The City near the sea was an old city, an ancient capital, surrounded by tall, weathered city walls, slick with moss, exuding the wear of ages.
The town, aged with time, was filled with narrow streets and dark alleys. At night, the dim glow of streetlights cast faint shadows, and the air hung heavy with the absence of life, the streets eerily silent and desolate.
On either side, the buildings loomed in long, towering blocks, their dark silhouettes resembling rows of massive sentinels. In the gloom, they stood as silent guardians, their presence heavy and suffocating, like a silent force pressing in from all sides.
When Merrick stepped out of the car, a gust of wind blew, lifting the hem of his open coat. The wind was chilly, wicked, making him shiver.
The entire street was littered with white candles, which flames fluttered in the wind, white smog swirling like countless clawing phantoms.
The entire road echoed with the sound of a funeral dirge. He didn't know who had died, but somehow, the whole street was filled with an atmosphere of sorrow.
How ominous.
Merrick pulled a candy from his pocket, his fingers long and slender, joints prominent. The colorful wrapper crinkled in his palm, strikingly beautiful.
The fruity sweetness filled his mouth, slightly lifting his dark mood.
Several more cars arrived behind him, and people jumped out, breaking the overly quiet atmosphere of the alley.
"Boss, everyone's here."
"Mm—" With the candy in his mouth, Merrick's response was a bit muffled.
He wore a light-colored shirt today, unbuttoned at the collar, paired with black trousers, his legs straight. Over it, he casually draped a black trench coat, leaving the belt untied, the fabric billowing in the wind. In the dark of night, his eyes appeared even more bright and captivating.
A faint Ding-Ling sound of bells came from the alley, clinking from sparse to dense, and then the smogs of white candles began to rise to the sky, turning the entire sky into an eerie shade of white.
"Damn it, who the hell died?" One of his subordinates couldn't help but curse, but just then, an unusual sound of wind followed by a bullet pierced his temple. Blood sprayed immediately, and he collapsed to the ground in response.
The sudden change startled everyone, and they immediately drew their guns. Several of Merrick's loyal subordinates quickly surrounded him to protect him.
Only Merrick stood upright. He looked up and saw a large number of white candles on the roof, indicating that a funeral ceremony was taking place above.
After surveying the area, he noticed at least three sniper positions.
This meeting place was indeed an ingenious choice.
Merrick waved his hand, signaling his subordinates to stay put, and he took a few of his trusted men upstairs.
When they reached the rooftop, sure enough, everyone was there.
A group of people, all dressed in black suits, stood in a circle on the rooftop.
In the center stood an altar, large and adorned with offerings and candles filling the table. A massive statue was placed in the middle, but no one was chanting the funeral hymns. In one corner of the altar sat a figure, dressed in black robe. Due to the distance and the darkness, the person's face was almost indistinguishable.
Merrick casually scanned the surroundings, but didn't spot the target. The only figure in sight was the blurry-faced man.
Merrick stepped forward, the gusting wind on the rooftop making his open coat flutter loudly. His golden, messy hair was blown around, and his bright, piercing eyes shone with a casual intensity as he walked toward the altar.
After taking a couple of steps, he was stopped. Thugs on either side pointed their guns directly at his head.
Merrick took a step back indifferently, creating some distance between himself and the guns.
He had already seen the person's face clearly: they wore a dark, fang-like mask, still hiding their true identity.
It was rumored to be "AE," the largest drug lord in several southern countries, who had always kept his true face hidden, remaining extremely mysterious.
"Did you bring the item?" AE's voice came through, processed and lowered to a ghostly tone, resonating on the rooftop.
Merrick pulled out the item AE had requested and lifted it, saying, "I brought the item, along with an extra gift for you."
"Oh?" AE sounded a bit intrigued.
Merrick turned as his subordinate, carrying a wooden box, stepped forward respectfully, only to be stopped by two guards before he could take another step.
"I'll open it myself." Merrick eased their concerns with a swift motion, removing the lid of the wooden box.
A sickening stench of blood and decay wafted from the box.
"This is the head of the guy who stole your drug formula. I thought a first meeting warranted a significant gift."
AE was silent for a long moment before a strange laugh came from his throat, made unnaturally shrill and piercing by the voice modulator.
"Nice gift. But—"
"But what?" Merrick knew AE was eccentric and not easily pleased.
"I only accept one person."
Merrick understood. He had brought too many subordinates.
"My apologies, I should have come alone. My mistake." He apologized sincerely, though his expression remained calm, without a hint of servility.
"And the others?"
"I'll have them leave immediately."
Merrick's men, hearing his command, turned to leave.
But behind them, AE's people had already raised their guns, a dark and deadly array.
Merrick raised an eyebrow and said loudly, "AE, I came to pledge my loyalty sincerely."
"I know. That's why I don't intend to refuse you," AE responded bluntly.
"Then what's this—" Merrick looked around, wondering if this was how AE welcomed people.
"That's why it's only you." AE's cold tone left his lips, followed by relentless gunfire and continuous screams from the building below.
After several rounds of bullets, silence fell once more.
Merrick gritted his teeth, fighting to control his impulse. His steps didn't move, but his body leaned slightly forward, struggling to maintain a neutral expression.
"The remaining ones, you—"
Merrick, finally enraged, tried to negotiate.
"They've followed me through life and death. They're my trust subordinates. They can work better for you."
"Heh—here, you don't need them, just a life to sell." AE seemed amused for Merrick's words, his gaze glinting with a deadly satisfaction.
Someone handed Merrick a gun. His men knelt, begging for mercy, while he gripped the weapon, longing to turn and shoot AE.
But that was impossible.
The circumstances, the situation, and his identity wouldn't allow it.
Merrick gritted his teeth, his hand gripping the gun with intense force. The knuckles of his fingers turned white, veins visibly bulging. Those hands were quite handsome, and his posture with the gun was exceptionally graceful, but his expression was terrifying.
"Sir, let me do it for you." The only one who hadn't begged for mercy was Daren, who had followed him for years.
Seizing a moment, Daren placed his hand over Merrick's trigger finger and pressed—
There was no sound, but the gun fired the next second.
Those who had begged for mercy instantly fell silent, each with a bullet hole in the center of their forehead, blood trickling down.
"Clap, clap—" AE applauded from behind, speaking in a tone of light-hearted delight, "Welcome, both of you."
