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“Yes,” smiled she, “-he has a lot of hidden skills. Can I assume we have the job?”

“Consider yourself lucky,” said she, “-being endorsed by a music company is a dream for many musicians. The boy there has a chance at doing just that. I won’t promise much. The modeling contract is yours.”

“Thank you for the opportunity.”

“Yes, yes,” she brutely leaped over the tiles, “-follow me,” each stride was long and full of effort. Her forehead glistened from sweat – the light caught and hung onto the rectangular temple.

‘Nearly mistook her for a man,’ sighed he, ‘-won’t hurt if I play a little more.’ Strumming, embellishing a few chords here and there. In a way, grabbing the instrument felt right. Compared to the time where he had to guard Aceline, there, playing the instrument felt more of a curse.

“Igna Haggard.”

.....

“Yes,” the strings muted, “-something the matter?”

“Please follow me,” said the same short man of before. Handing over the stringed ax, they strolled down a corridor partitioned by heavy-black clothes. Eavesdropping onto the ‘attempted wall,’ revealed a dirtied truth.

“Are you refusing?” mumbled a commanding tone.

“Yes, if it means my dignity remains in place, I’ll refuse more than once!”

“Fine,” halted the man, “-I’ll see to it the dream of becoming a starlet ends here. Climbing to the top is hard, and even harder for beautiful ladies.”

‘Sexist bastard,’ thought Igna, “-éclair, I want an image and details on who that man is.”

“On it.”

A sour taste forced him into increasing the pace.

“Casting couch,” said éclair, “-there are multiple reported cases of director sleeping with starlets for a chance at fame. Most of them grudgingly accept. Police here aren’t reliable; most are corrupt and affiliated to the mob.”

“Well, it’s a trying city for sure. What of the man?”

“Laven Enda. A respected director specializing in romantic flicks.”

“I’ll remember the name.” Crossed onto the upper half, three figures stood before a white room covered by the same black partitions. ‘Studio,’ wrote on a sloppily attached sign.

“Stay here,” and so the short man walked towards a group of well-dressed men.

“Igna,” whispered Alicia, “-you’ve done it.”

“Done what?”

“Don’t you realize the opportunity given? This could boost you to the top instantly. I can’t believe our luck.”

“I’m not surprised,” he smiled and patted her shoulder, “-you foresaw the future.”

“No need to bring it here,” she shrugged off the hand, “-there’s a decision to make here. Chef or Musician. The ball is in your court.”

‘Chef or musician,’ he wondered as the group separated, ‘-I don’t care about money. Anywhere I go there will be judgment, people will compare me to the best. What do I want?’ the eyes shut, ‘-cooking?’ the mere thought shook the heart, ‘-I feel nauseated. I can’t do it,’ he breathed. “-A new life it is,” said he.

“Hey,” smiled she, “-don’t get so worked up. Who said you can’t do both. Lord Amsey is a chef and director of a conglomerate, should be easy to manage as long as you don’t care about making money.”

“Ha-ha,” he frowned.

“Lady Alicia.” A chubby man approached with sweat down the forehead and neck, “-it’s good to see you’ve gotten employed, considering the last incident.”

“Mr. Go,” said she, “-didn’t expect the head of Unda’s Inc to be here.”

“Oh come on,” said he, “-why take such an angry tone.”

“...” the fierceness froze as if bound by a secret.

“Well,” he glossed over the silence, “-I feel Turi’s disappearance is all too sudden. The police ruled it an accident. I wonder if there’s perhaps more to the story.”

“Excuse me,” interjected Igna, “-Is there perhaps something you need?”

“No, not really,” he smirked, “-I’ll be off. See you later, little whor-”

“Don’t you dare,” side-glanced Igna.

“Huh?” he stopped, “-what was that?”

“Igna, don’t,” gritted Alicia.

“I said, don’t you dare,” said he with chest, “-one who doesn’t have the reason to respect another human doesn’t have the right to be respected.”

