The death of the mob left quite a vacuum.

Vudke rested in his chair, eye glued to the screen as he watched the latest news report over the visible decrease in crime for Neonopolis. Following the demise of the mob a week prior, Vudke saw visible changes throughout the slummier, derelict parts of the city, as many criminals disappeared in droves. It made sense, of course, considering that through his brutal efforts, only one gang remained. The rest were slain throughout his lengthy clean-up operation, and with the death of the mob, it created ripples throughout the entire city, affecting the criminal life all together.

And it made sense. According to the files he archived in the ship's databanks, the mob was not only the largest criminal power in the city, but the largest criminal distributer of Prometheus Tech; the fire he was sent to steal back from mankind. And, as the news so eloquently put it, someone or something slaughtered everyone in that manor, then flayed them all. Pairing that with the death of many other notable gangs prior, even the boldest criminals and thugs were having second thoughts and inching away from the seedy lifestyle, lest they be next. So, with the demise of the mob, it did most of the work for him, leaving only a single powerful gang left with heightened access to Prometheus Tech. One calling themselves the Matadores.

Vudke's mandibles clicked together. They would be the last, and from them he could perhaps identify and learn the major catalyst and cause of the Prometheus Tech in circulation within the city. After all, he knew mere gangs couldn't fabricate his people's technology. Couldn't dissect and replicate it in their own way. So, someone else had to be the cause, and Vudke was going to find them.

For the time, he needed to gather information about the final gang. The ship's databanks were relatively blank on them; all he understood was that their actions were dictated by a mousy man named El Hongo. Vudke contemplated simply flaying him alive, but he shooed away that thought. With the mob's demise, his leads were few and thin. Offing El Hongo ahead of time meant his final lead would die, and finding the source of the Prometheus Tech would be exponentially harder. So, he needed El Hongo alive. Long enough to deduce where the Prometheus Tech originated from. And with his gang being the final peddlers, they had to be in direct communication with the true source.

A knowing nod left Vudke, prompting the hunter to rise from his seat and step away from the computer. Today could be spent scouting. Following and learning where his gang operated. How they operated. And then…well it couldn't hurt to dispose of a few of them.

To make it transparently clear to the mousy, shrimpy little man that Vudke was going to deal with him. One way or another.


Astonishingly, El Hongo looked as mousy as he did in person than he did via recordings.

Cloaked and perched on a roof, Vudke stared down at a parking garage's own rooftop, where a group of gangsters met up. Where the man himself addressed his almost comically dressed underlings. It was early in the morning, and El Hongo looked to be in the middle of a meeting with his men; informing them of things and almost rallying them together. Suffice to say, it made Vudke have to fight himself not to just blast his head apart from afar. But no…not yet.

His mask picked up the man's words to his men, translating them within seconds. "The Voodoo boys and drug heads are gone," he spoke to them, with a smile on his smug face. Leaned against an expensive, futuristic car. Judging from the flames on it, it had to be his. It was just as tacky as its owner. "and I heard someone took out ol' Don Giovanni's whole private island! So, with those pendejos gone, there's a whole lotta business for Los Matadores to take care of." Just as he suspected, they were making a move on everything the other gangs lost; swiping up territory and extending themselves as far as they could. A tale as old as time; one that always led to the new gang extending too far and exposing their neck.

"Hey," El Hongo nudged a man next to him, his grin persisting. "it's gonna be the high life from now on, ey amigos?" He was met with cheers and applause from his troops, with their confidence solidified. "Now go on and get out there, people! Score some drugs, bang some babes, and make me some money!" His men walked away from the roof, still riding that high. El Hongo moved to do the same, prompting Vudke to silently drop down to land atop the parking garage. Even with the order given, a few of his gangsters remained on the roof, left as sentinels to guard the area, no doubt.

Vudke eyed one close to the railing. Silent as could be, the hunter approached and ended that silent vigil with a swing of his Wristblades. The man's body hit the ground, and the hunter leaned over the railing, watching silently until, moments later, El Hongo emerged from the parking garage's bottom, and advanced down the nearly barren roads. Seeing them like that was perplexing, but he did pick up that there was a curfew for the city. Citizens couldn't be out until a certain time, though he could've sworn it wasn't always like that. Given the fact he wiped out an entire private island of mobsters, something told him the curfew was a rather new thing passed, and it was a direct result of his own actions once more.

Vudke didn't even scold himself for that one. This was the humans showing a lick of wisdom since his arrival.

