Chapter 10 Return The Dagger

"Get ready to fight. The moment you see those damn hostages, beat them within an inch of their lives! In all my years, this is the first time I've ever run this far because of a few hostages!" The truck driver panted heavily. The normally vicious thugs had been holding back their frustration all night. Now, their faces twisted with malice as they glared toward the darkness. About a minute later— Several figures appeared in their line of sight. "...Did we... make it out?" "I swear, the moment I get back, I'm turning myself into the City Lord's Mansion. I'd rather rot in a cell than deal with Black Street again." "No kidding. Compared to this, prison is paradise!" Their voices carried faintly through the night as they muttered to one another. Then— When they finally looked up, they realized, too late, that they were completely surrounded by a group of burly men. Heavy iron rods swung down viciously, landing on them with bone-crushing force. Their agonized screams filled the air, the scene turning brutally violent. The beating was so severe that two of the iron rods even bent out of shape. For a full twenty minutes, the merciless assault continued. By the end of it, the so-called vicious bandits lay sprawled on the ground, barely breathing. Their bodies ached, their vision blurred, and all they could do was stare at the pitch-black night sky, their eyes filled with pain and despair. If— If they had never bullied that girl in school, they wouldn't have been expelled. If they hadn't been expelled, they wouldn't have fallen in with their boss. If they had never met him, they never would have ended up on Black Street. And they never would have ended up like this. For the first time, all they felt was regret. But it was far too late. The truck driver casually picked up an iron rod from the ground and dragged it as he walked up to them. The truck driver grabbed a metal rod from the ground and dragged it along as he walked up to the group. In the blurred vision of one of the men, he saw the driver coldly raise the rod high above his head before bringing it crashing down. After that, he remembered nothing. "A bunch of damn bastards. Watch over them. We'll head back after sunrise. Get in touch with the buyer. Make sure not to waste a single thing on them. Got it?" Now that Hubert was gone, his demeanor returned to its usual elegance. He glanced at his thugs and gave his orders with a calm tone before stepping aside, pulling out his phone to report the situation to his boss. As for the unconscious fierce bandits sprawled on the ground—no one paid them any attention. It was as if their only real value lay in the organs inside their bodies. ****** Morning. The warm sunlight bathed the streets, painting a picture of peace and tranquility. The psychological counseling clinic that had been half-destroyed by a crash still stood in its ruined state. Only now, the sign had been taken down and replaced with one that read Cutlery Shop. An elderly man was lazily cleaning up the debris. As for the car that had plowed into the building, it had mysteriously disappeared. Hubert parked the truck directly across from Redted Bank. This was where those ambitious bandits had prepared for their big move. It was the place where their dream had begun. And the place where it had ended. In just one day, their lives had been completely rewritten. Only Hubert remained. Well... Not quite. Monkey was still here too. He had also returned to the place where the dream had started— Except Hubert was standing in the sunlight on the street... while Monkey was tied up in the back of the truck. Strictly speaking... Blue Hair was still here as well. He was hanging across the street, pinned to the left side of the bank's exterior wall. His blood had long since dried up, and now he stared at them from a distance, barely making it into the final scene. Right on schedule, the bank doors opened. Security Guard A stood at the entrance. He froze for a moment when he saw the familiar truck, but what truly sent a chill down his spine was the sight of Hubert standing at the bank's entrance. Across the street, Hubert flashed him a bright smile. The morning was warm, yet Security Guard A felt as if he had been plunged into an icy abyss. He's back? And he's driving that guy's truck? What the hell happened last night?! Security Guard A took a deep breath, forcing down his curiosity. Instead, he mustered up a stiff smile in response before quickly turning on his heel and retreating into the bank without hesitation. One thing was absolutely certain— Hubert was not someone to mess with. Best to stay far away from him. Fortunately, that enigmatic man didn't seem interested in causing trouble at the bank. He simply stood on the sidewalk, seemingly searching for something. About an hour later. A refined-looking man, carrying a briefcase, hurried past. Hubert's eyes lit up. He stepped forward. "Thanks for the dagger! Though I never got the chance to use it." The man had been deep in thought the entire way, his brows furrowed as if preoccupied with something important. Caught off guard by Hubert's sudden voice, he stiffened and turned, wary. His gaze fell on Hubert's somewhat familiar face—then shifted to the dagger in his hand. Recognition dawned. "You succeeded?" The words came out instinctively, a polite acknowledgment. But then his eyes drifted toward the corpse of Blue Hair, still hanging from the wall. "No, we failed. What a shame." Hubert said it with a smile. Yet there wasn't a trace of regret on his face. "You didn't have to return it, you know. I'm always happy to support a young man's dreams." The man took back the dagger, his mood seeming to lift slightly as he chuckled. Hubert shook his head seriously and said, "No way. I said I was borrowing it, and if you borrow something... you return it!" "Borrow... return..." The man muttered Hubert's words as if something had just clicked in his mind. His eyes widened in shock, and a hint of fear flickered in his gaze. "I... I've got something to take care of. I should go now." With that, he grabbed his briefcase again and hurried off without even daring to look back. If he remembered correctly... That phrase — "If you borrow something, you return it" — was the signature line of that Lunatic from Central Street! He must have just run into a big shot! Normally, running into a big shot elsewhere was considered lucky. But on Black Street... It was deadly! "Mmmph! Mmmphhh!" The cargo truck behind him shook violently. Faint, muffled sobs came from inside. Hubert stood by the truck, smiling as he watched the young man with the briefcase disappear down the street. Only then did he finally turn back, looking satisfied as he climbed into the driver's seat, started the engine, and drove off.