“Oh, my boy,” the tone came across as patronizing, “-being new and full of justice in this city is a mistake,” the voice altered to baby talk at one point. “Alicia,” he pushed the boy aside, “-where did you pick up this fool?” he leaned to sniff her neck, “-should I remind you of our time together?”

“I told you to stop,” glared Igna grasping Go’s meaty shoulder, “-get off her,” an effortless pull had the man shot back a few meters.

“Boy,” dusting off the suit, “-are you sure you want to start a fight?” A crowd gathered to watch the argument, Alicia’s silence damned her, the guilt of her past forced her to stand down.

“Not really,” said he, “-if words don’t work, then I don’t mind exchanging blows.”

“Igna,” she forced a cry, “-for my sake, don’t. They’ll kill you.”

“Oooh, it’s too late to backpedal,” he laughed, “-don’t forget, little Alicia, I own you. I will take what is mine, and your part of the deal. Sadly,” *clap,* five heavily built men emerged out the shadows, “-I’ll take this boy’s life as compensation for the disrespect.”

“Don’t,” she broke free and ran, “-I beg, don’t kil-,”

“Stop right there,” he grabbed her arms, “-what’s my name?”

“Igna, stop,” she stared with teary eyes, “-Mr. Go is part of the familia, he’s a mobster!”

“I ask this one more time, what’s my name?”

“Igna, let me GO!”

“Alicia, answer me, what’s my name?”

“Igna Haggard,” sniffles marred her words.

“Good,” a tug pulled her close, “-remember it.”

“BOYS, FIRE!”

“Calculating bullet trajectory. Igna, time to fight, they’ve initiated the first contact, I have sufficient proof to have the case ruled as self-defense.”

“Alright,” he dove towards a cabinet. Screams and cries permeated the warehouse, the gunfire brought panic. The guards kept on firing, Alicia’s face froze, the bystanders made for the doors.

“Why would you do that...”

“Oh shut up,” said he, “-this isn’t the time,” a bullet grazed his shoulder to have blood splatter onto her face.

‘Warm,’ she touched to see red. The hands trembled, “-Igna... a-a-are you ok?” wide-eyed at the scene before her contoured the face in a mix of fear and sorrow.

“I’m fine,” then and there, the small man cut across from the exit and slid to their side. “-Are you guys ok?” asked he in a familiar accent. “-You’ll be fine,” said he, “-some of my buddies are coming to handle that idiot.”

“Are you friends with the Unda Familia?”

“Oh hell no. Just a pig-faced bastard with guns for fire. The underworld hates his ass.”

“Alright, listen. Take my manager to somewhere safe. I have a few things to discuss with Mr. Go.”

“You’re a kid, chill and leave this to the professionals.”

“Mister,” the aura changed, “-I’m no kid,” a malignant aura rose out from the depths of the abyss, “-she’s unconscious, take her to safety.”

“Alright,” despite the size, he carried her outside without much trouble, ‘-don’t die on me kid.’

“Two injured behind five more hiding upstairs. Five guards in total and Mr. Go.”

“éclair, change the interface for battle.”

“Alright,” the calm hue morphed into a slightly red-color. The surrounding grew a bit slow.

“Stop hiding.”

“I’m here already,” said he standing amidst the five-guards. Took them a few seconds to realize, the first who aimed the weapon had it broken with a single tap. Three others charged for close-combat. A duck and a spin knocked them off their feet, he dashed on behind the remainder and snapped their heads, “-so,” a blink later, “-what were you saying earlier?” a hard and cold revolver pressed against the back of his head, “-anything to add now?”

“Kid, do you know who I am?” the attitude remained calm and in control.

“Over here boys,” waved the short man. Men dressed in white shirts and black pants sprinted, “-I haven’t heard anything in a while.” They ran inside to examine.

“Where’s Igna?” the heated pricks of the sun brought the mind to consciousness, “-where’s Igna?” she mumbled surrounded by scared models and attendants.

