THE Golden Eyez

What's your game?"

On the other side of town, Avyan was in a factory with one of his associates, John, standing behind him. John, dressed in a black suit, wore a mask that revealed only his lips and eyes. Avyan, also sporting a mask, had striking green eyes. Both men held guns, their grips steady and determined. The factory was filled with goons, each wearing black clothes and masks, their eyes glittering dangerously behind their coverings. Guns were clenched in every hand, the atmosphere thick with tension. Avyan moved forward cautiously, while John advanced from the opposite direction, their eyes scanning the room for any sign of a threat.

The factory's dim lighting cast long shadows, making every corner a potential hiding spot for danger. The air was thick with the smell of oil and metal, and the faint hum of machinery added to the oppressive atmosphere. Avyan's green eyes darted around, taking in every detail as he advanced slowly, his finger resting lightly on the trigger.

John mirrored his movements, his eyes flicking to Avyan for a brief moment before focusing back on the task at hand. The two moved with a practiced precision, a silent understanding between them.

Suddenly, a noise echoed from the far end of the factory. Both men froze, their eyes narrowing as they strained to locate the source. The goons around them tensed, their guns raised and ready. A flicker of movement caught Avyan's attention, and he signaled to John with a subtle nod.

Without a word, they split up, each moving silently towards the noise. Avyan kept his steps light, his breathing controlled, while John took a more direct approach, his eyes sharp and calculating. The goons shifted nervously, their fingers tightening on their triggers.

As Avyan rounded a corner, he came face to face with a group of masked figures. He raised his gun, his voice low and commanding, "Drop your weapons, and no one gets hurt."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, one of the figures lunged forward. A shot rang out, and the factory erupted into chaos. Gunfire echoed through the space as Avyan and John fought their way through the throng of goons. Bullets ricocheted off metal surfaces, and the air filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder.

Amidst the chaos, Avyan's eyes locked onto a door at the back of the factory. He gestured to John, who nodded in understanding. Together, they pushed forward, cutting through the opposition with lethal efficiency.

As they reached the door, Avyan kicked it open, revealing a dimly lit office. Inside, a man sat at a desk, his eyes wide with fear. Avyan stepped forward, his gun trained on the man. "Where is the shipment?" he demanded, his voice cold and unyielding.

The man trembled, his hands raised in surrender. "It's in the warehouse next door. Please, just don't kill me."

John stepped into the room, his gun still raised as he scanned the area. "Let's move," he said to Avyan, his voice steady.

With one last glance at the trembling man, Avyan turned and followed John out of the office, ready to face whatever awaited them next.

As Avyan and John left the office, they moved with a sense of urgency, knowing the next phase of their mission was just beginning. Avyan, the beginning mafia boss, exuded a commanding presence, while John, his trusted agent, remained alert and focused.

They navigated through the maze of the factory, their steps echoing in the dim light. The sound of gunfire had subsided, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Avyan's green eyes scanned their surroundings, ever watchful for any lingering threats.

Reaching the door to the adjacent warehouse, Avyan paused, signaling John to take position. John moved swiftly, checking the perimeter before nodding to Avyan. With a swift kick, Avyan forced the door open, revealing a sprawling warehouse filled with crates and containers.