Self-defence...?

Randolph's rough shout caused the thin man's ears to ring loudly. But he couldn't cover up and lay prone, subject to the shouting as the wind had been knocked entirely out of him.

"Randolph, please! We can talk about this!" John attempted to intervene, grabbing Randolph's arm, but the young man easily shook him off.

"Don't test me, John."

The snapping of two fingers sounded out as a sheet of paper manifested itself between Randolph's fingers. The heat of the flames were rough for Trevor, especially as his hand was held so close to the man. It singed his hair, forcing him to shut his eyes.

On the contract was only a single clause of privacy, emboldened and large.

He held the contract in front of Trevor's face, glaring at him.

"Heh." But the man only smirked despite his rough breathing.

"Why?"

"Gah!" Grabbing him by the collar, Randolph slammed the man into the ground again.

"Why are you pushing me this far? Why attack me? Nobody would believe you even if you told them." His words were spoken through a low growl.

"Ha… Ha… Do you think I haven't considered that already? Why else would I have decided to confront you?" Trevor spoke through gritted teeth, his spittle flying as he forced the words out. "But I do know that there's a certain group out there that would more than happy to learn of your little windfall!"

Trevor couldn't allow Randolph to leave. It had been mentioned before in the factory, it was obvious that he would simply abandon the city. At that point, there would be no way for him to capitalize on the information he had gained.

Even if he did, there'd be no way for him to get a slice of the pie. Therefore, only one option was left remaining to him.

"You…" The threat shocked Randolph to the point that he loosened his grip, letting Trevor fall to the ground.

"Just give it up, you fucker. Give me the god damned money!"

The man continued with his threats, but Randolph automatically filtered them out. The pain from his loss had happened just barely over a day ago, yet the man felt the need to bring up the loan sharks again.

The darkness and despair from the event was still fresh in his mind, as if it had been seared there with a hot iron.

And now, just the moment he had allowed himself to feel hope again, it was showing signs of cracking.

Randolph's face turned emotionless and he felt his emotions calm down. His heartbeat slowed to a crawl as he stood up, stepping over Trevor.

Reaching down to the ground, he picked up the fallen four-footed walking cane before lifting it high above his head.

Trevor just barely had the time to register what was happening, his hand still clutching his stomach, before the cane fell.

"AAHHHHHH!"

Along with the subsequent dull thud came a scream of intense agony and disbelief.

The noise paused for a second before the cane raised yet again.

"AAAHHHGH!"

And again.

"ARGGHHH!"

And again.

"GAARGGH!"

Loud repeated thuds echoed out in the large private room as Randolph continued his swings, each individual hit being stronger and more brutal than the previous.

He aimed for the head, swinging as hard as he could in an attempt to kill the man as quickly as possible, but unfortunately, his lack of experience showed.

Blood and teeth spewed out from the thin man's mouth as he cried out in pain. His head began to bleed in multiple places as it softened from the beating.

"PLEASH! PLEASHE SHTOP, I'M SHORRY!"

Seeing as to how the man still had the strength to cry out, Randolph felt bile rising up from his stomach. It forced its way up his throat, almost spewing out had he not forcibly swallowed it back.

His heart began pumping again, but he forced the negative feelings back utilizing his adrenaline. He merely gripped the stick tighter with both hands, continuing to focus on single-mindedly swinging the cane with even more force than before.

He grunted out loud with the effort as he put his entire body into it, perhaps in an attempt to drown out the man's death throes.

Randolph didn't know how to quickly end the man's life. Logical told him to go for the man's head, but a human's vitality proved far stronger than he had previously thought.

I am killing a person.

Even throughout Trevor's horrified screams and John's blank stare, even throughout the dull thuds that sounded out in the room, his thoughts were strangely clear.

The nausea he felt was intense, but something deep down, perhaps a demon inside of him, whispered to him.

It told him that if he didn't start swinging, if he didn't continue swinging, then he would only feel regret later. And he didn't want to feel regret.

It was why he forced down the emotions in his heart. In his eyes burned a fierce resolve, along with a weak but intense hint of insanity. 

It was only until a few minutes later that Trevor stopped his warbled shouting.

The man's head was basically a pile of mush beneath Randolph, his blood leaking down onto the wooden flooring beneath. His body twitched occasionally, speaking towards the violent struggle before he died.

Randolph panted heavily as he stood looking down at the body. His hands and legs were shaking slightly, but his grip on the cane was tight and firm.

The privacy contract he had generated before was on the floor, soaked in the man's blood.

Reaching down, Randolph picked it up with one hand before tearing it apart.

The two halves of the contract that fell erupted in a burst of flame, disappearing before they could even each the floor. With their eruption came the intense smell of blood that shot through the room.

"…Guh." Maybe the stinging smell woke John up, as he finally managed to utter a strangled noise from his throat.

He stared with his eyes nearly bulging out of his head, his gaze swapping between Randolph, the cane in his hand, and the pile of flesh on the floor. His expression was one of utter shock.

"Y-YOU! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Pointing a trembling finger at Randolph, the man screamed in horror.