A villain?
What is a villain, exactly?
A bad person? Someone who hurts good people?
Mm. Perhaps.
Or maybe...
A villain is something far more interesting.
A beautifully deranged creature who seeks destruction without apology. Someone who hurts others but never themselves. Someone who is selfish, ruthless, and perfectly willing to crush anyone standing in their way beneath the heel of their shoe.
Is that what you call a villain?
Oh, dear.
Does that mean I am one?
All my life, I have stood above others—and I made sure they knew it.
I wanted things, so I took them.
I made decisions without caring who suffered because of them.
I chose myself.
Again and again.
Does that make me a villain?
If putting my own desires before everyone else's is enough to condemn me...
If taking what I want without begging permission is enough to place me among monsters...
If refusing to bow, apologise, or make myself smaller for the comfort of others makes me wicked...
Then, darling—hand me that motherfucking crown.
I'll stand tall and proud beneath its weight and let the whole world look up at me.
I'll embrace every word and show you what it means to truly be a villain.
~ Kashi Saints
💜~~~~~~~~~
Sixty-three.
Sixty-four.
Sixty-five.
Sixty—
Sixty…
Crack.
The assailant's skull broke beneath Chaos's hand.
Chaos paused.
Sixty what?
He looked down as the last man in the room crumpled, joining the bodies scattered across the warehouse floor.
His gloved hands were soaked in blood. Damp strands of hair clung to his face, and the black compression shirt moulded to his body was stained red, along with his cargo trousers and boots.
Chaos breathed out.
This was boring.
He wiped a streak of blood from his cheek, then bent and picked up a dagger lying near his feet. Turning it once in his hand, he examined the blade with mild interest.
This should do.
He walked out of the warehouse and into the open air.
The night breeze brushed over him, cool against his heated skin.
"Bratan!"
[Brother]
Alex's voice carried across the yard.
Chaos turned.
Alex approached in heavy strides, his boots striking the ground with careless confidence. When he reached him, he leaned to one side and peered into the warehouse.
A beat.
Then he clicked his tongue.
"Aww. Not fair. You finished before me."
Chaos gave a quiet laugh and handed him the dagger.
Alex accepted it, immediately inspecting the weapon. "Fancy." He raised a document file splattered with blood.
Chaos glanced at it. "We're done, then."
"Mm."
The sharp thrum of helicopter blades cut through the air above them.
Both men looked up.
A helicopter descended near the warehouse, its landing whipping dust and loose debris across the ground. The door slid open, and a large man dressed in a hood and mask stepped out.
He surveyed the area once.
Then his gaze settled on them.
He approached at an unhurried pace and stopped before Chaos and Alex, tilting his head as he looked between them.
Both lowered their heads.
"Predvestnik."
[Harbinger.]
Harbinger reached up and removed his mask.
A scarred face emerged beneath it, the remnants of old violence running from his cheek down his neck. The wound had healed long ago, but it left him looking carved rather than born.
"Where is it?"
Alex handed him the document and dagger. Harbinger examined both before looking back at them, evidently satisfied.
"The Master will be pleased." He tucked the items away. "A new shipment arrives next week. He wants you to handle it."
His attention shifted to Chaos.
Chaos's gaze sharpened. "What's in it?"
"The regular." Harbinger smiled. The scar twisted with the expression, making it almost inhuman. "Humans."
Beside Chaos, Alex recoiled. "Yuck." He stuck out his tongue.
Chaos drove an elbow into his side.
Harbinger's smile widened. "What? It's not as if you don't know."
"I thought we'd outgrown trafficking," Alex muttered.
"You cannot outgrow anything." Harbinger's tone remained flat. "Besides, this batch is special. They are for the Red Dragon House." He gave Alex a heavy pat on the shoulder.
Alex's mouth twisted. "Still a nasty business. Good thing I'm not in charge of it."
"The Master said if you assist him, you may take five for your games."
Alex went still "Really?"
Harbinger nodded.
The disgust vanished from Alex's face. "You and that old fart will have your goods by next week."
"I do not doubt that." Harbinger turned away.
After a few steps, he stopped.
"By the way."
He glanced over his shoulder.
"Those goods are for the grand opening of the Unnamed Night. They have already been broken. Just make sure they remain that way." he continued towards the helicopter.
Alex leaned closer to Chaos as the aircraft prepared to lift off.
"Those lecherous bastards and their sick parties."
Chaos watched the helicopter rise into the night.
He said nothing.
Only when it vanished into the darkness did he look back at the warehouse.
Bodies filled the place.
Men he had killed brutally, efficiently, without hesitation.
Their mission had been simple.
Retrieve a document from a Yakuza clan.
Leave no one alive.
Neither he nor Alex knew what the document contained.
And now, just when Chaos thought he might catch a break, the Master had dumped work meant for a second-rank Hell Guard into his lap.
Chaos shut his eyes for a moment.
"Yebat."
[Fuck.]
"I haven't slept well in weeks." Alex yawned, stretching his arms above his head.
Chaos started walking. Alex fell into step beside him.
"It stinks," Chaos said.
"Everything about us stinks." Alex gave a dry chuckle. "What can we do about it?"
"Isn't it laughable how we balance this?"
Chaos stopped in his tracks.
A car pulled up in front of them. Xavier stepped out and bowed.
Xavier stepped aside.
The shirt landed on the ground.
He stared down at it with open disgust. "Master Alex, please behave. I am not your butler."
"I don't think I bother with balance anymore," Alex said, glancing at Chaos.
He caught the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing a hard, pristine torso beneath the blood and grime.
"Little man. Catch."
He tossed the shirt towards Xavier.
Xavier stepped neatly aside.
The bloodied shirt landed at his feet.
He stared down at it with open disgust. "Master Alex, please behave. I am not your butler
The bloodied shirt landed at his feet.
He looked down at it.
Alex scoffed.
"Look at him. You and your master—birds of a feather."
Xavier ignored him and approached Chaos instead, holding out a handkerchief.
Chaos accepted it and wiped the blood from his hands.
"Do I get one?" Alex asked.
"I only brought one."
Alex clicked his tongue. "Tsk. Of course you did."
He walked past them towards the car, opened the boot and found a change of clothes waiting inside. He pulled on a fresh shirt, slammed the boot shut and climbed into the back.
"You came quickly," Chaos said.
Xavier looked at his Young Master. "I…" He hesitated. "I wasn't far."
"Don't be so morbid, Xavier." Chaos gave his shoulder a light pat as he walked past him. "We're both cockroaches. We won't die so easily."
"That wasn't my concern, Young Master," Xavier quipped.
From inside the car, the window rolled down. "Hey!" Alex shouted. "Are we leaving or what? I have a shipment to inspect, and I'm craving whisky and a good fuck."
Chaos's mouth twitched. "Your priorities are inspiring."
"I know."
Chaos opened the rear door and got in. Xavier settled behind the wheel and started the engine. He glanced into the rear-view mirror.
Chaos was already leaning back, eyes closed. Xavier lingered on him a second too long.
"I'm fine, Xavier," Chaos said without opening them. "Let's go."
Xavier lingered on him for another moment, then faced forward.
The car sped off.