“Don’t know,” said a boy around her age, “-I don’t know... he-he’s not come out and neither has the representative from Alice...”

Dimness of the interior, broken glasses, bullet holes, and yelping victims bleeding to their demise over yonder. Footsteps ran in to see the guard’s unconscious, “-boy, do you know who I am?” repeated he, “-I swear, once this is over, I’ll take Alicia back and defile her as I did when she was young. Someone like her doesn’t have the right to become an actress, she’s the scum of the planet, a stain on the world, a waste of breath!

“Defiled her huh?” *BANG, BANG,* two shots in each thigh brought him to the floor. “éclair, bring a car. I don’t care where you get it from, bring one right now!”

“Got it.”

“Hey, hey,” said the short man, “-did you do all this?”

.....

“Mister,” he paused, “-I need a favor.”

“What is it?”

“Where’s the Unda Familia held up?” he smiled.

“Why?”

“I’m going to wipe them out.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” he gritted, “-this is enough for today.”

“Don’t misunderstand me,” he walked whilst spinning the gun around the index, “-I’m doing this for myself,” one of the guards moved, *BANG!* no hesitation, “-will you get in my way too?”

“Ay, Jim,” said one of the backups, “-let the boy live a little.”

“Fine, go die, the address is Bento street five blocks from here.”

“Got it.”

A car screeched to a stop outside, “-boy, what’s your name.”

“Igna Haggard,” said he, “-remember it.” Go’s groaning body dragged across by the collar leaving a large bloodstain. “Call an ambulance, I’ve already stopped the bleeding for the representative.”

“Jim,” said one of the men, “-what do we do about this mess?”

“Clean it up,” replied he, “-I have a feeling we’ll see something truly horrifying later in the week.”

A heavy jeep smashed into a private property hidden in the midst of town square. Silence and lack of people showed prestige. *Bang, bang,* two guards were shot before making a move. “Have the whole area blacked out,” ordered he.

“Igna,” said éclair, “-isn’t this going a bit too far?”

“No,” he laughed and ripped across the well-lawned grass to break into the front door. The mansion rattled. Servants rushed to the noise. A kick sent the windshield crashing against the grand marble staircase, “-who are you?” asked a frightened servant.

“Special delivery,” said he throwing Mr. Go across, “-bring me the lady and daughter of the house. I have a few things to discuss.”

“...” three of them remained silent and unmoving.

“Did you not hear me?” glared Igna. The pristine white and golden tiled dirtied by blood and dust.

“No-”

*Blood-Arts: Crimson Threads,* a faint line drew across the servant’s head. Worried glances stared to only be sent into fight or flight. He who refused had the head cleanly cut, *Blood-Arts: Bloody Mary,* the blood hovered over to form a crystal halo. “Should I repeat myself now?”

Lady and daughter were brought to the hall, “-FATHER!” cried she to his side.

“What do you want?” screamed the mother.

“Your lives,” he gently dropped off the jeep, “-you see,” he smiled, “-Mr. Go is nothing but a menace.”

“What gives you the right to say so!” she refuted.

“I’ve got the evidence against Mr. Go,” a heartbreaking video of him abusing and torturing girls of all ages played to the family. They watched with sunken faces, he who laid in his blood had everything crumble around.

“How old are you, girl,” voiced Igna.

“15,” she fired back in fear and shame.

“What would you do if someone else did that do you? Would you want revenge, would you want to die or want to return the favor.”

“Please,” begged the mother who held his feet,”-don’t show this to the world. I don’t care what happens to me, take out the revenge on me, leave my daughter and husband alone.”

“Take out the revenge on you?” he grabbed her neck and lifted without a second’s thought, “-what if I did that to you?” he ripped the clothes and send her knocking against the wall. “What would you do if I defiled that girl here in front of you?” he marched to pinch her chin, “-Mr. Go, Mrs. Go,” a freezing aura suffocated the room, “-give me an answer.”