Still, his prey was on the move, so he followed. The hunter planted a foot on the railing and leapt to another spot, landing and moving to another roof, one overlooking a small bridge the gang leader stood on with one of his men.

"Hey, I hear King Willie didn't die with all his boys," he informed the man, darting his head about. "so, maybe some Seviteurs survived too. And I don't like that fucking feeling, y'know? Keep your eyes open and watch out. We got a good thing goin'. I'd hate to see those pendejos ruin it for us." The man nodded, and El Hongo ducked into a building.

Vudke dropped down onto the walkway and continued his stalking. The man wasn't as daft as he anticipated. He already felt like he had eyes on him and was working reflexively. Alas, he understood so little. And failed to grasp what danger he was in.

More following through the nearly abandoned city. It was almost surreal to see the place he hunted in for days left in such a state. It meant the police were serious about the curfew, and serious about catching "the killer". Vudke suppressed a scoff at that.

Before long, the hunter came to perch on another overlook, this time giving him ample sight of El Hongo, speaking to a working girl; a hooker. He leaned against a metal pillar, flashing a "charming" smile at the girl who looked far too tired and far too worn to fall for his dismal wiles. Just utter exhaustion lined her face, and Vudke couldn't tell if it was from her life in general, or from the mousy thug trying to court her.

"So yeah, babe," he spoke, trying his best to lay on the charm. "me and my boys are gonna be taking over all the businesses. So," he reached out to trail a seedy hand along her side, teasing his finger upwards with that smug smile on his face. "stick with me, and papa Hongo's gonna take good care of y—" He didn't even finish, as a firm backhand met his face, causing him to stagger back. "Pch! Bitch! We'll see who's laughing, after my boys ice your ass!" Rebuffed and angry, he sauntered on, leaving Vudke to silently exhale.

It was very hard to fight the urge to kill him now…


Following El Hongo throughout the slums was tedious, but informative. Vudke raced across another roof and leapt to it, still steady following the seedy man. So far, what he learned confirmed his earlier suspicions; El Hongo had clear plans to swipe all the territory and businesses of the fallen gangs but remained cautious despite that. Seemed he knew victory didn't come unearned, so the man fretted that someone was out there, conspiring against him. Plotting and planning his downfall. In a sense, his fears were justified, but Vudke had no intentions on robbing him of his "criminal empire". It was little more than an empire of dirt, anyhow.

So, Vudke came to a stop atop another rooftop. Down below, El Hongo met with one of his men, now noticeably jumpier than before. "F-Fuck, I think we got a problem."

"What's wrong, boss?" The man asked. "Someone's not paying their debts? Skimming off the top? Just lemme know and I'll have 'em offed—"

"Worse than that," El Hongo interrupted him. He stole a glance over his shoulder, peering out into the nearly vacant roads. The curfew was still in effect. So, all that remained was dust, echoes, and unseen threats like himself. "I think one of those fuckers is following me. One of those fucking Serviteur pendejos! Just…watch around, okay? I'm heading back to the penthouse." He pushed past the man and got moving, earning a muffled curse from the lowly thug.

"S-Sure, boss, sure…puta madre…" he sighed and glanced off. Vudke waited all of seven seconds before he took his Speargun out and promptly shot the thug in the head. And he made sure it was done while El Hongo was in earshot, earning a panicked shout from the mousy man as he eyed his fallen underling. He broke into a sprint soon after, and Vudke followed via the same, rooftop method.

The sooner his prey fled, the sooner he could find where he made his lair. And from there, it would be time to research.


From what he gathered, the morning curfew was soon to end. And with it, the city would be opened to those who hadn't bribed the police into silence.

Vudke landed from another leap, his cloak shimmering as he examined the building he touched upon. A penthouse suite, where El Hongo fled into in a desperate attempt to escape him. Or, as far as his quarry knew, escape what he thought was a particularly shifty thug pursuing him. He would never know the truth, and that's just what Vudke needed.

None the less, the hunter knelt at the penthouse's skylight, observing the room below. It reeked of criminal opulence, with an indoor pool and countless Matadors scattered about the room, dressed in the same fashion as the others he dealt with throughout the morning. Various scantily dressed women were in the room as well, either chatting it up with the men or trying in vain to evade a clinging one's attention, soliciting them for sex. Working girls, for certain. Ones who were regretting taking on work for their gang.

