Somewhere in the dark, in deep shadows, a sharp, menacing man sat on his newly polished golden chair. The room was engulfed in darkness—pitch black, like a black hole. His face wasn't visible, swallowed by the shadows, but his blue eyes still gleamed brightly. He sat in a relaxed posture, both legs resting against a glass table.
Suddenly, a large figure-shaped telephone beside him rang three times—
"Tring… tring… tring…"
Slowly, he picked up the phone. After four seconds of silence, he spoke in a deep, commanding tone:
"Don't kill him. Bring him to me. I want that brat alive."
He hung up the phone and then reached down, opening a front drawer under the table. Inside were several guns and scattered documents. Among them was a single poster. A wanted face. Who else could it be?
Hunter Young.
Heavy breathing.
Heavy heartbeats.
Gunshots.
More gunshots.
Boom.
"What are you waiting for? Were you asleep while eating, loser?" Rachel shouted loudly.
Both their parents turned toward Hunter, confused by his blank expression. He flinched.
"Sorry, I was deep in thought," Hunter replied quickly.
Rachel leaned closer, raising an eyebrow. "What? What were you thinking about? Your girlfriend?"
Amy pointed at Rachel and interrupted, "Enough, Rachel. Why are you bullying him?"
Rachel chuckled softly under her breath. Oliver, meanwhile, didn't react much—his attention was buried in his phone. Amy stepped in again and said, "No phones allowed at the dining table." She grabbed the phone from him.
"Oh God, Amy, come on. It's work," Oliver protested. But after seeing Amy's serious expression, he gave up and quietly resumed eating.
Hunter finished his food without another word and walked up to his room. Something inside was bothering him—annoying him, eating at his peace of mind. It felt like pressure and dread wrapped together. He lay down on his bed with his eyes shut, trying to escape whatever was clawing at his mind.
Far away, in a mysterious and secluded location, there stood a massive black warehouse. It belonged to Amanda. Dozens of BMWs were parked outside, lined up with precision.
Inside the warehouse, a tall man in a black suit addressed his group. His voice was cold, authoritative, and calculated. He spoke about violence and killings.
Liu Xiang.
"We're not here to kill anyone, okay?" he said in a tone that left no room for argument. "We need to capture. Only capture. But if things get messy, we have full permission to involve bloodshed and violence. It's in God's hands now."
"Are we clear?" Liu Xiang said in a raised voice.
"Yes, sir!" all the members responded firmly.
He scanned the room with a cold gaze and began assigning tasks. His two most trusted subordinates, the ones leading the mission to kidnap Hunter, were Briann and Helena.
"These two will lead the operation," Liu Xiang said firmly. "Follow their instructions. And listen to me very clearly—do not kill that brat. We want him alive. If any of you dare make a mistake, I'll burn you all in hell."
He walked slowly down the room as his eyes locked on his team. "Remember what I said. This plan is important. If it fails, I'll initiate Plan B myself. So don't worry. Just stick to the instructions. No killing. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!" came the unified reply again.
With that, they left the warehouse, their mission clear: capture Hunter Young alive.
It was 6:00 PM.
Oliver was dressed in a dark blue suit and black formal pants. His beautiful wife, Amy, wore a red velvet dress. Her curled hairstyle, perfectly done makeup, and elegant demeanor made her look like a professional model. She looked stunning.
Hunter came downstairs and was amazed by their appearance. He asked, half-jokingly, "Are you two really going to meet a client, or is this a date?"
Amy blushed. "Stop it, Hunter. We've got to make a good impression on the client. Our personality always comes first. You know what I mean, right, son?"
Oliver smiled calmly and gave a slight cough, amused.
Just then, Rachel, yawning, came down the stairs. Her red hair was slightly messy from sleep, but she froze when she saw their parents.
"What in the world is this? Are you guys making a debut in Hollywood?" she joked. "Dad, you literally look like Thomas Shelby. And Mom—you look like Daly Smith from Lord of the Mysteries."
Oliver and Amy burst into laughter at her comment, while Hunter smiled too. For a short while, the family shared a wholesome moment.
Amy held Oliver's hand, and they were ready to leave for the important meeting. The couple stepped outside.
Hunter and Rachel followed them out to say goodbye. Oliver and Amy, happy and excited, stood near the street as they gave a few final reminders to Rachel and Hunter about locking the doors, checking the stove, and keeping things in order.
Just a few miles away, roaring down the road, ten BMWs were speeding toward them. The engines thundered like monsters unleashed.
As Oliver and Amy were still giving their goodbyes, one of the BMWs swerved from its group at terrifying speed and—
SLAM!
It crashed into both of them with tremendous force.
Their bodies were flung like ragdolls and smashed into a nearby tall, silver electric pole. The impact was so brutal, it cut their bodies in half. Blood sprayed across the sidewalk. The BMW exploded in a massive blast, sending flames and shockwaves in every direction.
Rachel and Hunter, just a few meters away, were thrown back from the force. Rachel's head hit the ground with a sickening thud. Hunter was slammed into a wall, cracking it, before bouncing onto the road. Blood streamed from his skull.
He gasped in horror.
"Rachel! Rachel! Rachel?" he cried out in agony, crawling toward her with weak, trembling arms.
Then he looked forward.
There they were.
The bodies of Oliver and Amy—severed in two—lay motionless. Blood drenched the street like a tragic work of art. Their remains looked like a twisted painting, but it wasn't art. It was real. It was human. It was family.
Hunter screamed in pain. His limbs wouldn't move. His body was frozen. His heart pounded in despair, rage, and grief. His eyes remained locked on the corpses of the people he loved the most.
Tears streamed down his face.
"No... No... NOOOOOO!
You bloody... FUCKERS!"