62 Chapter 63

'What is he? No human should be able to do that. What did he do to Madam to make such a monster her enemy?' he thought.

He ran and ran and ran. Before he knew it, Nikolia was far out into the middle of nowhere. He looked around and saw that no one was following him.

He sighed in relief and looked at the giant full moon shining down on him.

'I need to report this to Madam Pre....' A sudden and inexplicable sensation seized Nikolia. His entire being seemed to succumb to an overwhelming paralysis, rendering him immobile. A profound chill gripped him, causing cold beads of sweat to cascade down his face. In that harrowing moment, an invisible force tightened around his chest, constricting his lungs and inducing an acute struggle for breath. The very air around him felt thick and oppressive, amplifying the fear that had taken hold, transforming a mere pause into a visceral encounter with an unrelenting dread.

Travis was standing behind him, a cold glare in his eyes, unwavering killing intent pouring out of his body. Even worse was the coldness in his aura that froze him in place.

"Tell me, who is Roz?" he asked.

'Huh? He doesn't know who she is?' Nikolia thought.

"Answer me," Travis said. He saw Nikolia's chin trembling as he tried to open his mouth. Travis realized that he had made him too scared to even talk, so he withdrew his aura.

Nikolia fell on his knees as he breathed heavily.

"Will... you let me... live if I tell you?" he asked, gasping for breath between each word, as if the weight of his revelation hung in the air, demanding an answer amidst the struggle for air.

"Sure. I don't really need to kill you. I'd like for you to pass a message to her anyway," Travis said.

'At least I have a use to him, so he probably won't kill me, let's hope he's not lying,' Nikolia thought.

"Madam President, allow me to illuminate the shadows that loom over my homeland. Roz Wazowski, a formidable figure, commands the largest underground gang. Her aura is one of terror, with a network of loyalists ready to execute her every command. Notably, she shares a close friendship with our President. She's aptly named Lady Death; those who cross her path find silence as their only testament, for none survive to narrate their misfortune," he said like your average American man.

"You can speak fluent English. Why did you act as if you were some kind of Russian mob with grammar problems?" Travis asked.

"I wanted to look cool. Now, can I leave?"

"Sure."

"What about the message?" Nikolia asked.

"What message?" Without granting Nikolia a chance to reply, Travis unleashed a forceful blow to his face. The impact left Nikolia's features contorted, his cheek visibly dented from the sheer force. Travis's hand imprint marked a brutal signature on Nikolia's skin. The powerful strike propelled Nikolia backward, sending him hurtling through the air until he collided forcefully with an unyielding boulder, the collision echoing with the harshness of the unexpected assault.

'I should go back home,' he thought.

Travis began running back to where he was dropped, making sure that everyone was dead before he went to check their car.

'Boring, just guns. I'm not in need of any of them, but I could give them to my family for protection,' he thought.

So he picked up their bag and began to sprint back home. He arrived a minute later, leaped high, and landed on the windowsill. Travis stepped inside, placed the guns on the bed, picked up the guy's body, carried him out, and went to the beach. Travis threw him far out into the sea, then walked back home.

He began to clean all the blood until the room was squeaky clean. He sighed, placing the guns in his wardrobe, locked it, and plopped on his bed, instantly passing out.

...

The next morning, Travis woke up feeling refreshed. He no longer felt any pain from yesterday's beating. He checked his leg and saw that the wound was healed and looked as if nothing happened.

"I really love this template." He took his shirt off and checked to see if he had any scars. He was clean, as if he wasn't beaten to a pulp yesterday.

'I'm never doing that; I freakin' hate pain. I should write Ms. Bissette's work before I go downstairs.' He thought.

He got a piece of paper and began writing out the essay.

While he was doing this, in the apartment located in the city, on the very top floor, a person lived there. This was none other than Roz. She sat back on her chair and read the report about what happened yesterday.

'He's a skilled fighter. From what Nikolia said before he died, he killed everyone there blindfolded and with his hands tied. Interesting, I want him under me. With his help, I'll take over this town and get the fortune buried beneath it,' she thought.

...

Travis finished writing his work, placed it in his bag, and then left his room. He firstly wanted to take a shower. So he walked into the bathroom, but it turned out that someone was already there – Debbie. Travis stared at her as she stood under the shower water.

She heard the door closing, so she turned towards him.

"Travis, is there something you need?" She asked as she turned the water off. Debbie walked out naked and stood there without a care in the world.

"Yeah, I wanted to take a shower, but it seems you're still busy," he said.

"Oh, I'll be right out. I'm about to finish anyway. Wait, why don't you and I take a shower together?" She asked.

"Huh, are you for real right now?"

"Yes, is there a problem? Oh, you're an adult now, so you might be embarrassed about taking a shower with your mom, am I wrong?"

"No, I just wanted to confirm. Let's get in," he said as he took off his clothes. Debbie smiled happily, locked the door, and went back inside the shower. Travis followed her, staring at her juicy booty.

'I'm such a lucky guy,' he thought.

TO BE CONTINUED