3 No More Competition

Ozzie was the new drug that everyone was dying to have and due to its limited supply compared to its numerous requests, people started going nuts. The police had arrested two people in possession of it but even after testing it, they couldn't identify any of the ingredients used to make it. Any reverse engineering would lead to failure and more failure. The government thought the supplier would use their inability to know what it was to smuggle more into the country but they never arrested anyone in airports or ports carrying Ozzie. That made them even more confused.

To Paul, Ozzie was the best thing ever in this life except for his reality manipulation. He had increased the price for everyone but his first four customers and bow four grams of Ozzie cost fifty dollars. People seemed to not care about the prize so he rose it again to sixty! But, he made sure he supplied more so, he made a truck and filled it with crates and crates of Ozzie! Then, he employed suppliers after one month since he had enough to do so and four more trucks filled with Ozzie. That was about eight million grams of Ozzie each! In one day, he was making thirty million. Subtracting five million for the five guys each getting one million a month, he was bagging a whooping seven hundred million a month! Talk about being rich!

It has been six months since Ozzie came out and he could now be called a tycoon! He put his money in a bank but never used it because of his Reality Manipulation and also because he was a very stingy person. Anything he wanted he would just wave his hand and get it. Also, after all that time and meditation, his will power rose, making him go for twelve hours of constant reality manipulation. If he stretched out the time, he would go up to eighteen hours before he needed his four hours sleep. He then went into a bottleneck and no meditation would unstuck him!

"Boss, the Scotts are bringing trouble again. They killed one supplier, took his truck and they want us to bring the formula of making Ozzie to their base and they will release the truck to us," one of his guys said. He had a small gang under him now but they never did anything major except protecting their territory. Paul did not need protection money or anything of the sorts so his Ozzie territory, as it was called, was one of the peaceful ones in Washington.

"They have been a constant pain in my neck of late. I will go to them myself," Paul said with dissatisfaction. The guy frowned when he heard that.

"Boss, let me and the boys come with you. We have been having a lot of free time so we have been studying martial arts. We can be of use," he tried to convince him.

"You might but not any time soon. I will go to the place myself," Paul said as he put down his fork. "Henry, I'm going out. Show Timothy the car key, he's gonna drive me there."

"Right away, sir," the ever polite Henry answered and went to fetch the car key as one of the maids cleared the table for Paul as he got up. The other helped him wear a jacket then his shoes before he got out of the house. The car was ready so he got inside and they were off.

His part of DC was clean from any riff Raff thanks to him because he didn't want anyone to just come up and start producing defective Ozzie that caused more damage than any good. He had ordered anyone caught who was not part of his gang to be crippled immediately and it was because of this nobody dared, until the Scotts came. They took over a nearby territory and they have been creeping in his turf for sometime now but his boys didn't complain much. But he himself had had enough, it was time to clear a nest of vipers before they bit him.

The drive was not interesting except for an FBI and DEA car following him. He would just erased them from history but where's the fun in that? He just let them follow but they wouldn't even think about coming to the building when the fight starts.

"Almost there, boss," his guy said as he looked around nervously. They were out of their turf and into the Scotts now and they were not known for their patience with other members of the gang. Paul just nodded, signalling he understood but he still had that stoic look on his face. The car went on for thirteen minutes when it stopped in a large hotel. It was a well known and even its name was Scottish because it was named Scotty Restaurant. Paul had his door opened and he got out as he looked at the building in front of him.

"Timothy, just stay in the car. I don't need you coming in even if you hear gunshots, do you understand?" he commanded him.

"Aye, sir," Timothy said and drove to the parking lot. Paul walked into the restaurant and stood at the welcoming waiter.

"Do you have a reservation?" he asked.

"Yeah, tell the boss Ozzie is here to see him," Paul answered. The waiter was shocked by the name and he quickly phoned the upper management. After exchanging a few words, he put down the phone.

"You are being expected in the third floor, I'm sorry the elevator is out so you will have to take the stairs," he said. Paul nodded and still headed to the elevator. He clicked the button and the doors swung open then closed behind him. They automatically carried him to the third floor, swung open, he walked out and it crashed back down, broken for good this time. The bodyguards outside the room he was going too were scared because they knew just who or what he was, a Metahuman!

"I'm going in," Paul said as he got into the room without waiting for their answer. In the room, he found four people who were all looking at him with a shit eating grin.

"You must be the Ozzie, morning, love," the woman in the room greeted him in a British accent. "Do forgive us if we don't use our accents, we have been told a British accent is the most likable in times like this."

"Tis alright, madam," he replied with his own British accent. "Let us get on with this banter, I have to meet a couple of me mates for some pint and cricket later." Everyone in the room felt like they just ate a fly when he said that. Paul just scoffed and sat down.

"I am here to address the issue of your boys and girls trying to encrouch my turf," Paul came right to the point.

"Is that right? What makes you think that it is your turf? It is ours," one of the men growled. Paul looked at him with a frown.

"Because, you dunderheads are going around spreading news about by inability to lead a group," Paul answered.

"You are very incapable. We know Ozzie is doing just great but you just had to relax and let the people in your turf lax, they will rebel against you because they think you are just a pushover. We were doing you a favour," the woman said. Paul was silent for a while as he pondered over her words.

"You are right, it appears that I have been going easy for a while now," Paul said then looked at the window. "It appears that I need to think big, bigger than my small turf." He then chuckled. "Thank you for your wise words, you will be the first ones to see my rise in power. Homelander." Homelander suddenly appeared in the room but unlike the other one, he had a black suit and an even darker cape, but all his features were the same.

"Understood," Homelander said as he turned to the Scotts, his eyes glowing red. "Your lives are no longer needed." He shot lasers out, cutting each one of them in half. They did not even have time to scream in terror or even for help. When he was done, Homelander turned to Paul. "Do I go after them all?"

"None of them should survive, have some fun if you can," Paul said. Homelander grinned sadistically as he went to the door and kicked it to smithereens. The bodyguards outside quickly aimed themselves and aimed at him as he walked out. Homelander scoffed and shook his head when he saw that. He continued walking towards them, making them open fire. The bullets did not even leave a mark on his suit as he walked towards one of them. He got hold of his neck, turned him around as his other hand got hold of his palm that was still on the gun and opened fire on all of them.

Paul could hear screams of agony and Homelander's laughter even in his room. When five minutes passed, he got out and headed to the elevator, any blood, guts or anything bloody disappeared in front of him, leaving a clean trail in this bloody environment. The elevator came up for him, he got in and he was taken to the ground floor. There, more bodies were waiting for him as Homelander flew around, his lasers cutting the persky bodyguards. Paul got to the parking lot where an anxious Timothy was waiting for him.

"Let's go, our business is done here," he said as he got in. Timothy did not linger as he stepped on the gas, making the car speed away from the restaurant. Just when he thought they were safe, a huge shadow looked over the car, making him look up and saw the whole Scotty Restaurant fly past them and disappear into the horizon. He was so scared he almost peed himself. He looked at Paul through the rear view mirror and saw him just scrolling down on his phone.

"Eyes on the road, Timothy, or you might just die," Paul warned him without looking up from his phone, making Timothy flinch and almost lose control of the car.