Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: Bread and Candy (6)
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Among the thirty Sicarios, not a single one had chosen candy over bread.
- Memoirs: The Saved (Los Salvados) - ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The haggard-faced man barely managed to grasp the offering handed to him with trembling hands.
"......."
He tore open the packaging with grimy fingertips. Then he crammed the dry bread into his mouth, chewing voraciously.
Suddenly, the man stopped eating and collapsed to the floor like a puppet with cut strings.
"Eup.... Uuugh......"
And like a child, he began to sob uncontrollably.
The hellish times, his broken self, and... only in this moment did he rediscover the preciousness of life. Beneath the warm gaze still looking down on him, he wept for a long while, pouring out everything.
How long did he cry? Through his blurred vision, a hand extended toward him.
The man slowly lifted his tear-streaked face.
There stood the beautiful girl who had just given him hope, as if she were a miracle made flesh.
Only then did he become aware of the others.
Dozens stood silently beside her like shadows, watching. They varied in age and race, but their eyes all bore similar scars and shadows.
At the forefront of the group was a particularly striking man.
His once wild beard and hair neatly trimmed, revealing a rugged, resolute face.
The man recognized him. Until just recently, he had been one of the addicted mercenaries under the organization, flailing in hell like himself—or perhaps even deeper.
But now, he was an entirely different person.
His formerly clouded eyes now shone with calm, unyielding will, directed at the man.
"Stand up, brother."
The man dazedly grasped the offered hand. Lorenzo firmly supported his shoulder and pulled him to his feet.
"Welcome to the saved."
As their gazes met amid the reassuring pat on his arm, they recognized the common thread reflected in each other's eyes.
A bond shared only by comrades who had endured and returned from the same hell.
Gratitude for souls redeemed at the edge of life.
And above all... hatred toward the culprit who had wrought this upon them.
It was the same look in everyone's eyes.
In the silence, the flickering flames of rage ignited within the man as well, boiling over.
It was then, as he unconsciously gritted his teeth.
A clear voice rang out, shattering the tension in the air.
"Everyone, are you ready?"
At those words, dozens including Lorenzo spun around and knelt toward her in unison.
Like knights pledging fealty, without the slightest hesitation.
".....!"
The man was momentarily startled. Everyone but him had bowed in reverence so swiftly.
But soon, he too slowly knelt, following their example, paying his respects.
She was the benefactor who had pulled his soul from this wretched hell. He instinctively knew that if he had to bow to anyone in this world, it could only be her—nay, this saint.
Before the wondrous miracle she had shown and her immense grace, he could do nothing but humbly lower himself.
Amid the group holding their breath, awaiting only her next command.
She spoke in a resolute tone.
"Then, let's go set everything right."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The Sicario's dagger was far too sharp a blade to be wielded merely by a drug lord's hand.
Thus, the moment it slipped from his grasp, the entire organization began to crumble.
Ricardo rampaged madly inside the safehouse. He kicked over expensive furniture and smashed hologram frames on the walls with his fists. His luxurious hideout turned into a chaotic mess of debris in an instant.
"Damn it! Damn it! Why! Why the hell!!!"
He wailed in disbelief. It felt like his nose had been slit right in front of his eyes. No, worse.
His boasted elite guards, mercenaries bound even in soul by biochemical magic... how could they turn on him in an instant? Reports flooded in real-time: in mere hours, every business, hideout, and outpost under his control was being swept clean without resistance.
"How the hell did she do it? That bitch... what did she do!"
Ricardo tore at his hair. Bribe the Sicarios? No way. Money meant nothing to them.
A stronger drug then? Impossible. Heaven Candy was a special drug that didn't share withdrawal symptoms with others.
That's why the addicts could only cling to him, their sole supplier—a perfect leash...
"What kind of miracle did she pull off...!"
He simply couldn't comprehend it.
Helplessly watching his kingdom collapse, he bellowed at his subordinate.
"Hey! Juan! Still no word from cartel HQ?! What about reinforcements! Where the hell are the reinforcements!"
Juan stammered in terror.
"Y-yes... just got word... they said handle the lower district yourselves..."
"You fucking!!! Those bastards!"
Ricardo grabbed a liquor bottle from the table and hurled it against the wall, shattering it. He ranted and raved, spewing every curse imaginable.
Juan flinched at his fury and stealthily backed into the corner.
After venting his rage for a while, Ricardo finally slumped onto the sofa, breathing heavily.
"Haa... ha...."
