A low whimpering sound reached my ears from a secluded room in the warehouse. I gestured for my subordinate to pull open the door. The sight inside made my pupils shrink. *This* was the shipment! More than twenty women, barely clothed, were huddled together, their eyes wide with terror, fixed on me. Their hair was matted and wild, and their faces and bodies were bruised to varying degrees. The worst off lay motionless on the ground, silenced forever, fresh marks of brutal torture still marring her body. Seeing this, I remembered what Duke had called “handling.” A shiver of ice crawled down my spine, despite the summer air. My name is Asher. My fiancée, Skylar, and I had known each other for over a decade, practically growing up together. My second year of college, I confessed my feelings to her, promising to marry her, to love her, to make her happy for the rest of her life. At twenty-four, after a beautiful engagement ceremony, we officially tied the knot. That night, she gave me everything. I just held her close, listening to her murmur “I love you” over and over again. At twenty-five, she went on a trip with her friends, while I was buried under work, scrambling to get a company plan off the ground. That was the biggest regret of my life. A week after she left, I lost contact. Soon, more than forty-eight hours passed. Frantic, I contacted the local police department. I sent them the little information I had, and they told me to wait for news. Three days later, I couldn’t bear it anymore. I bought a flight to where she’d been traveling. I had barely stepped off the plane when my phone rang. It was the police. My eyes were fixed, unseeing, on the computer screen. In the surveillance footage, she was being dragged into a van by several men. That had been five full days ago. The officer tried to calm me, telling me not to worry, that they were investigating the matter thoroughly and had already identified the van. His words offered a small flicker of relief. A week passed. I received a message from her phone. It was a video. She was naked, violated by a group of men, trapped in a dimly lit room, her body and face a canvas of wounds. A deafening roar filled my head, and my legs gave out, sending me crashing to the floor. My face contorted in agony, but my eyes remained glued to the heartbreaking scene. Passersby recoiled from my distraught state, hurrying away. I burned their faces into my memory, etching them deeper than my own name. I didn’t go back to the police. Nor did I contact anyone else. I spent a fortune, but finally bought the information I craved. I quit my job, leaving my family and friends without a word. Alone, I headed for the borderlands.
This year marks my third year in the borderlands. Looking at the man and woman kneeling on the ground, I knew I was about to get blood on my hands again. I hated the feeling. Duke had ordered me to ‘handle’ this man and woman. Apparently, their only crime was having an affair. I didn’t bother to think twice. The faster it was done, the better. I dealt with the man quickly and cleanly. But the woman stared at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. Perhaps her tears reminded me of Skylar. In the end, I let her go. The woman whispered a trembling “thank you.” My heart remained unmoved. I didn’t look at her, just walked back to my room. I’d caught a chill last night, and my head felt heavy. I lit a cigarette, leaving the lights off, just sitting there, silently gazing out the window. This was a lawless place, home to the world’s most vicious criminals and its poorest people. I lived in this environment, day in and day out. I almost forgot why I joined this outfit in the first place… No! I wouldn’t forget! Never! I narrowed my eyes. The nicotine stimulated my nerves, making me feel much clearer. My phone vibrated on the table. I picked it up and put it to my ear. “Sterling wants to see you.” Just a few words, but I couldn’t help but tremble. I hung up the phone and laughed, a rush of excitement. The head of the syndicate wanted to see me. The ruthless leader who dealt in all kinds of dark trades, whose hands were stained with countless lives! I was escorted into his office, keeping my head down. The man stood there, his back to me. His corpulent frame, surprisingly, still exuded a formidable presence. He was the most vicious gangster in this dark territory. He turned, waving a hand. Immediately, two men rushed forward and attacked me. Heavy blows landed on my gut. Even with years of training, my body still struggled to cope. My abdomen cramped with sharp pains, and I felt something clawing its way up my throat. I couldn’t help but cough twice, blood mixed with bile splattered across the floor. Sterling raised a hand, and the two men stopped beating me. He walked toward me, step by step. “Do you know why I called you here?” His voice was thick, muffled. I said nothing, just glanced at the corner. A woman was kneeling there. It was the same woman I’d let go earlier that evening. I smiled, looking directly at Sterling. I knew he wouldn’t kill me. “You’re smart. Different from the others.” Sterling took a drag from his cigarette, then tossed a towel at my face. “But being too smart isn’t always a good thing.” Sterling turned and waved his hand, signaling that I could leave. Still silent, I gave him a slight bow, then exited the room. Standing in the hallway, I thought for a moment. Maybe I should have just killed him then. I stood there, staring at the gun in my hand, lost in thought.
