The pitiful figure returning was a mess, unable to walk. His only recourse was to crawl towards Simeon with agonizing slowness. The person was none other than Monsi, bearing the unmistakable marks of Roman's brutality.
Simeon's face contorted in shock. A sliver of fear crept in as he recognized Monsi's agonizing crawl, devoid of any accompanying shadow of Roman. His gut instinct, a sickening certainty, screamed that something was terribly wrong. They were trapped. The enemy was one step ahead.
Trained snipers, hidden in the darkness of the workshop's upper reaches, awaited their moment. Simeon, blissfully unaware, remained utterly confident in Roman's legitimacy.
Each sniper, concealed in the rafters, clutched a walkie-talkie. At the signal, they would unleash a deadly barrage, their targets predetermined.
As Monsi inched closer, Simeon's fear morphed into paranoia. He suddenly pulled a gun, the cold metal shaking in his hand. He now realized the enemy lay hidden within. Pointing his weapon ahead, he desperately hoped the hidden adversary would reveal themselves.
Suddenly, a piercing silence shattered. Not the absence of sound, but a sharp, whistling intrusion that ripped through the air. A bullet. It materialized from the darkness, finding its mark with a sickening thud. One of Simeon's men crumpled to the floor, lifeless.
Panic flared in Simeon's eyes. He whipped his gaze towards the fallen figure, the echo of the gunshot still hanging heavy. Before he could even react, another bullet sliced through the air. Then another. Each one found its target with deadly precision, picking off Simeon's men one by one.
Simeon spun, his gun raised in a desperate attempt to find the source of the onslaught. His eyes darted towards the upper rafters of the workshop, searching for a glint of a scope, a flicker of movement in the darkness. But there was nothing. Just an oppressive, suffocating blackness that seemed to swallow the sound of the gunfire whole.
From above, a hail of bullets rained down. Men stationed in the workshop's upper reaches were targeted with merciless efficiency. They fell one by one, their screams cut short by the sharp, metallic whispers of death. Until only Simeon remained.
He stood frozen, a lone figure bathed in the eerie silence that followed the last gunshot. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the chilling emptiness. But unlike his comrades, Simeon wasn't dead. He was left alive.
Although he was scared and unable to move, his fear was quickly eclipsed by a surge of rage. Anger flared in his eyes as he looked at the miserable Monsi crawling towards him.
"This is all your fault! My people are dead because of you!" Simeon shouted, his voice trembling with fury. Without hesitation, he fired a shot toward Monsi's head.
Bang
The shot by Simeon ended Monsi's agonizing crawl. Suddenly, a pair of footsteps approached him.
"Simeon, Simeon, Simeon, I thought you were smart," Roman said with a hint of disappointment.
Simeon panicked and immediately looked towards the source of the voice. Indeed, he found Roman approaching him with a gun at his side. He tried to aim his gun towards him, but unfortunately...
Bang
Roman fired at Simeon's hand, the one holding the gun. Fear clouded Simeon's face as his hand, unable to grip the gun, dropped it to the floor.
Knowing he no longer had the upper hand, Simeon raised his hands slowly in surrender. His gun lay discarded, and the enemy still lurked in the darkness. He was the only man left alive, and there was nothing he could do.
Roman smirked and laughed at Simeon's action. "A coward...hah."
"Hahahaha, I thought you were strong. You are indeed a coward. Look at you now, powerless, more worthless than a pig," Roman continued to laugh at Simeon.
He pulled his gun and aimed it at Simeon's head, his finger tightening on the trigger. But then he lowered the gun and kicked it away from him.
Simeon was confused as to why Roman did not kill him but instead kicked his own gun away. He thought that maybe he could escape, or that Roman had decided not to kill him. "You can't even kill me, or you don't have what it takes to kill," he thought.
"Hmm, maybe you are thinking that I don't know how to kill..." Roman started, his voice dripping with amusement. "It just seems too easy to kill you now. So, why don't I give you a chance to escape?"Simeon, unable to comprehend Roman's words, was in a state of panic. He knew Roman offered him a chance to escape, but on what condition? A sliver of hope flickered within him. Could it be possible to actually get out of this alive?"Are you sure?" he stammered, needing confirmation."Yes," Roman declared, "but on one condition. We will fight in hand-to-hand combat. As a Ventrio's member, I, Roman Lebado, challenge you to a duel!"He change his stance like a trained martial artist. His right hand in front aiming towards the enemy.Simeon nodded, there being no other choice but to fight in order to survive. Even though he wasn't a master in hand-to-hand combat, he had been trained in self-defense.Without waiting another second, Roman lunged forward, his right fist aimed squarely at Simeon's face. Caught off guard by the lightning-fast strike, Simeon had no time to defend himself. The blow connected with a sickening thud, leaving his face swollen and throbbing from the impact.Roman smirked. With a lightning-fast movement, he launched into a spinning kick, connecting with Simeon's face before he could react.
Even Hermes, watching the live feed from the body cam attached to Roman, couldn't help but be impressed. Back inside the workshop, gasps erupted from the Ventrio members as they witnessed the brutal efficiency of Roman's attack.
Simeon crumpled to the floor, curling his body into a ball to shield himself from the relentless assault. He knew resistance was futile; all he could do was try to defend himself.
Roman stalked towards him, a predator toying with his prey. Kicks rained down on Simeon, each blow echoing with a sickening thud. Finally, with a brutal twist of his hips, Roman unleashed a powerful kick that sent Simeon flying. The impact slammed him into a nearby table, scattering the toolbox perched atop it.
In the corner of his eye, a glint of metal caught Simeon's attention. The toolbox lay open, spilling its contents. With a surge of adrenaline, he lunged for the first weapon he could find – a wrench. He scrambled to his feet, brandishing the wrench with a desperate cry, and swung wildly at Roman. But the trained fighter easily evaded the clumsy attack, his smirk widening at the feeble attempt.
Simeon went on with another strike, wrench gripped tight, and swung it wildly at Roman. But Roman was ready. He easily sidestepped the clumsy attack and grabbed Simeon's wrist. The wrench clattered to the floor.With a twist, His grip tightened like a vise. A sickening crack echoed through the room – Simeon's hand was broken. A scream of pure pain ripped from his throat.The pain from his broken hand shot through Simeon. He crumpled to his knees, the . Roman seized the opportunity, launching a kick that sent Simeon sprawling to the floor. The fight seemed to drain out of Simeon. He lay there, gasping, a look of defeat etched on his face. His face now begging for mercy or saying to kill him already.
"Is that all you can do? You're boring," Roman said, delivering another kick while insulting him. "Worthless!... Weak... Coward... Useless piece of shit!" He kicked him in the face five more times.
After seeing Simeon lying there unconscious, Roman scanned the area and spotted the wrench he had seen earlier. With a cold determination, he picked it up and gripped it tightly. With a swift, brutal motion, he smashed it into Simeon's face, ending his life in an instant.
The silence that followed was quickly broken as the snipers, previously hidden, revealed themselves and regrouped with Hermes outside. The air was thick with the tension of their recent confrontation.
Roman knelt beside Simeon's lifeless body and pulled a letter from his pocket. With deliberate care, he placed it on Simeon's chest.
"In this way, they'll know who we are," he murmured, a dark satisfaction curling his lips.