Prologue

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EARLY NOTICE

I am not a perfect writer. There will be a lots of mistakes or "annoying words" in this book. I got a lots of complaints about that but really... I can't be bothered to edit this book anymore since I really don't have the time and will to do so.

And do try to keep the limit of negativity. I do enjoy readers cursing my characters but the ones who stopped midway to complained that this story is not as you've expected is just discouraging. You can hate the characters but not the storyline. If you do, then what are you doing here?

Hahaha~

I've given many warnings already and it really is your decision to continue reading. But if you feel like the plot is not your cup of tea, it is best to kindly leave quietly and unmark this book.

Thank you and let's enjoy the journey ahead~

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Please feel free to correct my writings and relay your frustration in the comment! :)

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The night begins to get darker, quieter and vacant. There seems to be no human presence as the vision can see on this wide grassy field. But among all of the calmness of the night, a ray of light is seen seeping out from the windowless abandoned building that is not far from the field, as the grassy ground itself is located at the far outskirt part of the city.

Despite the surrounding is mostly filled with the sound of cicadas, either talking or berating with each other, the room inside the abandoned building where the artificial warm light hits are instead being filled with the sound of a man, groaning in between series of hard punches that are aimed at his already beaten up body.

The man, a middle-aged man, is seen being punch by another much younger man in a suit, with another 6 wearing the same suit surrounding the scene. Inside the circle also sits their leader, looking the fanciest dressed in an expensive all-black pair of trousers and shirt with both sleeves rolled until the elbow, showing his veiny hands that are decorated by gold accessories and full of tattoos. The boss is casually leaning back on the metal chair with a cigar in between his thin lips. His onyx orbs intensely stare at the violent scene without blinking, paying attention to every punch and groan that either side let out.

It is obvious that the fight wasn't a fair one. As the older man not only has a chubby body, he's also not as young as his opponent. But the other doesn't care about the difference and continues to punch the man, making sure to hit the vital areas to inflict more pain and damage.

The middle-aged man cried one last time as a punch had successfully landed on his stomach, making him crouch in pain on the dusty ground. Blood had been pouring out of his mouth and temple with dirt sticking to his sweaty skin.

The boss then finally raises his decorated hand up, stopping his henchman to hit any further. And the breathing time quickly makes the middle-aged man kneels in fear, lifting up his gaze while stutteringly pleads to the powerful man in front of him, "B-Boss S-Sargon... I apologize f-for my mistake... Please... spare me..."

The boss, who we now know the name as Sargon, keeps his gaze down as the stare directly belittle the much older man. Then, Sargon let the smoke out along with his breath as he brings down his left leg that had rested on top of his right. As his boot stomps to the ground, the dust around it puffs along with the force of his step.

Sargon tilts his head ever slightly as he brings both his index and middle tattoed fingers, which are adorned with gold rings, to clamp the cigar and release it from his mouth, bringing it down along with his veiny hand. The boss then leans his muscular body forward, making the necklaces that hang loosely on his neck to dangled along with the movement. His cat-shaped eyes turn sharper, glaring to the pleading man without showing any glimpse of pity, "You got the guts to even say sorry after shamelessly stealing from me, Frank."

The beaten much older man, Frank, makes an effort to raise his chubby body and rub both of his palms together. He then begins to beg again to the handsome man in front of him, "P-Please, Boss! I-It's not my intention to steal from you! I-I just need it for-"

"Oh?" Sargon cuts the pleading as his thin lips smirk in amusement, "Corrupting is not an intention, huh? So you're stealing 5 million from me under your subconscious? Are you taking me for a fool?"

"N-no! I mean-"

"No? So you're indeed aware?" Sargon interrupts again with his domineering stare frightening the latter, "First, you steal, then, you dare to be dishonest with me. So I assumed you're a liar as well then, huh?"

The man didn't answer and just continues to look at Sargon in fear. The ugly expression, pissed him off as he abruptly stands up and kicks Frank hard on the chin, making the older man fall back to the dusty ground while groaning in pain.

"Stop looking at me with your fucking ugly face," Sargon complains while clenching his jaw in annoyance. He then approaches in a long stride to violently stomps on the man's chest hard with the heavy boots that he wears. His thin lips utter out with cold baritone voice in between the man's agonizing cry, "I have enough of your bullshit, Frank. Trying to fool me by pretending to be innocent. I have been very kind to you by cutting the price of your daughter's freedom but this is how you repay my generosity?"

The mention makes Frank's anger raise up, ignoring the intense fear he once felt, "YOU BASTARD!! YOU FUCKERS KIDNAP HER AND FORCED HER TO BECOME A STRIPPER!! YOU GANG-RAPED HER!!! BUNCH OF FUCKING SADISTS!!! I FU-Oommhff."

Sargon stops the ranting by stepping on the man's mouth, blocking any sound with the thick sole of his boots. After letting out a lazy groan and taking a whiff of the cigar in his right hand, his onyx orbs gaze down in displease.

"You talk too much," Sargon mutters before finally raising and stomp to press his boot deeper, ignoring the wail and the crack of the man's skull underneath him.

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Thank you for reading my work!

I sincerely hope you enjoy my writing :)

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