Chapter 6 Fools Don't Last Long On Black Street

The basement was vast and empty, swallowed by darkness. Even the slightest movement from the robbers sent echoes bouncing through the chamber. Most of them still hadn't processed their leader's sudden death. It had happened so fast—too fast for them to mentally prepare. Just as the suffocating fear in their hearts reached a breaking point, a faint glow suddenly flickered to life in the darkness. "Wow... much better like this." Hubert, who had been tied up in the corner, had somehow freed himself—without making a sound. And now, he had produced a lighter from who-knew-where, using its small flame to illuminate their cold, despair-ridden hearts. He stood there in thought for a few seconds before casually walking toward Monkey. Monkey's eyes lit up! Thank god he had convinced their boss not to kill Hubert! A guy who had survived on Black Street for so long was built differently! Who would've thought his brilliant foresight would end up saving his life?! With that in mind, Monkey struggled on the ground, inching closer to Hubert, looking at him with hopeful anticipation. Then— He watched, in stunned silence, as Hubert crouched down beside him and took off his own jacket. Since his hands were tied, taking off a jacket was a hassle. But Hubert simply borrowed a knife, cut the jacket into pieces, piled them up, and set them on fire with his lighter. In an instant, the basement became brighter—warmer, even. "??? Why didn't you untie me?" Monkey curled up awkwardly in the corner, his head tilted in disbelief as he stared at Hubert. Hubert, now seated comfortably in front of the fire, looked genuinely puzzled. "Why would I untie you?" "Because we're teammates!!! If you save us, with more people, we have a better chance of escaping!" Monkey was shocked. It was such a simple logic—why was Hubert even questioning it?! "We're not teammates. We were coworkers. But the boss is dead. No one's paying me anymore, so our company has dissolved. Since it's already dissolved... why the hell would I save you?" Hubert carefully analyzed the logic, taking the initiative to explain. Then, he lowered his head slightly, as if deep in thought. After a moment, he looked up again, smiling at everyone. "Besides, I can't escape. In the fragmented memories of my 'dream,' I no longer remember where exactly you were all sold. This is important. I have to go there." Under the flickering firelight, Hubert's gaze was so clear, so sincere—it gave people a sense of trust. But in this situation, who the hell needed that?! You're not even leading us out! The last thread of Monkey's sanity snapped completely. His eyes turned hollow, lifeless. "Black Street..." "Black Street!!!" "Everyone here... they're all devils!" His voice took on a manic edge, his words almost deranged. The next second, Monkey twisted his face into a vicious snarl and glared at Hubert. "The boss asked you—if you were robbing a bank, how would you do it? And you answered—just rob it directly! So from the very beginning, you planned for us to die, didn't you?! Liar! You damn liar!!!" Now that he had figured it out, Monkey was losing his mind, struggling desperately. If he could, he would've lunged at Hubert and ripped off a piece of his flesh with his teeth. But Hubert only smiled and shook his head. He stepped forward, casually slashing off another captive's coat and tossing it into the fire to keep it burning. Only then did he lean closer to Monkey, crouching down in front of him. With his back to the fire, most of Hubert's face was shrouded in shadow, making his smile seem even colder. "The boss asked how I would rob a bank. So, my answer wasn't wrong. The boss said 'Scarface needed a plan. I didn't.'" Hubert lost interest in chatting and stood up lazily. He continued cutting up the captives' coats, tossing them into the fire from time to time. Monkey slumped in the corner, staring blankly at the ground, mumbling to himself like a fool. "Huh? Were there candles in here before?" Nearly twenty minutes later, Hubert's surprised voice rang out. He quickly walked to a corner, picked up a broken candle, and lit it. Only then did he sit back down, satisfied, quietly waiting. Even though he had freed himself from his restraints, he made no attempt to escape. At this point, none of them had a clue what Hubert was planning. Every move he made was unpredictable, impossible to decipher. If he were a lunatic, why did he act so normal most of the time? If he were normal, why did he do things no normal person would ever do? Hours passed, yet the two security guards never returned. During that time, Hubert even took a nap in the corner. When he woke up, he somehow pulled out an apple from god-knows-where and started eating it. The crisp sound of him biting into the apple echoed through the silent basement, loud and clear. Even though everyone knew their fate was sealed, they still couldn't help but swallow their saliva. In the end— The only thing keeping their last shred of hope alive—the candle—quietly burned out. So when the two security guards finally pushed open the door, no one struggled. Instead, for some reason, they felt relieved. The unknown—that was what truly terrified people. And now, at least they knew how they were going to die. As tragic as it sounded, it somehow made things... easier to accept. Security Guard A raised his flashlight and looked around. When the light landed on Hubert, his brows furrowed slightly, and his gaze became increasingly wary. "Since you've broken free, why don't you run?" His voice was cold. "I'm too poor to afford food. If you sell me off, maybe the new boss will like me and give me a decent job." Hubert sat in the corner, leaning against the wall, smiling as he spoke. Security Guard B quietly leaned in next to A and whispered in his ear, "This guy's trouble." "Of course, I'm not an idiot," Security Guard A rolled his eyes. "He's clearly got his own agenda. As long as he doesn't mess with our interests, I can't be bothered. We sell him, and once the deal's done, he's no longer our problem." Security Guard B nodded slightly. So, in front of everyone, they escorted the other captives out of the basement. As for Hubert, they didn't even glance at him. If you want to come with us, fine. If not, go on your own; we won't chase after you. This was the usual caution of Black Street's residents. If they felt you might pose even the slightest threat, they wouldn't provoke you. As they always said, fools don't last long on Black Street.