“You just got here.
Why are you in such a hurry to leave?” The rough, distorted voice echoed through the narrow basement stairwell.
Paul Marks froze.
The urge to vomit vanished almost instantly, replaced by pure alarm.
He stared at the black figure blocking the stairs.
“Who the hell are you?” Paul’s gaze flicked toward Rick Frey’s headless corpse behind him.
Then back to the stranger.
“You killed him?” The figure’s clothes, the hood hiding his face, and the fact that Paul hadn’t heard him approach all screamed danger.
Every instinct Paul had developed during years in the criminal world told him to create distance.
Leon stepped forward instead.
“Not bad.” His voice remained distorted by Venom.
“I guess being a crew leader means you’re a little quicker than the average idiot.” Another step.
“You got the answer right immediately.” Paul backed away.
Leon followed.
“So here’s another question.” Two pale eyes gleamed beneath the hood.
“Can you guess what’s going to happen to you?” Paul turned slightly, looking for space.
There wasn’t any.
Leon suddenly moved.
Before Paul could react, a black-gloved hand closed around his throat.
His feet left the ground.
“Ghk—!” Paul grabbed Leon’s wrist with both hands.
He struck at it.
Pulled.
Twisted.
Nothing worked.
The grip only tightened.
His face rapidly turned red.
His eyes bulged.
Air stopped reaching his lungs.
Within seconds, Paul’s thoughts began to blur from oxygen deprivation.
I’m going to die.
Just as his consciousness started slipping— The hand loosened.
Paul sucked in air desperately.
Leon gave a low chuckle.
“Sorry.” Paul coughed violently.
“I almost forgot myself.” Leon tilted his head.
“I can’t kill you yet.” His grip remained around Paul’s throat, just loose enough to let him breathe.
“I still have questions.” Paul stared at the featureless black face.
His voice came out hoarse.
“Why?” He swallowed painfully.
“What did I ever do to you?” Leon didn’t answer.
Paul continued, desperately trying to understand the situation.
“Did another crew hire you?” His breathing was still ragged.
“You here because somebody wants trouble with the Bloodhound Syndicate?” Paul’s eyes hardened despite his position.
“If that’s what this is, you don’t know what you’re getting into.” “The Bloodhound Syndicate isn’t some street crew you can wipe out for a payday.” Leon understood immediately.
Paul thought he was a hired killer working for a rival organization.
Even now, the man hadn’t connected this to the college student he’d ordered murdered.
To Paul, killing Leon had probably been insignificant.
Routine.
Like crushing an insect.
There had been no reason to imagine it could ever come back to haunt him.
Leon sighed.
“So you still don’t know why I’m here.” Paul frowned.
“That’s fine.” Black material began to retreat from Leon’s face.
“Maybe this will help.” The hood remained, but Venom peeled away from his features.
Leon’s face appeared beneath it.
Paul stared.
Confusion came first.
Then recognition.
His eyes widened.
“No…” Leon watched the realization spread.
Paul remembered him.
The delivery driver.
The kid who had shown up with the pizzas.
The loose end Harvey Harmon had ordered them to erase.
Paul’s expression shifted into disbelief.
“How the hell…?” That ordinary student was standing in front of him now.
A masked killer.
Possessing strength no normal human should have.
Paul’s stomach sank.
If Leon was here— Then the man Paul had sent to finish him earlier was almost certainly dead too.
“Shit.” Venom flowed back across Leon’s face.
The pale eyes returned.
“Looks like you remember me.” Leon tightened his grip slightly.
“Good.” He didn’t bother wasting any more time.
“Why did you try to kill me?” Paul remained silent.
“And who gave you the order?” Leon’s voice dropped.
“If you don’t tell me who was above you, I’ll assume you were responsible for everything.” He leaned closer.
“And you should understand something before you decide whether loyalty is worth it.” The white eyes narrowed.
“The person who ordered Ben’s death is going to suffer.” Paul’s breathing quickened.
Leon continued.
“If you’re only the messenger, maybe you’ll get a quick death.” A pause.
“But whoever actually gave the order?” His voice became colder.
“I’ll crush him piece by piece.” Paul glared back.
“The Bloodhound Syndicate will destroy you.” Leon said nothing.
“You think you’re strong because you’ve got some weird ability?” Paul’s voice became louder.
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with!” That was his answer.
Leon moved.
Black tendrils erupted from his back.
Paul barely had time to react before they struck.
