KnifePoint

The rain lashed at the streets, causing the neon lights to shimmer in the puddles. Zero had always loved the rain, but tonight, it felt different. It felt cold, unforgiving.

Turning a corner, he was met with a sight he wouldn't soon forget. A faded sign hung crookedly, barely visible through the heavy rain: "KnifePoint".

Pushing the door open, he was met with the acrid smell of stale smoke. The room was dimly lit, revealing a man with salt-and-pepper hair sitting behind a desk littered with paperwork. The walls had a few pictures of what looked like prized racehorses, alongside a handful of certificates and licenses that seemed dubious at best.

"I hear you're the ones to talk to when traditional banks turn their backs," Zero began, his voice hesitant.

The man looked him up and down, taking a long drag from his cigar before exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Depends on what you're here for."

"I need a loan, fast," Zero replied, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.

"How much?" the man questioned, leaning back in his creaky chair.

"$50,000. I can pay it back. I just need a little time."

A grin formed on the man's face. "At KnifePoint, we can give you any amount, any time. But the interest is steep. 10% a week. Miss a payment and it doubles. And we always collect."

Zero hesitated for a moment, calculating the dangers. "Fine, I accept."

The man laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle. "I like your spirit. But remember, once you deal with KnifePoint, there's no backing out."

As Zero lurked in the shadows, this haunting memory replayed in his mind. It was a vivid remembrance of his past dealings with KnifePoint, a mistake from his prior life. Back then, his addiction to betting on street fights had left him in the merciless grip of the very gang now tormenting his father. The irony wasn't lost on him; the same gang that had ended his life once was now threatening his family in this life.

Concealed behind a stack of crates, the urgency in his father's voice ripped Zero from his thoughts. "I swear I'll settle the debt, just grant me a little more time."

The largest of the goons, clearly the ring leader from his imposing stature and tone, retorted sharply, "You've already overstepped your grace period. Our leniency has its limits."

Another, with a snake tattoo winding up his neck, sneered, "You should've thought about the consequences before borrowing."

Zero's heart raced, torn between action and inaction. Charging in now would only endanger his parents further. He needed to play the long game, lure KnifePoint's attention onto himself later, away from his family.

The atmosphere thickened, every sound amplified by the tension in the air. The chilling slap of rain against concrete echoed ominously, painting a grim backdrop for the unfolding scene.

The first goon's fist connected with Zero's father's abdomen, producing a hollow, gut-wrenching thud. It was the sort of sound that's only made when muscle and bone absorb an ungodly amount of force. Zero's vision blurred momentarily from the sheer horror of it, his eyes taking a split second to register the agonized crumple of his father's form onto the asphalt.

Almost ritualistically, the remaining thugs encircled the defenseless man, their shadows melding in the dim light, creating a predatory dance of menace. Each blow delivered, each kick struck, seemed synchronized in its brutality. Zero could hear the squelch of damp shoes connecting with flesh, the muted gasps of his father fighting for breath, and the cruel laughter of the thugs, delighting in their power and dominance.

It was the largest of the lot who finally called a halt to the violence, his voice dripping with a malevolent glee that seemed to slither through the air. "Enough. We don't want him dead... yet. He's still got a debt to pay, after all."

That voice seemed to reverberate, an awful soundtrack to the wicked tableau before Zero. The thug's laughter was cold, devoid of any humanity – it was the sound of pure sadistic pleasure. "Tick tock," he taunted, leaning down so that his foul breath brushed against the injured man's ear. "You've got a week. And should you fall short... well, we might just find other ways to extract payment. You have a beautiful wife right?" His eyes glinted malevolently in the dim light, his smirk widening as his gaze shifted momentarily in the direction of Zero's hidden location. With one final, vile gesture, he spat at the broken father figure on the ground, each droplet reflecting the little light there was, before signaling his pack of wolves to retreat into the enveloping darkness.

