It was expected. The noises in here were loud. And they weren't really noises, just the mixture of hundreds of voices all engaged in different conversations.
It felt like I stepped into a conference meeting in the subway station. One that smelled bad.
Yeah. Super packed.
There were artificial lights embedded in the ceiling above, and those lights shone and lit up the entire station.
I flickered my neck, scanning the entire room.
In almost every area, people were positioned. Some stood, some sat, and some just lay down and stared blankly into space.
Hm.
There was one thing these hundreds of people had in common, though.
Whether they were big or small, man or woman, or just children who'd lost their ways, their horror-frozen faces all portrayed the same expression and told the same tale.
They carried the look of dejection.
Most were injured and barely scraping by, while the fortunate ones that weren't injured — as they perhaps ran down to the subway station earlier than the rest — tended to the injured ones, offering them first aid and other wound treatments.
Then I noticed something.
In every corner, there were groups of people.
They grouped themselves, huh.
Each group had about fifty or so people gathered together in different areas around the station.
Where is he?
I kept searching, moving my neck in a bid to find Jerry.
"Looking for Jericho?" Marcus chimed in.
Oh, yeah. He's with me.
I nodded. "Yes, where is he?"
Marcus pointed an index finger.
I traced the direction of his pointed finger, and I spotted Jericho's figure, sitting still at a corner away from the crowd, and away from all the groups of people.
My face lightened up a bit.
I let out a soft chuckle. "You were right. He's brooding."
Marcus bobbed his head slightly, "Correction," He chuckled, "Establishing dominance."
With a small smile on my lips, I shook my head. And I began walking toward him, Unc following suit beside me.
"Hey!" A male voice echoed, aggressiveness oozing from it.
As the voice rang out, both the soft noises, once dominant in the station, and the whispers of ongoing conversation, ceased.
I ignored the voice.
The 'hey' could've been for anybody. I definitely wasn't the only one standing here.
"Hey, you! Blondy!"
I still ignored the voice and kept walking.
There might've been hundreds of other blond people in this place. So it was probably not me.
But my eyes did twitch a little bit.
"Are you ignoring me, fucker?!" The voice got closer. "I'm talking to you, you no-clothes bastard!"
I clenched my teeth and paused, closing my eyes as I raised my head skyward.
I unclenched my teeth, sucking in a deep breath.
Why?
I let out a sigh.
Why ALWAYS me?
Why can't I just rest peacefully?
"I think he's talking to you, Duz," Marcus whispered into my ear.
I opened my eyes. "Yeah, I know."
I narrowed my eyes and turned toward the direction of the voice.
There, just a few steps away from me, stood a man of towering height.
I had to slightly raise my head just to get a proper view of his face.
A nasty frown painted his pale, wrinkled face, outlined by the thin strands of brown–grey hair that lay on his forehead.
The man's fists were clenched, and rage dominated his very carriage.
I scowled.
Who the hell is this old man?
As if answering my question, the man who I assumed was the guard/gatekeeper — the one who'd blocked the entrance — stuck his head out from behind the old man, a mischievous grin plastered on his bleeding face.
My scowl deepened.
The man didn't come alone as he was surrounded by a bunch of imposing, well-built men.
Altogether, they numbered up to 10.
They all had visible scars all over their bodies, and some had fresh or steadily healing wounds, while the rest of them had bandages tied around their arms or legs.
Wounds obviously caused by Rethons.
Now, staring at them all, I narrowed my eyes.
The old me — a couple of hours.. or months ago? — would've frozen at the sight of this many men.
But now…
I clenched my fists.
I can take them all.
I growled, furrowing my brows. "What is it?"
The tall old man's eyes widened ever-so-slightly as his lips parted to spout out dumb questions like, "How dare you?"
I turned to look at Marcus, dumbfounded.
Can you believe this guy?
Marcus raised a brow and shrugged as I pointed at the old man with a thumb.
I looked at the old man again.
This time, his eyes narrowed and darkened. Clearly enraged.
"How dare I what?" I asked, genuinely curious.
The man took a step forward.
I eased my shoulder.
"How dare you walk in when you heard him..." The man pointed at the guard hiding behind him. "Tell you not to come in."
I raised a brow.
"And you are?" I asked.
The man paused. "The one who's… taken charge of this place."
"Ah," I nodded. "I see."
"And how the hell did you even get in?" The man asked.
I looked around the station once more, ignoring his question.
"You know," I said. "I don't see how this place is 'full.'" I looked at the man again. "Sure, it might be packed — super packed even — but there's still space here for about fifty more people to fit in."
I took a step forward, too. "Sounds to me like you're just bullshitting."
The moment I uttered that, the once still hall erupted with synonymous gasps.
The old man's face lightened up, genuinely amused as a small smirk painted his lips.
Again, he took a step forward, his lackeys following behind him.
"Who are you?" He asked.
I paused, looked up and pondered. "Hm."
Who am I?
I smirked.
"I'm Nameless."
As I said that, the man turned to his lackeys and made a tiny movement with his head, pointing toward me.
They all walked forward.
"I'll advise you not to do that if I were you," Marcus interjected, his voice carrying no hostility. "The guy in front of you is crazy."
"Rough him up a bit. And shut the old man up behind him." The 'boss' ordered.
How funny.
My smirk morphed, turning into a mad one.
How genuinely funny.
The insanity that frayed at the edges of my mind — the one I barely held in — began to swim inside my brain.
I crouched.
"Old man?" Marcus asked, his voice turning colder, hostility burgeoning as he stepped forward, clenching his fists.
Immediately, all the lackeys ran toward us.
BANG––!
A gunshot echoed.