His eyes now flickered not with anger, but with anxiety and fear.
Ricardo scratched his head roughly, muttering to himself.
'This is wrong... can't go on like this. Gotta get out of here first.'
The moment he realized the situation was hopeless, his mind raced.
'Grab the slush fund and bolt to downtown. This is the suburbs, that's why they're rampaging freely. Once in the city center, it'll be different. Lots of surveillance eyes, and ODPD actually does their job there. Buy time... yeah, reconnect with HQ, find another way... that's the play.'
Ricardo sprang up urgently, decision made. He had to move now.
But right then—
*BOOM!* The reinforced front door of the safehouse crumpled inward with a deafening crash.
"Kuhk!"
Ricardo jolted in shock and flopped back onto the sofa.
A ringing silence followed, deafening his ears. Trembling, he stared at the shattered door.
"J-Juan? Is that... you?"
No reply. He glanced around frantically, then drew his pistol from his waist with shaking hands.
That was when a chilling shadow crept up behind him. Before he could turn, iron fingers clamped his gun wrist. A gruesome force crushed his arm bone.
*CRUNCH!* "Gaaaaahhh!!!"
Ricardo's agonized scream echoed through the safehouse.
Writhing in pain from his shattered bones, he rolled on the floor.
Lorenzo, emerging from the shadow, coldly looked down at the thrashing Ricardo and reached out again.
Then someone beside him chided.
"Easy, Lorenzo. He's all of ours. Don't hog the fun."
Lorenzo reined in his emotions with a curt reply.
"...Sorry, brother."
As Lorenzo stepped back, Ricardo clutched his broken wrist and stumbled backward.
Pain, rage, and disbelief twisted his face as he pointed accusingly and screamed.
"You scum!!! Betraying me?! Forgot who I am?!"
His insults ignited sparks in the eyes of the surrounding former Sicarios.
"You son of a bitch!"
With that shout, pent-up fury and hatred erupted.
They swarmed Ricardo, unleashing merciless blows.
Blood, flesh, and broken teeth splattered across the floor one by one.
"Ugh, aaaagh!! Stop!! Khek!!"
Ricardo's screams devolved into pathetic groans. His fine clothes soiled with dirt and blood, his body a mangled wreck.
Then footsteps approached, and the brutal beating halted abruptly. In the suffocating silence, Ricardo strained to lift his swollen, barely functional eyes.
There stood the beautiful girl he had once mocked as a naive miss.
"You.... you...!"
Blood trickled from his lips as he mumbled. He still couldn't grasp the situation.
"How.... how did you turn my guards...! Bribe them? Or... some other drug? Tell me!"
He was rambling incoherently. Then Lorenzo kicked his side viciously once more.
"Mind your manners, trash. Don't flap your mouth with unasked words before her."
"Kuhk...."
Now it felt like no ribs remained unbroken.
Overwhelmed by the violence, Ricardo could only prostrate himself fully. In that instant, his instincts whispered: this was all her doing. She orchestrated everything.
From alley rat to drug boss, he had always bowed to the strong to survive. Thinking himself strong now, he realized he was still weak... his primal survival instinct stirred.
Forgetting his recent rage and humiliation, Ricardo groveled at her feet.
"I-I'm sorry! I get it now!"
Tears streamed as he begged.
"Th-that question at the club... right? You gave me a chance to repent then? Yes? I was too foolish to see! You wanted remorse and reflection!"
He slammed his forehead on the floor, desperately shouting.
"Please.... just one more chance! I'll do anything you say! Please...!"
She looked down at Ricardo and let out a small sigh.
"Strictly speaking... I'm not even a direct victim, so I'm not sure I have the right to punish your sins on everyone's behalf."
Hope flashed across Ricardo's face. His eyes gleamed with a sliver of possibility.
But the story wasn't over.
She slowly turned to the people encircling the room.
"However... they certainly do."
She added coldly at last.
"Handle it."
She turned and walked toward the safehouse exit. Esty followed silently behind.
As she departed, dozens of former Sicarios, including Lorenzo, bowed their heads in farewell.
*Creak.... Slam!* A heavy silence blanketed the room.
"......."
Then it shattered with low, menacing growls—like starved beasts eyeing prey.
The bloodlust and rage, once restrained before their benefactor, now unleashed without bounds.
Their hatred-filled eyes gleamed.
"We won't kill you right away. From now on, you'll live... very long... and very painfully."
Lorenzo's parting words made Ricardo's pants grow wet.