V – Fireworks


WARNING

Contains violence, torture, and murder. May not be suitable for younger readers.

This chapter can be skipped without major plot holes (read the Author's Notes at the end).


In one of the many storehouses, a man was tied to a metal pole supporting the ceiling. His breathing was loud and painful, his left arm bent at an unnatural angle and swollen. He was shirtless, covered in bruises and cuts, but none serious enough to threaten his life. His hands were turning a dark shade of purple because of the thin metal cords tied too tight for his blood to flow. He was covered in sweat, blood, and his own spit. One of his eyes was dark and his lips and chin were covered in dried blood. The man, in his late forties and with a well-built body, was enjoying a break from the torture as his head was spinning around the border of consciousness.

Outside, a black car stopped and the Dragon stepped out. He was his own driver this time, not willing to risk having someone else find out about this.

"Master."

A Chinese man, standing rather tall for an Asian, with his hair braided behind him and dressed in black from his neck to his heels bowed down in front of the leader. His gloves were torn around the knuckles and his hands were covered in blood, though it was not his.

"Any progress?" the Dragon asked as he approached the storehouse.

"None, master."

"Is he alive?"

"Yes, master."

The Dragon entered the building and two guards bowed as well. They were covered from head to toe, only their eyes being visible. One guard had small black eyes, the other had large, baby blue eyes.

The latter asked for permission to speak first.

"Master."

"Talk."

"The hostage had begged for death. He had refused water. No information had been revealed."

The man in charge to torture the hostage was following two steps behind the Dragon as he slowly stepped closer. Indeed, his employee looked pathetic.

"Wake him," came the order as the torturer hurried to do so. He splashed the half-dead hostage with a bucket of cold water, causing him to wake gasping and trembling.

The hostage looked at the new man standing in front of him with the one eye he could open and tried to recognize the person through the blur.

"Who paid you?" the Dragon asked, but the hostage remained silent.

The Dragon took out his gun and shot the hostage in his feet, aiming each toe one by one as the victim screamed in agony.

"I will ask you again… Who paid you?"

"…I don't know… what are you… talking about…" the other mumbled between gasps.

"I am talking about the code of one of the safes, the one that had been emptied last month."

The other shook his head once again. He had been a new employee, appointed to guard one of the three largest safes of the bank in Tokyo owned by the Dragon. Less than two weeks after him being hired, the money, gold, diamonds, jewelry and artworks in the safe had mysteriously disappeared, without the alarm being set off.

"You should know I hate vermin."

The Dragon threw the bottle of sake from which the torturer had been drinking. It crushed against the hostage's legs, the broken shards cutting into his flesh as the alcoholic drink burned his wounds.

"Should I bring the gasoline, master?" The torturer offered as the victim froze in terror.

"Yes. Wait for my command." The Dragon answered calmly.

The guards looked at each other. The blue-eyed one looked rather confused and perhaps a little scared as well, his colleague couldn't be sure. It was the first time the blue-eyed had been assigned to guard a hostage while he was being tortured. He hadn't enjoyed it at all and his newest colleague, whose identity he had yet to learn, could tell he was not the best fit for this kind of job. He felt pity.

The Dragon sighed. "Why are you doing this?" He approached the terrified hostage and clasped his face with one gloved hand. "You are going to die, anyway. You could at least spare me the effort of torturing you."

The man's jaws began to hurt more and more as the Dragon applied even more force. He felt the blood coming from where some of his teeth had been, before the torturer had punched them out.

"Here are your options… One, you start talking and you earn yourself the death you've been begging for… or two, I'll set you on fire."

"…Kill… Kill me…"

The Dragon slammed the victim's head against the metal pole behind him, then stepped back. The torturer poured gasoline all over the man's pants and feet, leaving a puddle around him.

Just then, the Dragon's phone began to ring. He checked the number and smirked.

"Think about it." He warned the hostage as he alone walked out of the storehouse. The guards bowed again, the blue-eyed man was surprised the hostage was not yet dead.

A few meters away, the man answered the call.

"Yes, love?" This was his way of saying he could talk to her for as long as she wished, that he was not in the middle of anything important. It was also a way of avoiding names.