The surrounding shadows seemed to quiver and deepen as a palpable tension saturated the air, drowning out even the persistent rhythm of the rain. From the dim recesses of the alley, tiny droplets tumbled, not merging with the rainwater but standing out with a stark, sinister hue.

'I'll kill them'

Ruby droplets, born not from the skies but from the depths of Zero's escalating fury.

His fist was clenched so tightly that the pale crescents of his nails had dug into the soft flesh of his palm, splitting skin and releasing a rivulet of blood. This silent testament to his anger traced a path down his wrist, stark against his pale skin.

'I'll kill them'

'I'll kill them'

The dark aura that emanated from Zero was almost palpable, like a black fog rising and swirling around him. It bore down heavily, a suffocating pressure that promised violence and vengeance. His eyes, usually so calm and calculating, now gleamed with an otherworldly light. They were windows to a storm of fury and pain, so intense that it felt as if they could burn holes through the very fabric of reality.

Anyone unlucky enough to encounter him in this state would instinctively know that they were in the presence of something dangerous, something primal. It wasn't mere anger, it was an ancient wrath, a force of nature. Bloodlust dripped from him, not just from his hand but in the very air around him, making it heavy and charged.

It was as if the very universe acknowledged his fury and responded in kind, darkening the skies and intensifying the rainfall, an orchestra of nature playing a symphony of impending doom.

'ILL FUCKING KILL THEM ALL'

The black Maserati, parked discreetly to the side, was a haven of normality compared to the tempestuous atmosphere outside. Inside, Tom was in his own world, savoring every bite of the crispy chicken. The salty juices and crispy skin were a distraction from the storm both outside and brewing within Zero.

However, the moment the passenger door swung open, Tom's little bubble of bliss popped. The weight of Zero's fury seemed to fill the car, making the space feel almost claustrophobic. The scent of blood mixed with the aroma of fried chicken, creating a juxtaposition of comfort and danger.

Tom froze, a chicken bone held limply in his hand, his eyes widening as he caught a full glimpse of Zero's current state. Words got stuck in his throat, replaced by a gulp of concern. "Boss...?" he managed, his voice quavering slightly.

The short silence that ensued was oppressive, as Zero's dark aura clashed with the cozy confines of the Maserati. When Zero finally spoke, his voice was icy cold, "Your laptop. Now."

Handing over the laptop without a word, Tom watched intently as Zero showed him a photograph on his phone. The faces of the thugs were clearly visible, the neon lights of the city giving them an otherworldly glow.

"Find them," Zero commanded, his voice dripping with restrained fury. "Everything about them – their boss, their backers, their hideouts. I want to know every single detail."

Tom nodded, swallowing hard. He immediately set to work, his fingers flying over the keys. The dim glow of the laptop screen illuminated the interior of the Maserati, casting eerie shadows that flickered in tandem with Tom's rapid keystrokes. Zero's intense gaze never left the screen, waiting for any information that would lead him to those who had wronged his family.

Tom, sensing the gravity of the situation, focused entirely on his task, pushing aside his hunger and concern, realizing that their priority had drastically shifted.

Suddenly, a notification appeared in Zero's mind.

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Calm Mind Rank F has detected heightened emotions. Activating now.

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A sense of serenity washed over Zero, replacing the chaotic whirlwind of emotions that had threatened to overwhelm him. The dense atmosphere inside the Maserati lightened, and Tom felt the oppressive weight lifted, allowing him to draw a much-needed breath.

Zero inhaled deeply, steadying himself, and then exhaled. "I apologize, Tom. I need all the information on them by tonight," he finally spoke, his voice noticeably calmer yet still tinged with urgency.

Tom simply nodded in response, the rapid nod reminding Zero oddly of a chicken pecking at grains, especially given the remnants of their recent meal. Pushing the thought aside, Tom kept his thoughts to himself, sensing that Zero needed some distance.

Zero collected the box of chicken from the back seat and stepped out of the car. Tom watched as his figure slowly blended with the rain-soaked surroundings. The downpour seemed to intensify, mirroring the turmoil that lay ahead, painting a somber picture of what was yet to come.