What It Means To Be King

Chapter 33: When Trust Is Placed, Responsibility Comes Alongside

What would happen if I download a game? 

The answer is that I wouldn't update nearly as often, so nope. 

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"If karma doesn't kill you I fucking will!"

Shao Long hoisted the man up by the collar and slammed him to the nearest wall, the impact enough to make him see stars. Gasping for a breath, the man grasped for Shao Long's wrists, hands shaky from pain and fear. "Please, please forgive me." He whimpered. If only he had opened his eyes a little wider or see more clearly, then maybe he would've been unprepared to see the sight before him now. Shao Long, a murderous look on his face, eyes seething with burning rage. 

"Forgive?" Shao Long whispered, only so that he could hear and no one else. Let it be confidential that to Shao Long, apologies are hilarious to him if words and actions do not correlate. This man had already formed a deal with someone to kidnap them, and having experienced first hand a few kidnapping events in his life, he knew that these kinds of deals could not be broken just because the targets threw them a little bit of punches. 

"Exit. Keys. Location of the control room. Tell me all and maybe I'll forget you." 

A soft clank behind Shao Long told him that someone else had finally, bitch fucking finally, managed to deal with the locks. Shao Long didn't really need to turn his head to guess that that person was Charles. A sigh left his lips when he heard footsteps treading around the hall, slow and calculating. The gang leader had already turned into a stuttering mess, muttering a few of the things here and there, in hopes that he didn't piss Shao Long off more than he already did. Shaky hands reached for the chain tied to his belt and grabbed the keys to the place.

Shao Long reluctantly let go of the man's collar, letting him slide down the wall from weak and trembling knees. The shaky hand desperately hung in the air, keys in hands as if offering the piece of metal to a God, but hell, Shao Long was no God. He may be the least beast-like among him, Anubis and Leo, but he did not score any less than them with being a rude ass bitch. Without sparing the man's pitiful display, Shao Long yanked the keys from his hands and threw them to where the sound of steps came from, or specifically, where Charles was. 

The noise from when the key landed into someone's palm eased Shao Long a bit. Turns out, not all of them were hopeless, and that at least in this situation, Charles could fill in the part where he could not. Every single one of the princes, and Alex as well, had seen him going on a rampage, and he knew from then on, their views on him would change. Not to mention the ultimate heart-breaking event where Shao Long was officially labelled a villain while he was just trying to help. At this point, he was pretty sure that if one of them still had a good impression of him before — most likely none other than Alex — then they most certainly don't now. 

That aside, Shao Long had more pressing matters to be concerned with. When he pressed on the spot where he was hit earlier on the head, he noticed that he was actually bleeding again, and the swelling had started being a bitch, which meant that it hurt like fucking hell. If he had ice, then maybe that swelling could be reduced, but where was he now? In a hall full of prison cells, with twenty unconscious men littered around and probably more of which currently swarming the place, on guard and such, and not to mention the few other princes who were waiting to be saved by knight in red shirt roughly tied to his hips. 

Wait, did he get a concussion from that? Crap. Maybe he did, because the room started to sway again, and before Shao Long could address the amount of blood currently oozing from his head alone at that time, the ringing in his head came right fucking back, causing him to hiss. With a pained heave of breath, he dropped to his knees, as slow as possible as to not aggravate his injuries, one hand still clasping to the swelling on his head, begging for it to calm the fuck down. Once his ass touched the ground, Shao Long let out a quiet grunt. His brain felt like soup being swirled by a ladle, and the said soup also made his stomach churn, which was probably why he felt like puking right now.