Brick, known as "The Enforcer," strode down the dimly lit hallway of the ten-story apartment building. The air was thick with the stench of damp and decay, but he didn't mind. His senses were finely tuned, his massive frame casting an imposing shadow.
As he reached Marcus's apartment door, which hung askew from its hinges, Brick paused. He cracked his neck, the sound echoing through the corridor. "Let's see if these rumors are true," he muttered to himself, his voice a low growl.
Some info had passed down the organization to his ears.
Some fool named Marcus had robbed one of the Black Hood stores in the market. Most of the market was owned by the Black Hoods, it was a place outside the law afterall. Brick didn't much care if Marcus stole to pay off his debt but he couldn't allow stealing from the Black Hoods.
Brick's trench coat rustled as he stepped inside the deserted apartment. His steely gaze swept the room, taking in the dismantled medical equipment and general disarray. His movements were precise, every step purposeful.
"They really did a number here," Brick sneered, mocking the scene. The place was a mess but more importantly it was very empty. The medical equipment that Marcus relied on was gone and there was little left to signify someone was coming back here.
Brick cracked his knuckles "Little punk thinks he can just vanish with a debt that big? Not on my watch."
A flicker of amusement crossed Brick's rugged features, quickly replaced with a deepening scowl as he followed a scent more metallic than mold.
His eyes narrowed on a faint bloody trail leading to the fridge in the kitchen. He followed it, almost relishing the chase. The kitchen was as gritty as the rest of the place, but what caught his attention was the note pinned to the fridge door.
One sentence, stark and defiant: "I am not running."
Brick's chuckle was low and menacing. "Cocky little bastard."
With a swift motion, he yanked open the fridge door. The sight inside made his stomach turn, but his expression remained hardened. Bodies of three bounty hunters, crammed inside the small space, their lifeless eyes staring blankly through the gory mess.
"Been a busy boy, haven't ya?" Brick murmured, his voice laced with crude sarcasm. "Guess the kid's got more guts than I gave him credit for."
Brick's hand unconsciously went to his brass knuckles, the metal cool against his fingertips. "Alright, Marcus," he said, his voice now a growl. "You're going on the list."
Brick opened up his wrist-holo and types in an order.
Brick's fingers worked quickly, tapping commands into his wrist-holo. The pale blue light flickered, casting an eerie glow on his chiseled face scarred from countless battles. He typed in a confidential command code known only to the higher-ups in the Black Hood organization, a signal that turned a troublesome debtor into a high-priority target.> Authorization Code: BRICK-ENFORCER-01
> Target: Marcus Crassus
> Status: RUNNING FROM DEBT
> Details: Afflicted with sickness, unlikely to move quickly. Last known location: Slums, Centari-IV. Engage with caution. Authorization from the Enforcer granted for lethal force.
The message transmitted in a nanosecond, circulating instantly to every operative in the Black Hoods network. Across Centari-IV and beyond, mercenaries, bounty hunters, and enforcers received the alert. Holo-screens flashed in numerous back-alley dive bars, illegal bounty-hunting offices, and the sleek, dark halls of the Black Hoods' headquarters.
"RUNNING FROM DEBT - NEW ADDITION: Marcus Crassus."
The Enforcer's communication confirmed the high-stakes game had begun. "This'll flush you out," he whispered to the empty room, his voice echoing cruelly. "You can't hide forever, Marcus."
Brick's heavy footsteps echoed down the hall as he exited the apartment, already plotting his next move. The scent of fear, blood, and desperation was intoxicating to him. He loved the chase, the thrill of breaking those who thought they could outsmart the Black Hoods.
With ruthless efficiency, the order spread through the Black Hoods' web of informants and agents. Marcus's face and details were soon plastered across every bounty board and black market holo-screen. Anticipation grew within the ranks.
Brick knew he had set off a chain reaction that would make Marcus's life Hell. He relished the thought. Every thug, every assassin in the syndicate would be after the same prize. Marcus had turned himself into a beacon, a challenge Brick was eager to accept.
As Brick marched away from the abandoned apartment, he allowed himself a rare, cold smile. The kid thought he was smart, but he had underestimated the reach and power of the Black Hoods.
"Enjoy your last days, Marcus," Brick muttered under his breath, cracking his knuckles one last time. "Cause I'm coming for you."
Back in the slums of Centari-IV, Marcus would soon feel the weight of his calculated gamble. Every shadow now held a potential assailant, every face a possible betrayer.
Escape was no longer an option.