The double doors flew open, and El Hongo came sprinting in. Out of breath and clearly worked into a fervent panic.

"Fuck! We got problems! We got some fucking problems!" He shouted at the nearest man, causing the mood of the room to drop, and a few working girls to inch away. One man scowled when his "partner" for the morning scurried off in response, causing him to direct his full attention to the mousy man.

"What's wrong, boss? Who's got you all jumpy?" He asked, trying to be understanding.

"I dunno, but someone's fucking with us! Might be a Serviteur who's still wearing the colors or someone ELSE with one of their stupid suits!" El Hongo, out of breath, explained. "Quickly, warn the dealers, tell 'em to watch out for trouble!"

"Eh, sure thing, jefe," he pulled out his phone, as he worked to assure and ease their boss. "it's like you keep telling us, Los Matadores, they're here to stay. Don't you worry 'bout nothing, 'kay?" He was skilled at disarming, then.

"Right…right…I'm gonna go lay down. You," he snapped his fingers and pointed to a girl at random. "with me." With resignment, she followed with him, as the thug dialed a number, then brought it to his ear.

"Hey, it's me. Look, the boss just came in, okay? Looking real jumpy." He paused. "…yeah, jumpier than usual. It looks like someone ain't happy we're taking over. Might be some of the people left by the gangs who got taken out, trying to slice at our ankles and shit. Anyhow, keep your eyes out. Anyone gives you shit? Take 'em out and send a message…yes, a bloody one."

Vudke stood and turned away from the skylight. Towards the streets. The police presence had died down, and now he saw civilians moving along the sidewalk, as cars moved about as well. The curfew had ended, and now people could freely roam the area. More importantly, it meant the gang's dealers would be looking for prey. For victims to sell to and get them hooked on various drugs.

And they would serve as a good warning to Los Matadores. They were not here to stay. And from their echoes, Vudke would learn who armed his prey. Who had the Prometheus Tech and was actively distributing it.

His wristblades slinked free. It was time to go to work.


"Dios mio…what the fuck…?" Vudke perched on a roof, overlooking his handiwork and El Hongo's subsequent reaction to his work. It took most of the day, purely because he decided to take his time in finding them all, but it was done none the less. And now, the hunter could savor the man's utter terror at the sight.

The sight of all his dealers, flayed and left dangling in the alleyway. It took a moment to track each and every single one of them, but he found them all. And now they were all dead, to send a firm message to El Hongo and the rest of his followers. They were not safe.

"Just…gimme a second…gimme a fucking second…" with trembling hands, El Hongo pulled his phone out. "The fuck are you pendejos doing?! Search the area! Find the ones who did this!" His men panicked and scattered, soon leaving El Hongo by himself as he brought the phone to his ear. "Shitshitshit…ah, goddamnit, the bitch isn't picking up! Of ALL times, she decides not to answer the phone now!" He swore and stomped off. Stomping away from the gristly scene.

Vudke trilled at the sight. Los Matadores were alerted, just the way he wanted. For with that alert, they would intensify security and panic. And that meant they would inevitably make mistakes. Mistakes he could use to poke and pry at their defenses until he found the source of their Prometheus Tech.

With that, he leapt away. He had more work to do. And more people to flay.


"Jesus...when will it end...?" Church muttered to himself, watching as the boys took pictures of the dead thugs and collected DNA samples from others. As they put together a crime scene for the latest string of bizarre murders.

"No telling," came the voice of Riddick. Church looked over to his partner as he stepped over, eyes glued to the various dead bodies, some having been cut down mere moments ago, but many others still left to dangle. Like meat in a slaughterhouse. "and I'm upset that I was right. Curfew wouldn't do shit."

"Yet it did at the same time." Church turned towards his partner. "These are all Matadores. One of the last major gangs left in Neonopolis, aside from small splinter gangs that'll die out within the month. And our killer's targeting them now, which means they've been attacking all the organized crime throughout the city."

"Yet it still doesn't rule out what'll happen when these guys are all gone. Is this killer gonna go into hiding, or keep on killing? Or, worse," Riddick sighed. "start targeting us? Because I dunno 'bout you, Church, but I don't think we can take on someone who can kill this many men in such a short amount of time."

Church sighed. "We'll find out. Worst case, we'll pull some strings and detain the gang's leader. Maybe this killer's after him, and if he's in police custody, we can probably goad our killer into looking for him, and right into a police trap."

It was worth a shot, and Church hoped it wasn't their only one.