Three days had passed since I met with Sterling. I hadn’t left my room. I just sat there, waiting quietly. On the fourth day, Duke knocked on my door. He walked in, carrying a bottle of whiskey and some food. Duke was my first boss when I joined the syndicate, essentially a crew chief, as they called it. Over the years, Duke had cleared countless obstacles for Sterling, earning his coveted position as a ‘manager’ within the organization. “Duke.” I stood up to greet him, but he waved me back down. He said nothing, just poured the whiskey. The liquor nearly overflowed the glass, and I couldn’t help but murmur a warning. Duke grinned. *Wham!* A glass landed in front of me. I looked up, meeting Duke’s deep gaze. “This drink is to congratulate you. You’ve got a shot at moving up.” My heart was calm, but I feigned surprise. During our casual chat, I gradually learned the situation. The head of the syndicate’s trade division had run off with a massive shipment of goods, defecting to a rival faction. Sterling’s orders were clear: retrieve the merchandise and eliminate the defector. To be honest, Sterling’s approach surprised me a little. Duke seemed to read my thoughts. He’d always held me in high regard. “It’s a good thing you let that woman go. I should have told you she was Sterling’s ‘sister’ – a plant, a test from Sterling himself. But I couldn’t. It was Sterling’s command.” He seemed annoyed as he spoke. If I hadn’t taken the initiative to spare Sterling’s ‘sister,’ I might be talking to a corpse right now. “You should know what to do,” Duke said meaningfully. “Be swift, finish it quickly. If you can’t bring the goods back, destroy them. Save yourself unnecessary trouble.” I nodded, already strategizing in my mind. After a few more drinks and a final warning, Duke left the room. I lay on the bed, my fingers tracing the cool metal of my gun. I didn’t sleep a wink. I was well-acquainted with this kind of mission, and I started preparations first thing in the morning. Even though Caleb had defected to another organization, the shipment hadn’t been moved yet. And among those who followed him, we had our own informers. I read the message, then closed my phone. Caleb was still scheduled to visit the warehouse where the goods were stored this afternoon. It might be his last visit; he planned to move everything today. I got into the van, taking a deep breath to steady myself. Surprisingly, I felt a little nervous. Fortunately, the operation went smoothly. Caleb was taken out almost the moment we stormed the warehouse. Even if we lost a few of our own in the crossfire, their lives meant nothing to me. After clearing the scene, I took two men with me to find the shipment. Duke had told me to destroy the goods if we couldn’t take them. A low whimpering sound reached my ears from a secluded room in the warehouse. I gestured for my subordinate to pull open the door. The sight inside made my pupils shrink. *This* was the shipment! More than twenty women, barely clothed, were huddled together, their eyes wide with terror, fixed on me. Their hair was matted and wild, and their faces and bodies were bruised to varying degrees. The worst off lay motionless on the ground, silenced forever, fresh marks of brutal torture still marring her body. Seeing this, I remembered what Duke had called “handling.” A shiver of ice crawled down my spine, despite the summer air. I remained impassive, deep in thought. The subordinate next to me looked at the women, then at me. Their eyes silently questioned me. A daring plan quietly formed in my mind. I smiled. Then nodded to them both. The two men with me, their eyes gleaming with greedy, depraved intent, seemed to understand my silent cue and moved toward the women. *Bang! Bang!* Without hesitation, I shot them both from behind. They died never knowing why I’d turned on them. Hearing the shots, the remaining few who could still move immediately ran toward me. I gave them no chance, firing several more shots and taking them down. One was lucky, not hit in a vital spot, his face twisted in pain and terror. I squeezed the trigger a few more times; the magazine was empty. I tossed the gun to the ground and pulled out my usual dagger. I plunged the knife into his heart, my expression blank, my eyes as calm as if I were reading a book. A book filled with sin and gore.
I returned to the syndicate, standing before Sterling. I coolly reported the outcome of the operation. Caleb and all those who defected with him were eliminated. The few men I brought with me had also unfortunately perished. As for the shipment, of course, I told them it had all been destroyed. Sterling listened to my loud report, his expression impassive, only a fleeting frown crossing his face at the news of our lost men before he returned to his usual composure. “Not bad.” Sterling just tossed a badge at me. I’d seen that badge before, pinned to the former manager, Caleb. Its meaning was crystal clear. I silently took the badge, then looked up at Sterling. This was just the beginning… I remained impassive. That night, I returned to my new place. My old, cramped room had been replaced by a sprawling, luxurious apartment. It was the standard perk for a manager. Duke still came to see me, giving me a quick rundown of things. Then he pulled a thick wad of cash from his bag. Seeing my eyes widen at the sight of the money, he clapped me on the shoulder, satisfied. Anyone who chose to live this life, to claw their way through this underworld, was chasing the same few things. And I, a seemingly insatiable money-grabber, was exactly the kind of person they thought they could control. Only, he didn’t know that after he left, I threw the entire wad of cash into the trash without a second glance. I only had one purpose for being here. It was the reason I was willing to abandon a comfortable life and a high-paying job to come to this place. They had no idea I was a patient, calculating madman. I took over Caleb’s work, rarely touching the bloody stuff myself. Sitting in front of the computer, staring at the colossal sums of money flowing in and out, the endless invoices, I finally grasped the sheer scale of the syndicate’s operations. They were involved in almost every dark transaction imaginable. I searched through the computer, scrolling through photo after shocking photo, searching. Finally, I found what I was looking for. A beautiful young woman’s photo. Her smile was gentle, like a delicate narcissus. My right hand trembled slightly as I scrolled through the woman’s information. It listed her merchandise number and details. “She’s alive,” a calm female voice said behind me. My hand instinctively shot to my hip, only to be stopped by a pair of delicate, pale hands.
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