KINGPIN

"Let's play a game, shall we?"

Gina's voice resounded, smooth as silk yet laced with quiet cruelty, slithered through the vast basement like an echo of death itself. The words didn't need to be loud; they carried the weight of something far more terrifying.. certainty.

The moment she spoke, a deathly stillness followed, thick and absolute.

Gina took a slow step forward, her black furry coat shifting slightly as she moved. Her crimson eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, flicked toward a chair not too far away. Without a hint of urgency, she strolled toward it, the quiet click of her boots against the cracked floor echoing through the room.

When she reached it, she sat.

Not hurriedly. Not tensely. But comfortably.

She crossed one leg over the other, her movements fluid, controlled. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the pistol into the air, letting it spin, glinting under the pale basement lights before catching it effortlessly. The motion was almost lazy, like she was toying with an object of no consequence.

"Firstly," she began, rolling the word off her tongue as if savoring it.

She leaned forward slightly, her fingers curling around the pistol's grip.

"I want the three of you to choose who'll die first."

A faint click echoed as she cracked the pistol open, the internal mechanisms shifting with a quiet mechanical hum. But something else happened. A glow. A soft, unsettling light pulsed from within the chamber, not like any normal weapon.. no, this was something different. The glow flickered, unstable, as if the very air around it trembled at its presence.

A weapon that shouldn't exist.

Dun's fingers twitched slightly, his jaw tightening. Tarl and Tingnim stood frozen, their breaths held. None of them spoke. None of them moved.

Gina waited, her expression unreadable.

Then, she sighed, the soft exhale carrying an almost disappointed amusement.

"Come on now, don't let me choose myself."

A small smile curled her lips, but her crimson gaze remained sharp, unmoving. It was a smile that carried no warmth, no real amusement, only a predator's patience.

But before another word could be spoken..

A sound.

A quiet, ominous beep.

Gina glanced down at her wrist.

A watch. Sleek, black, and minimalist, yet the sound it emitted felt as if it carried the weight of something inevitable.

An alarm.

It wasn't loud, yet it rang through the silence like a death knell.

Gina's expression didn't change. She didn't react with surprise or urgency. Instead, she moved with the same calm, the same intentional ease as she rose to her feet.

Bang.

A burst of chaotic energy erupted from the pistol, a searing bolt of destruction that carved through the air. The glow intensified for a fraction of a second before it struck.

Tarl's head.

The force of the impact was instantaneous. His skull split open like a fragile shell, blood and matter splattering the cold concrete walls. His body twitched once, then collapsed like a puppet with severed strings, his now-lifeless eyes still wide in shock.

Dun barely had time to process it.

Crack.

The sound of the pistol's mechanism resetting.

Gina twisted her wrist slightly, redirecting the barrel toward Tingnim.

The young man, who had stood frozen moments ago, finally seemed to register his reality. His lips parted, but no words came. His breath hitched, his fingers twitched, his body wanted to run, but he couldn't move and he knew.. it was far too late.

Bang.

Another shot.

The second burst of energy lanced through the air, its force undeniable.

Tingnim's head snapped backward as the shot tore through him, his body jerking before falling limp, crumpling onto the floor in an unceremonious heap. Blood pooled beneath him, soaking into the cracked concrete.

The only one left standing..

Dun.

The room, once filled with quiet dread, now held only death.

Gina turned the pistol in her grip, balancing it casually in her palm. Then, without a glance, she flicked it through the air.

GJ, who had stood silently near the ruined doorway, caught it with practiced ease. His expression never changed as he smoothly tucked the weapon away inside his suit coat.

Then, as if moving through a rehearsed sequence, he reached inside his suit and withdrew something new.

A cutlass.

Small. Elegant. Deadly.

He stepped forward, bowing his head slightly as he extended the weapon to Gina. She took it without hesitation, her fingers wrapping around the hilt with an almost thoughtful grip.

She turned back to Dun.

"There is a saying..." she mused, twisting the cutlass in her grip, letting the dim light catch the gleaming edge.

Her voice was soft. Almost distracted. As if she were recalling something distant, something trivial.

Then, she tilted her head slightly, her red eyes locked onto Dun's unmoving form.

"What was it again?" she muttered, tapping the flat of the blade against her palm.

She let the silence stretch, drawing out the tension, watching as Dun's body, still frozen under whatever force bound him.. quivered ever so slightly. His breath had changed. Short. Shaky. The only thing that told her he was still clinging to life.

