a smile spread across Hermes's face. "Ven," he declared, "from 'vengeance,' and 'trio' signifying the three of us: Hermes, Severino, and Roman. Together, that forms Ventrio!"
Over five years, Ventrio had blossomed into a formidable organization. Its ranks swelled, accumulating hundreds, perhaps even thousands of members. Their mission fueled a covert arms race, with Ventrio acquiring a vast arsenal of weapons to fulfill their oath. Now, they operated as a substantial force, a hidden hand in the shadows.
April 20, 2025
The group accepted the first mission which is to kill Gary Lagman (the person who was killed in Chapter 1)
May 8, 2025, Inside the Ventrio Headquarters
Monsi stirred awake, finding himself bound to a chair, hands and legs secured. Disoriented, his mind flickered back to the truck, the sudden punch from Roman Lebado still a mystery. Now, however, a chilling realization dawned on him. Roman wasn't a newbie; he was undercover, and Monsi had walked right into his trap. A glint of metal caught Monsi's eye as Roman brought a blade into view.