Chapter 62: Price Of Victory

Chapter 62: Chapter 62: Price Of Victory

Victor took a few seconds to catch his breathe.

"Damn, I need an armament or potion for stamina, and maybe something for my muscles." He strained, massaging his shoulders.

And then he walked over them, deliberately stepping onto each fallen D-Ranker’s limbs in turn, hands and legs both, grinding down with his full weight until they broke underneath.

Both men screamed in pain each time he crushed a limb.

Mira watched shocked at his cruelty.

However, it was not that Victor was cruel. It was just that he needed the lesson to drive home enough, that they did not come back, or if they attempted it, they knew the risks.

He walked over to Cleaver last.

Mira’s eyes were still fixed on him, and her chest still heaving from the fight.

She raised the axe toward him. "You said no weapons."

"I had to keep an ace in my sleeve," Victor said, taking it back from her.

She blinked, studying his empty hand a second too long. "Where’d you even—"

The axe vanished in static, right in front of her.

She froze, staring at the empty space. "...You have an awakened ability?"

"Something like that." Victor admitted, not bothering to explain further.

A faint flicker of envy crossed her face before she caught herself. Victor just chuckled.

He knew the rule from reading Manwha and watching anime. Telling another person your ace was a no no. But for some reason he couldn’t pin down, he felt like he could trust her.

He turned back to Cleaver.

The man lay curled on the ground. His blood pooled underneath him, but it was slower now. As an experienced Ranker, he knew how to tighten his muscles around a wound in order to obstruct blood flow.

Victor crouched beside him. "They told me you’re the captain of this gang. The Real boss."

Cleaver let out a weak, bitter laugh. "You’ve got no idea. I’m not even close to the captain. Just a goon who runs this corner of it."

Victor punched him across the face without hesitation, not particularly caring about the answer. "Then make sure this message gets passed up the chain. Stay out of my neighborhood. Next time, I’ll take your neck with me."

Fear, genuine and unmistakable, surfaced in Cleaver’s eyes.

"Oh. Right." Victor straightened. "You still owe me five hundred thousand."

Cleaver’s mouth opened, some protest already forming.

"Relax. I know exactly where to find it."

He stood and scanned the warehouse floor.

"What are you looking for?" Mira asked.

"Ever watched a movie? Read a manga?"

She shook her head.

Victor gave her a pitiful look. "You really missing on the best part of living."

"Well, regardless, the same rule applies everywhere. Gangs deal with too much illegal things and do not trust banks."

He looked around the place. "If this is the boss room, Then there must be a stash here...somewhere."

Then his eyes landed on the card table, and underneath it, a faint seam in the concrete, a line too straight to be natural wear.

He smiled, shoved the table aside, and waved his axe from the inventory again.

He brought the axe down twice, cracking the floor open.

Beneath it sat a small vault. It had stacks of cash packed along one side, and jewelry glittering on the other.

Mira’s eyebrows rose. "Oh."

"Exactly."

"No—" Cleaver’s voice cracked, desperate. "Please, don’t touch that. That’s everything, our life savings, we were going to retire—"

"Should’ve thought of that before you came after my neighborhood." Victor spotted a pair of duffel bags tossed in the corner.

He grabbed them, and started loading cash into both, counting off stacks methodically.

"We’re robbing them?" Mira questioned, watching him work.

"Trust me. They don’t need it."

Once both bags were full, he walked to the side wall where a canister of kerosene sat among other supplies, and poured a generous amount over what remained in the vault. ℯ𝕝.

"NO. NO, PLEASE—" Cleaver and the other D-Ranker were both screaming now, crawling uselessly toward him.

Victor struck a match, held it a moment, and dropped it in.

Flames roared up instantly, swallowing the remaining cash whole.

Mira stared at the blaze, then at him. "You’re actually ruthless, you know that?"

Well, this is how it’s done in animes. You have to really cripple them for the message to drive home. ⅇℓ.

Besides, Victor had began to understand how power worked.

"Want some?" He held up one of the bags, offering it to her.

"No. I’m good."

He shrugged, genuinely a little surprised. Most people wouldn’t turn down free money, but he understood — and honestly, after the life he’d lived, he wasn’t about to pretend he had some moral high ground about taking it himself.

He valued life, sure. He wasn’t a saint about much else.

Again, the fire wasn’t really about the money. It was about making sure the lesson actually stuck.

With Cleaver and his men still sobbing over the burning cash behind them, Victor and Mira walked out.

As he did, he took out a cell phone.

"Hello, is this the police? Yes, I’d like to report a gang war. Yes, it’s at the southern cargo strip. Please hurry, there is a lot of fire, and blood..." he cut the call, and squeezed tge phone, breaking it.

"Burner phone." He explained.

She nodded, impressed by his meticulousness. Then again, she still had a question. "Was that really necessary? They are going to know that Rankers did it."

"You mean they are going to be grateful. Besides, since we didn’t kill anyone, I am sure they are going to dismiss it quickly."

She merely frowned, wondering where his confidence was coming from?

She sighed, removing her face mask. Her hair dancing behind her, the night sky reflecting her glistening skin.

"Thank you, Victor. I needed that." Then she turned to leave. "Till next the time you want to punch a person in the face."

Victor stood a while, watching her fade into the distance, and then he also left. But the moment he turned onto the next street, he broke down on the ground, biting into his arm, as a gut wrenching scream escaped his mouth.