Then, as if remembering, she smiled.

"Ah. Yes. I remember now."

She stepped forward, slow, unhurried.

"There is a saying," she continued, her tone light, casual. "Vagans, most especially Alpha Vagans are impossible to kill."

Her words were steady, almost instructional.

"Most say they can't die. That Alpha Vagans are immortal, incapable of being killed by any means."

She stopped in front of him, close enough that she could hear the faint hitch in his breath.

She leaned in.

Just slightly.

Close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin, close enough that she could hear the way his breathing had turned ragged, shallow.

"But..."

She let the word hang, drawing it out like a blade being unsheathed.

"I'm about to prove that sentence wrong."

A pause.

Then, she straightened, her grip tightening ever so slightly on the cutlass.

"Alpha Vagans are immortal, yes."

She lifted the blade... slowly, intentionally.

"But when I'm around..."

The silence stretched.

Dun's breath was a stutter now, his eyes locked onto the weapon. His fingers twitched at his sides, but he still couldn't move.

Gina tilted her head, her red eyes gleaming.

"They are nothing but mere mortals."

Slash.

The cutlass carved through Dun's right leg as if slicing through foam.

His body jerked violently..

But before a scream could escape his lips..

There was already a thin, clean slit across his throat.

His voice never came.

And Gina..

She just kept swinging.

***

Moments, or minutes later.. Outside, the night was painted in absolute black. A sky void of stars, a sky without light. The towering warehouse stood, unsettling silent, its interiors now a graveyard of fallen men. Smoke curled from the cracks of shattered windows, and the metallic scent of fresh blood still clung to the air. Beyond the warehouse walls, the vast expanse of Dun's estate stretched into the darkness.. tall, iron-wrought fences encased the property, separating it from the city beyond. A few streetlights flickered weakly in the distance, struggling against the overwhelming darkness.

Outside, standing just beyond the warehouse doors, were two figures.

Gina.

GJ.

The cold night breeze brushed against Gina's black furry coat, ruffling its soft fibers as she stood still, staring at the structure before her. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly, reflecting the dim city lights, unreadable in expression. A smile played on her lips.. small, amused, almost lazy. The silence between them was thick, but not uncomfortable. The kind of silence that came after a masterpiece had been completed.

Beside her, GJ adjusted the cuffs of his black suit, the fabric stiff from lingering tension. He cast a glance at the warehouse, then turned back to Gina, his voice low yet steady.

"Boss," he said, his tone laced with expectation. "What should I do next?"

Gina didn't respond immediately. Instead, she shifted her gaze, slowly scanning Dun's estate. The grand mansion loomed further down the property, its windows dark and empty, hollow, just like the lives that once occupied it. The gardens, meticulously maintained before, now held the weight of death. No footsteps disturbed the walkways. No voices filled the air. The estate had become a burial ground.

Gina let out a small chuckle, her voice almost melodic, yet drenched in something sinister. "We don't have anything to do here anymore," she mused, tilting her head slightly, her fingers idly brushing against the edge of her coat. "Everyone here is dead."

Her words lingered, floating into the cold air like a death knell.

A distant siren howled through the city, faint but drawing closer. Gina's gaze flickered in amusement, her lips curling into something almost playful.

"The heroes will be here soon," she continued, her voice carrying a hint of mockery. "And the villains…" She scoffed, shaking her head slightly. "They'll find out who did it soon enough." She exhaled, a soft breath between her lips before she added, "Then I'll be an enemy to both sides."

She turned to GJ, her expression unreadable, but her eyes... those burning red eyes, told a different story.

"Isn't it wonderful?"

GJ didn't hesitate. He nodded, his face void of doubt. "Yes, Boss."

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the wind whispering through the iron fences, the distant city humming with life beyond this graveyard of an estate.

Gina turned back to the warehouse one last time. Her fingers flexed at her side before she finally lifted her head to the sky. The black sky. A void above, stretching endlessly.

Her voice was quiet, almost as if she were speaking only to herself.

"Bad things happen when the sky turns black..." She muttered, her red eyes reflecting the abyss above. "And in this black sky…" She paused, a slow smile tugging at her lips.

"My debut of opposition shall be told."

With that, she stepped forward, her figure blending into the darkness. GJ followed without a word. And as they walked, their forms slowly faded, dissolving into the night like ghosts.

This night would not be forgotten.

Here, in the depths of silence, where blood soaked the floors and death had whispered its final words....

The Coronation Of A King Was Made!