"Please don’t do this." A middle-aged man with dark hair and a rather large stomach begged while kneeling.
Before he could say another word, a heavy blow struck the side of his face causing him to fall over.
"Daddy!" An innocent voice called out from the side.
The man raised his hand as he glanced at the origin of the voice.
In a corner of the room, a middle-aged woman with chestnut-colored hair and a little girl sat, cowering in fear from the intruders that invaded their humble home.
Revealing a smile despite his bloodied teeth and swollen lip, the man remarked. "Daddy’s fine, dear. Just stay there. Everything will be okay soon."
"Bold of you to assume that everything is going to be okay, Morris."
The middle-aged man... no, Morris stiffened for a moment before turning to the one that spoke.
A burly man with a terrifying scar across his left eye sat on a wooden chair an arm’s length away from Morris’s position.
Behind the man, two other men stood.
One thin and the other fat, with both carrying weapons.
Despite the pain he was feeling, Morris quickly got back on his knees before placing his hands together. "You have to understand, Madhound. I didn’t do it on purpose."
Madhound revealed a mocking grin. "Did you hear that, boys?... The protest that he organized was something done by accident."
"Keke, brother, this bastard is taking us for a fool. Maybe after we take an arm and leg, he’d understand his situation."
"No please." Morris turned apprehensive. "It was impulsive of me. Please forgive me, it won’t happen again."
Madhound sighed. "I liked you a lot Morris. I mean, there’s a reason I made you and those old fogies take charge of the activities in this filthy slum. But what did you repay me with?... You dare to organize a protest and after getting arrested, dared to snitch on us."
"It was an accident."
"Shut up!" Madhound growled as he struck Morris again, this time aiming for the gut.
The latter fell over while retching but nothing came out.
"I’ve had it with you bastards. It’s time for some change. Since you guys can’t accept the peace we offered, I’ve decided to take charge and rule with fear. Maybe that way you’d understand that you are nothing but insects."
Morris gritted his teeth as he glanced at Madhound. "...You are one of us, so why do this to us?... Why do you oppress your people?... I only organized the protest because we had no choice."
Madhound shook his head. "What a pity. However, I don’t believe I asked you to say anything."
"... I made a mistake." Morris glanced at his wife and child before looking back at Madhound. "Punish me but leave them alone... please."
Madhound got to his feet and made his way toward the girls in the corner.
"Madhound, please!" Morris begged as he grabbed hold of Madhound’s leg.
The latter looked down at him and sneered. "You will die with a lot of regrets today, Morris. Prepare yourself."
Using his other leg to smash into Morris’s face, Madhound knocked him out cold before gesturing for his men to pick up the fool.
Then he made his way over to the ladies and crouched down to their eye level.
"Please..." the older lady said as she pulled her daughter close to her bosom.
Madhound revealed a sad expression as he reached out and grabbed the woman’s hand. "... Don’t blame me, my dear. Blame the man you married for dreaming about unnecessary things."
Then without mercy, he yanked her hand away from her daughter with a crisp sound of her arm breaking echoing.
As she yelled in pain, Madhound picked up her daughter amidst the struggles and casually made his way out of the building.
With a crazed expression on his face, he had made his decision.
Tonight... the slums shall weep!
However, unbeknownst to him and his crew members as they went about dragging out those that had participated in the recent protest that took place, a certain figure seated at the highest point closest to the slums, watched them with a haunting gaze.
"Daddy... daddy, wake up."
Morris woke up to the sounds of a little girl.
Opening his eyes, he glanced at his chest to find his precious daughter crying over him.
"Mildred." He called out in a hoarse tone.
The girl... no, Mildred glanced at Morris before hugging his neck.
Her cries were soft and as her snort fell on Morris’s neck, she muttered. "Daddy, I’m scared."
Morris revealed a wry smile as he hugged her back. "Don’t worry. Everything is going to be alright."
"I promise, my dear. You trust me, don’t you?"
Mildred pulled out of the hug to meet Morris’s gaze before nodding repeatedly.
"Good girl. Now stop crying." Morris remarked, using his hands to wipe the snort and tears from his daughter’s face.
As he sat up, he surveyed his surroundings only to realize that he wasn’t the only one in the abandoned warehouse he was in.
Instead, he noticed several familiar faces, all of whom had supported him when he decided to organize the protest.
Just like him, some were taken along with a kid while those that didn’t have kids were with their wives or family member instead.
Seeing his people in such a condition, Morris couldn’t help but regret ever organizing the protest that day.
What had he accomplished?
Not only did they end up not achieving anything and even getting a young boy killed, but now they were still paying for their actions.
He wondered why the world was so unfair.
Pursing his lips, he decided to speak up... and so he did.
"I know you all are angry and hurt... if possible when the time comes, I want you to blame me for everything."
Mildred looked up at her father. "Daddy?"
Just then, someone spoke up. "There’s no need trying to be a hero, Morris. You did no wrong, and neither did anyone here. So whatever happens... let’s face it together."
Morris felt his heart tighten at that moment.
Even in such situations... they remained comrades.
Nodding softly, he replied. "Yes... let’s face it together."
Madhound and his gang sat around a campfire just outside the warehouse, indulging themselves in alcohol and meat.
While enjoying themselves, they didn’t notice the approach of a figure.
Dressed in a black leather coat with a hat and a strange mask over his face, the figure walked with a steady gait.
By the time they noticed him, he was merely a few meters away from their gathering.
"Oi, what the fuck are you doing here?"
"Yeh, where do you think you are?"
Madhound rose to his feet and met his gaze. "Who are you?"
The masked man replied hoarsely as he glanced at the night sky. "A beautiful night, don’t you agree?"
Madhound narrowed his eyes as he reached for his revolver. "I ask again, who are you?"
Sighing heavily, the masked man didn’t bother with a response as he snapped his fingers.
Madhound watched in shock as the man disappeared in a wave of pulsating black and white and appeared a moment later in front of him.
As he tried to back away, the man reached for him and grabbed his arm before landing a punch in his gut.
Madhound whizzed as he felt the air leave his lungs before he collapsed to the floor.
"Hey, the hell is this?!"
A moment later, chaos descended on his camp.
Struggling to get to his feet, Madhound helplessly watched as the man weaved through his men like some sort of ghost, making quick work of them.
He had heard about beings capable of superhuman feats but having never come in contact with them, he thought them to be made-up stories.
However, at this moment, he regretted remaining ignorant.
By the time he managed to get back to his feet, the man was already done knocking out his men.
Madhound gritted his teeth as he pulled out his revolver and aimed at the man but hearing a finger snap before he could shoot, he felt his body go stiff, preventing him from pulling the trigger.
Revealing a terrified expression, he asked. "...Who are you?"
The masked man stood at arm’s length away from him before slowly replying. "I am..."