Chapter 128: Unmovable Wall

Footsteps echoed down the damp stone stairwell as Frank Knox descended into the precinct basement, flanked by two men in tailored suits. Officer Higgins led the way, holding a oil lantern high to cut through the heavy darkness of the corridor.

​When they stopped outside the iron-barred cell, Higgins held up the lantern, casting a yellow glow across Ricky, who hung by his wrists from the wall shackles in his drawers.

​Frank looked Ricky up and down, a slow, ugly grin spreading across his face.

​He reached into his vest, pulled out a crisp ten-dollar bill, and slipped it directly into Higgins’s shirt pocket. "Mind guarding the main door at the top of the stairs, officer? Make sure nobody comes down while I enjoy this myself."

​Higgins didn’t hesitate. He patted his pocket and nodded. "Ten minutes, Frank. Keep it quiet."

​"Red," Frank said, gesturing to one of his suited goons. "Go with him. Make sure we aren’t interrupted."

​Red nodded and followed Higgins back toward the stairs, leaving Frank and his remaining enforcer, a thick-necked man named Sullivan, standing outside the cell.

​Frank unlocked the iron latch, stepped inside, and folded his arms. He looked Ricky up and down, shaking his head. "Last time we ran into each other was down on Gansevoort, wasn’t it? I didn’t bother introducing myself then ’cause I figured you already knew who I was. But there’s one thing you don’t know..." He took a step closer, his dark eyes fixed on Ricky. "I’m five steps ahead of you. You didn’t expect to end up chained to a basement wall, did you? Or maybe you did. Don’t matter much either way—you’re the one pinned to the stone."

​Ricky spat a mouthful of dark saliva onto the dirt floor, scoffing through his teeth. "I didn’t think you’d be even more arrogant and talkative than your brother."

​CRACK.

​Frank’s right fist snapped across Ricky’s jaw, throwing his head against the damp brick.

​"Yeah, I am," Frank snarled, flexing his fingers. "Difference is, I got the power to back it up."

​Without missing a beat, Frank drove a hard left hook directly into Ricky’s ribs. Ricky gritted his teeth, absorbing the impact with his reinforced core, his breath coming out in a sharp hiss.

​Frank watched him, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Quite a tough bastard, ain’t you?"

​Ricky lifted his chin, cracking a bloody smirk. "Is this all you got, Knox? Beating on a man chained up like a dog? You can’t even fight fai—"

​Frank cut him off with a brutal cross straight to the nose. Ricky’s head snapped back hard against the wall. Frank shook out his knuckles, a satisfied smile returning to his face. "Ain’t no such thing as honor in these streets, kid."

​Frank struck him twice more—a heavy blow to the cheek and another sharp punch to the solar plexus. He stepped back, wiping his brow, his breathing growing slightly heavier.

​Ricky let out a low, dry laugh, wiping blood off his lip against his shoulder. "What’s the matter, Frank? Taking so many drugs you’re winded after four punches?"

​Frank’s smile vanished instantly. His brow furrowed in sudden rage. "Oh yeah?"

​He reached into his dark overcoat pocket and pulled out a heavy pair of brass knuckles. He slid his fingers through the iron rings, clicking his fist shut with a metallic snap.

​"Let’s see how smart your mouth is now," Frank muttered, stepping forward and swinging with everything he had.

​THUD.

​The iron metal struck Ricky’s cheekbone, tearing skin and sending blood splattering across the cold floor. Pain flared sharp and white, but Ricky’s 120 Vitality kept the underlying jawbone from shattering. He looked up through the blood dripping into his eye and chuckled.

​Frank swung again. CRACK. And again.

"HAHAHAHAH, MORE, GIVE ME MORE, HAHAHAHA" Ricky said.

​Instead of groaning, Ricky’s laughter only grew louder, echoing off the stone walls of the cell.

​Frank pulled back, staring at Ricky with a mixture of irritation and disgust. "Jesus Christ... you’re crazier than I am. Maybe I hit you in the head too many times. Let’s balance it out."

​Frank buried the brass knuckles deep into Ricky’s stomach. The air rushed out of Ricky’s lungs, a dull groan escaping his throat, but as soon as he caught his breath, he started laughing again.

​Pissed off, Frank delivered punch after punch into his ribs and chest until blood covered Ricky’s front and pooled on the concrete floor.

​Frank finally stepped back, his chest heaving, his face flushed red. He turned to his enforcer. "Take a turn on him, Sully. This guy’s fucking tough—how the hell is he still breathing?"

​Sullivan unbuttoned his suit jacket, hung it over the iron cell door, and stepped up, delivering heavy, methodical punches straight into Ricky’s sides.

​Frank stood back, watching the beating with his hands on his hips. "You shouldn’t have messed with us, Stevenson. I knew you weren’t no ordinary merchant the first time I laid eyes on you. My gut told me. And my gut was proven right when you used that liquor of yours to instigate Kid Yorke and my brother."

​Ricky let his head hang down, slurring his words to play the part of a dying man. "Barney... Barney had it coming... Even if I didn’t step in, his own crew would’ve put a bullet in his back... I only offered him a better line... Not my fault your brother was greedy and stupid as hell..."

​Frank blew a fuse. "Shut your mouth!" He shoved Sullivan out of the way and rained three frantic, brass-knuckled blows straight into Ricky’s face.

​Frank dropped his hands, panting heavily, his knuckles coated in red. "How are you not dead?"

​Ricky lifted his head slowly, blood running down his chin, and flashed a wide, bloody grin. "I eat three meals of rice a day, Knox. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You oughta try it sometime."

​Frank’s eyes turned pitch black with rage. His hand flew to his waist, pulling his snub-nosed revolver from its leather holster. He cocked the hammer back with a sharp, lethal CLICK and pressed the cold iron barrel directly against the center of Ricky’s forehead.

​"Is that so?" Frank whispered, his voice trembling with anger.

​Ricky’s heart beat slow and steady. This is it.

​He narrowed his eyes, staring straight down the barrel of the gun, his smile widening into a taunt. "You can’t kill me, Frank. How’s it feel? Your brother’s killer right in your hands... and you don’t even have the balls to avenge him."

​Ricky let out a loud, mocking laugh that rang through the basement.

​Frank’s expression froze into absolute, unfeeling stone.

​In that fraction of a second, Ricky opened his System interface and dumped all 52 remaining stat points straight into Vitality.

​An explosive wave of dense heat surged through his bone marrow, his internal framework hardening beyond human limits just as Frank pulled the trigger.

​BANG!

​A deafening roar shattered the basement, a flash of orange fire illuminating the dark cell.

​Upstairs by the heavy door, Sergeant Miller and Officer Higgins gasped as the gunshot echoed up the stone steps.

​"Shit!" Miller cursed, drawing his service weapon and plunging down the stairs into the dark. "He killed him!"