Inside the base’s main office, a bald man covered in tattoos sat on a long couch with a telephone resting on the center table. He held the receiver to his ear, his expression growing uglier by the second.

"Hah."

He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and rubbed a hand over his tattooed scalp.

"So, five of our distribution centers were attacked?"

A shallow laugh escaped him as he set the receiver down.

When he looked up, the other man who managed the base with him was already watching him.

"Did you hear that?" he said, sounding almost amused. "The boss isn’t in a good mood. Five—five distribution centers burned to the ground. And all he told us was to stay alert."

The man sitting across from him smirked as he casually puffed on his cigar.

"What the hell is wrong with those idiots?" he laughed. "A bunch of incompetent motherfuckers getting themselves killed."

"The headquarters wants us to tighten security," the bald man replied. "They think this place could be the next target if this is a deliberate declaration of war against the Di Carpios."

The other man laughed even harder.

"Scott’s getting old." He shook his head. "The boss should replace him. How can he let this happen?"

"What? You want his position and go back to headquarters?"

"Hah." The man scoffed. "Go back there and kiss Scott’s ass? Or that little bitch’s boots? I’m good."

He leaned back comfortably. "I like it here."

The bald man nodded before casually propping his feet onto the table, chewing on something.

"Speaking of that little bitch..." the other man said. "Is she still alive? Or did Scott finally kill her?"

"If Scott was the one handling it, she’s probably dead." The bald man shrugged. "Though I doubt. Somehow, he sees that little bitch as some sort of protege or something."

"A shame if she’s dead." The man shrugged. "I should’ve found her first. Could’ve had a taste before she died."

The bald man chuckled.

"The boss wants her dead. Sleeping with the boss’s daughter won’t earn you anything." He waved a hand dismissively. "Anyway, raise security. Headquarters already warned us."

"You actually think they’ll come here?" the other man snorted. "Even if they do, we’ll deal with them."

He grinned viciously. "We’ll chop off their heads and have the boys play soccer with them—"

Before he finished, a piercing burst of static suddenly screamed through every speaker in the base.

Both men winced and instinctively covered their ears.

"The fuck—" The second man glared at the speaker mounted in the corner of the office. "I told those idiots to fix the damn microphone in the control room."

Then...

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Soft tapping echoed through the speakers, as though someone were lightly testing the microphone.

The two men frowned.

"Ahem... ahem..." An unfamiliar woman’s voice came through. "...Motherfuckers."

Both men instantly stiffened.

"Who the fuck is that?" the second man blurted out.

"Check the control room," the bald man ordered as he hurriedly grabbed the telephone again. "I’m notifying headquarters. Looks like we’ve got intruders."

The other man scoffed while grabbing his rifle.

"What for? I’ll deal with them myself." He smirked. "I’ll be the one kicking their heads around."

The bald man merely glanced at him before the call connected.

"Scott," he said quickly. "I think we’ve got intruders inside the base."

As he reported the situation, the woman’s voice continued echoing through the speakers.

"...Ugh... this is so annoying." She sighed dramatically. "Seriously, guys. I told you to hold yourselves back as much as possible. I didn’t say you weren’t allowed to make your own decisions if necessary."

She paused briefly.

"I know this is our first beautiful collaboration together... but why are you suddenly growing wings? What? You want to go to heaven and become angels?"

The bald man’s face twitched. "What the fuck is she talking about?"

He clicked his tongue.

"Anyway, we’ll handle it. Just letting the boss know what’s happening. We’ll send him their heads afterward."

Scott remained silent for a moment. Then a faint smile appeared on his face.

"I see." He nodded slightly. "Good luck."

The bald man frowned.

"Scott... what the fuck is wrong with you?" His eyes narrowed. "Are you laughing?"

"No." Scott’s answer was calm. "I’m simply saying you’ve already made two mistakes."

The man frowned even harder.

"The first..." Scott continued. "...was letting that person take over your control room."

His voice remained steady. "That only means everyone guarding it is already dead."

The bald man’s expression stiffened. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"And the second..." Scott moved the phone closer to his mouth. "...was calling me."

He lowered his voice to almost a whisper.

"If I were you... I’d shoot myself before she gets her hands on me."

*****

Back in the square, every prisoner and guard looked around in confusion as the woman’s voice echoed throughout the base.

Instead of threats or demands, all they heard was an irritated woman ranting.

"What the fuck...?" Red muttered.

Gin’s face immediately soured.

He recognized Ashley’s voice the instant it came through the speakers.

How could he not?

That voice had haunted enough of their sleepless nights.

Charm looked around in confusion. Even the two prisoners beside Red stared upward.

"What is going on?" Charm muttered.

Old Fool, meanwhile, felt his aging heart pound violently inside his chest.

The woman sounded less like an invader... and more like someone scolding her own subordinates.

But that alone was enough to make the alarm bells in his head ring.

The prisoners exchanged confused looks.

Then one of the guards roared.

"Who the fuck is that?!" His furious voice echoed across the square. "How the hell did that bitch get into the comms?!"

The broadcast suddenly went quiet. When Ashley spoke again, her voice had become much calmer.

"All I’m saying is... I understand you want everything to go according to plan." She rested her bloodstained hands on the control console.

Her eyes remained fixed on one of the surveillance monitors.

Specifically, on Red.

He was still lying on the ground with a rifle aimed at his head.

"But whether everything goes according to plan or not... what matters is achieving the objective." A small smile appeared on her lips.

"Don’t just lie there getting beaten by those motherfuckers." Her smile widened. "Show them... why you’re my right hand, Red."

Red’s lips slowly curled upward before a chuckle escaped him.

Everyone else frowned. Then they all turned toward him.

From the prisoners’ perspective, countless questions raced through their minds.

The guards, however, had a very different feeling.

Something about this didn’t sit right with them.

"Hey, Gin!" Red shouted.

The guards instinctively looked back at him.

"You heard Madam." His grin widened. "Looks like I won’t need to write that apology letter after all."

"What the fuck are you talking ab—"

The guard aiming the rifle at Red never finished, as Red suddenly drove his heel into the man’s shin.

The guard dropped to one knee.

In the same motion, Red seized the rifle while the man still held onto it and immediately opened fire at the nearest guards.

At the exact same moment, Gin jumped forward. He sprinted across the square before sliding through the dirt, a cloud of dust trailing behind him.

He crashed into another guard, yanking the rifle still slung across the man’s shoulder.

Twisting the sling around the guard’s body, Gin used him as a living shield while wrenching control of the weapon.

Without hesitation, he opened fire.

Several guards fell before they even realized what was happening.

Gin then drove a kick into the guard’s back, ripping the rifle free. Before the man could recover, Gin leveled the muzzle at his face.

The man froze as he stared at the meek recruit. He raised his hand, wide-eyed.

"Wait —"

BANG!