“AAAAAGH!” Several sharp tendrils pierced his limbs and pinned him against the basement wall.
His scream echoed through the room.
Another tendril flattened into a narrow black blade.
It passed lightly across Paul’s skin.
A shallow cut opened.
Then another.
Leon stood in front of him.
“You can keep pretending to be tough.” He sounded almost bored.
“We have plenty of time.” Paul clenched his teeth.
Leon waited.
No answer.
So the interrogation continued.
The tendrils shifted.
Paul screamed again.
Every ten minutes, Leon stopped.
He gave Paul one minute to decide whether he wanted to talk.
When Paul refused— The next round became worse.
The first time, he held out.
The second time, he still refused.
By the third— His resistance finally broke.
Pain had stripped away whatever loyalty, pride, or confidence he’d been clinging to.
“STOP!” Paul’s voice cracked.
“I’ll talk!” Leon immediately halted.
Paul hung against the wall, breathing hard.
“I’ll tell you.” He swallowed.
“Just…
make it quick afterward.” Leon said nothing.
He simply waited.
Paul took several breaths before starting.
“The whole thing was simple.” His voice was weak.
“That house you delivered to?” Leon listened carefully.
“We were there because of a traitor.” Paul closed his eyes briefly.
“One of our people had been feeding information to another gang.” “That information ruined one of our deals.” “We lost a lot of money.” Leon remembered Harvey Harmon’s house.
The delayed answer at the door.
The strange atmosphere.
Paul continued.
“Our boss, Jon Harmon, was furious.” Leon committed the name to memory.
Jon Harmon.
“He ordered his younger brother, Harvey, to deal with the traitor.” Paul’s expression tightened.
“Not just kill him.” “He wanted everyone in the Syndicate to understand what happens when you betray us.” Leon remained silent.
“So Harvey took us to the house.” Paul breathed heavily.
“Everything went according to plan.” “Until Harvey beat the traitor to death.” Then— “The doorbell rang.” Leon’s fingers tightened.
That was the moment.
The exact point where his life had crossed paths with theirs.
Paul looked toward him.
“We checked.” “You were just delivering pizza.” “But obviously, we couldn’t let you see what was inside.” “Harvey told us not to create unnecessary trouble.” “So he ordered me to answer the door and pretend everything was normal.” Leon remembered Paul taking the pizzas.
The tip.
The door closing.
For one moment, it really should have ended there.
A mistaken delivery.
Nothing more.
Paul continued.
“You would’ve left.” “And none of this would’ve happened.” His eyes shifted.
“But one of the guys moving the body lost his grip.” Leon’s breathing stopped for half a second.
“The corpse fell down the stairs.” The sound returned to him instantly.
That heavy— THUD.
Leon stared at Paul.
“So that’s what I heard.” Paul nodded weakly.
“The body hitting the stairs.” Leon slowly clenched his fist.
Paul continued.
“After you left, Harvey went to where you’d been standing.” “He recreated the whole thing.” “Your position.” “The angle of the door.” “When the body fell, you turned your head.” Paul swallowed.
“And Harvey realized that from where you were standing…” “You could’ve seen inside.” Leon’s eyes went cold.
“The body?” “Yes.” “And the blood?” Paul hesitated.
“Yes.” Silence.
Paul continued quickly.
“We didn’t know how much you’d actually seen.” “But Harvey didn’t want the situation becoming complicated.” “He didn’t want witnesses.” Leon already knew what came next.
Still, hearing it said aloud made something inside him snap.
“So Harvey ordered me…” Paul’s voice weakened.
“To get rid of you.” For several seconds, Leon didn’t move.
That was it.
That was the reason.
Ben York had died because of a wrong delivery address.
Because a corpse slipped from someone’s hands.
Because Leon happened to glance toward a sound.
Because Harvey Harmon decided that murdering an innocent college student was easier than taking a risk.
And because Ben happened to be sitting beside Leon when the truck came.
There was no deeper reason.
No hidden grudge.
No grand conspiracy against Leon personally.
Just convenience.
A casual order to erase a loose end.
Leon’s fist slammed into the wall.
BOOM!
Concrete exploded.
A section of the basement wall shattered beneath the impact.
Chunks of stone crashed across the floor.
Paul flinched violently.
Leon stood amid the dust and rubble, shoulders trembling.
Now he finally knew why Ben had died.
And somehow— The simplicity of the answer made it worse.
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