'Padre…' the voice of his daughter came from the phone, sounding anything but pleased. It was rare, considering the tight bond between them. 'I have some interesting news for you which I think will interest you, just like they interest me. Is it alright if we dine together tonight?'

"I will see what can be done, my dear. What happened?"

'Something I doubt you would agree with. I also have some questions for you, Padre. I believe I am old enough now.'

"Questions about…?"

'You. And me. I hope you haven't forgotten, Padre.'

"I have not. We will dine this evening, then."

'Thank you, Padre. Could you give me an hour, please?'

"After I am done with something, I will make reservations and announce you."

'Please text me, then. I want to watch a movie.'

"Very well. Take care."

'You too. I love you.'

"And I, you." With that, the man ended the call and casually walked back inside the store house.

The hostage was trembling in terror and agony with his legs crushed and bleeding. The torturer held a bloody pipe in his hand. When the Dragon threw him a questioning look, the torturer bowed his head.

"He had insulted you, master."

"Ah, I see… Playing with fire, aren't we?" He asked as he approached the hostage.

"Y-your empire is g-going d-down!" The man stuttered.

"Is that so…? And who is to blame for that?" the Dragon asked. "Guards!"

A few seconds later, the two guards stood straight in front of him.

"Do you smoke?" He casually asked the blue-eyed guard.

"No, Sir!"

"Do you?" He asked the black-eyed guard next.

"Yes, master!"

"Give me a cigarette."

The guard quickly took out a package and gave his master the last cigarette. In return, the leader took out $100 and put them in the empty cigarettes package. The guard froze in shock, his black eyes going from the money to his employer and back again.

"Buy yourself something better. These stink."

"Y-yes, master!"

"You can go."

The Dragon sounded bored, but that was only the mask he was wearing. The two made their way to the only entrance of the storehouse that hadn't been barricaded with boxes.

The hostage watched hopelessly as the Dragon forced the cigarette into his mouth until the butt was reaching the entrance of his throat.

"I will burn your tongue before I watch you fry. Who paid you?"

"…Wease… Wease, gno… Uss…"

Seeing some progress, the Dragon slapped the back of the hostage's head, sending the cigarette flying out of his mouth and into the puddle of piss and gasoline on the floor.

"Say it again."

"Ross… I-I don't know anything else. His name is Ross. Please, free me. Please. I swear I won't talk."

"Just like you didn't talk now."

The Dragon picked up the cigarette, punched the victim in the abdomen enough to get him gasping for air and put the cigarette into his mouth. He held his palm open and the torturer passed him a box of matches. Trembling, the hostage began to shake his head, crying in despair.

The Dragon lit up the cigarette, which burned the inside of the traitor's mouth. He let the match fall in the puddle of gasoline, lighting up the man's body as he struggled in agony.

"Tell the guards they may leave."

The Dragon took out $1000 for each of the guards and sent the torturer to pay them and make sure they will be gone by the time the building would be on fire.

When he was back, the Dragon shot the torturer's legs. Seeing his confused expression, he decided to explain.

"You were useless."

The next bullet went through the torturer's head, blowing his brains on the wall. With a pleased smirk on his face, the Dragon poured a second can of gasoline from one of the boxes 'til near the burning traitor, who was still alive and screaming.

"Wait for your two daughters and wife before going to hell. Salute the devil for me."

Smiling as if it was the most amusing joke he had ever heard, the Dragon left the storehouse, driving away and towards the city. A couple of minutes later, the storehouse exploded as the fire had reached the box filled with dynamite.


Author's Notes:

Please favorite, follow, review, or PM me. I am open to suggestions and critiques and I will consider everything. If you have any questions, feel free to leave them in a message or in the review section.

Also, the story is being proofread and corrected by the beta reader Eat4Fun.

This chapter was both fun and exhausting to write... but it may be one of my favorites. However, for the readers who find it difficult to read, here's what happened...

Summary:

The Dragon paid one man to torture one of his new employees after a robbery. The employee is accused of collaborating with the thieves and leaking information. When he arrives, he continues questioning the employee, then his phone rings and Caterina asks the two of them to dine together later that evening. The Dragon will finish up the questioning after the employee admits he had been corrupted by Ross. The torturer is sent to pay the two guards and send them off, then executed for being inefficient. The Dragon will set everything on fire and little after his leave, the storehouse explodes.