[Men’s Square]

BANG!

After Gin fired the final shot, taking down the last guard, a pin-drop silence settled over the square.

The prisoners stared at Gin. Then at Red.

Then at the whimpering captain, who was desperately trying to crawl away after being shot in the side.

Red let out a wet cough before spitting blood onto the ground. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he glanced at the captain he had disarmed and shot.

He hadn’t missed.

He had simply left the man alive for a reason.

"Haha..." Red let out a shallow laugh as he rested his hands on his hips, standing as though the beating he had taken earlier meant nothing.

"Gin," he called.

Gin turned toward him. "What?"

"You heard her too, right? Did she really just call me her right hand?"

A slow grin spread across Gin’s face. "I heard it too."

"Haha!" Red burst into laughter. "Ahh... that Khan bastard should’ve heard that."

It was the first time Ashley had ever openly acknowledged who her right and left hands were.

She had always trusted them and treated them as important, but she had never officially given them those titles, as though she assumed they already knew where they stood.

Gin scrunched up his nose as he watched Red’s mood soar.

"I think Khan already figured it out," he mumbled, deciding not to ruin Red’s excitement.

His attention shifted back to the prisoners.

Everyone was staring at them with wide eyes. Some looked at the guards lying in pools of blood, almost numb to the gruesome sight.

Others simply stared back and forth between Red and Gin, unable to process what they had just witnessed.

"What... did you..." one prisoner stammered. "What is going on?"

"You just..." another began before his words caught in his throat. His eyes darted between the two men and the bodies scattered across the square.

Charm frowned. "You..."

Old Fool rubbed his good eye as though trying to convince himself he hadn’t imagined everything.

Shock was written across every face. But beneath that, there was confusion.

Just moments ago, they had watched Red endure a brutal beating. Charm and Old Fool had even begged the guards to spare him.

Then came that strange announcement over the speakers.

And within moments, Red and Gin had taken down every guard in the square.

Within minutes... no, seconds.

No one could even tell.

Everything happened so fast their eyes could barely catch up. All they had seen were bodies collapsing one after another.

Everyone held their breath.

"Who..." Old Fool finally whispered. "Who are you?"

Somewhere deep inside him, a tiny spark of hope flickered to life.

Even though darkness had already fallen over the camp.

Even though one of his eyes no longer worked.

He had still witnessed something impossible.

Two men standing against armed guards... and won.

Charm remained silent as Red’s earlier words echoed through his mind.

"I came here on my own."

"This place is going down."

"If you get the chance... will you kill them? And if an opportunity comes, will you leave? Will you drag everyone else out with you?"

"Someone else is already inside this place, and that person won’t stop until every inch of this place has been reduced to ashes."

Charm swallowed hard.

For the first time, he believed every single word.

After all, what other explanation was there?

Red and Gin had just gunned down six armed guards.

Throwing a single punch at a guard usually meant death. They had killed six!

Amid his thoughts, Red met Charm’s gaze.

The excitement from Ashley calling him her right hand still lingered in his heart. But now, he had to prove he deserved that title.

"Can’t let that Khan bastard steal all the spotlight," he muttered.

Red raised a finger.

Everyone instinctively followed the gesture before looking back at him.

"The person you heard over the speakers..." Red began, "is our boss. And she’s terrifyingly capable."

That was a bluff.

Red actually had no idea just how strong Ashley really was.

He had barely seen her fight.

He didn’t even know how she had managed to seize control of the communications room.

But he wasn’t worried.

Because Tank had already answered that question for him the night before.

Red had asked him,

"Should I stop arguing with her and just go along with whatever she says next time? I’m not saying she can’t fight... but she worries me when she has to go on her own or with others. Not that I’m saying you can’t protect her. It just feels like... eels like she’s spiraling."

Tank had looked at him without the slightest hesitation.

"I don’t need to protect her. She can protect herself. You’ll understand after tomorrow’s mission."

It wasn’t much. But coming from Tank, that was as good as glowing praise.

So Red chose not to dwell on it.

His job was simple.

Trust her.

He blinked, bringing himself back to the present.

"We’re here on a mission," Red continued, his voice echoing across the square. "And that mission is to burn every inch of this place to the ground."

He paused.

"I’m not asking any of you to join us. I’m not asking you to fight. I’m not asking you to reclaim the pride these bastards stole from you." His expression hardened. "Because if I ask that... there’ll be casualties."

"You might die." He shook his head. "No. You will die."

Silence fell once more.

"The person I’m answering to asked me to pass along a message." Red took a slow breath. "She said... if you want to live, run. Run as fast as you can. And don’t ever look back."

He paused again as he relayed the message with more appreciation.

"Don’t go to the police. They’re already on the Di Carpios’ payroll. Just run. Outside this base, our people are waiting with a bus. They’ll take you somewhere safe."

Red didn’t particularly like delivering that message.

Part of him still wanted these men to stand up and fight.

But after seeing what they had endured, he couldn’t ask that of them anymore.

His team could destroy this place on their own.

The prisoners deserved a chance to live.

Silence lingered over the square.

Then Charm stepped forward.

"We’re going to die trying to escape," he said, his voice steady with resolve. "Or we’ll die staying in this place."

He slowly clenched his fists.

"Either way, we’ll die. So we might as well die fighting."