Dear Heroes, I really am a Villain-Chapter 61: Unlucky Bastards First Half

Just yesterday, a new gang showed up and demanded a protection fee. I had just paid another gang, but I didn’t want my shop wrecked, so I gave in and paid the new one too. I just hope the old gang doesn’t come to collect again, considering I paid them only a few days ago.

"Oi! Sam! Time for your payment!" That damn scumbag’s voice rang out from outside. All of them walked into my restaurant.

"I just paid you the other day! Didn’t you say you only collect once a week? It hasn’t even been a week yet!" I argued.

"Yes, it’s once a week—but we changed the week’s end. Yesterday was the week’s end, and today is the start of a new week," the scumbag smirked.

"Yesterday was Wednesday! I paid you on Sunday and Monday, and now you’re saying you’ve changed it!?" I snapped.

"You’re right!" the scumbag nodded, thinking about it.

Phew. At least this scumbag can be reasoned with.

"Boss, isn’t our calendar just one day per week?" one of the goons chimed in.

"That’s right! Thanks for reminding me!"

What!? What the hell!?

"Now pay up, Sam! I know you’ve got money." The scumbag reached out his hand.

"But..."

Are you kidding me!? If I pay you, I won’t have any money left to keep my business going! That new gang, and this old gang—how the hell am I supposed to pay both!? This... this is too much!

"But what!? Pay up!" the scumbag roared.

Crash! Boom!

"Arrrgghh!" "No! Please!" My employee and the customers started screaming.

The scumbags began smashing my cash register, my plates, and threw the chairs and tables out of my shop! They even beat up my staff and customers! It’s over! It’s all over!

Then, another group walked into my shop... wait! It’s the new gang! Are they here to fleece me again!?

"It’s a good thing we patrol here—otherwise we’d have missed this golden opportunity to make some money," said the leader of the group, a muscular guy in a red Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned to show off his physique.

What are they talking about—making money opportunity? Are they going to rob me too!? God! I can’t live like this. I have rent and electricity bills due next week!

"Oi, bastard! Who gave you permission to step your rotten foot in here and mess up the place, huh?" the Hawaiian gang leader said, glaring at the old gang.

Huh? Aren’t they here to fleece me? Are they going to fight each other!? That’s great! Just kill each other and be done with it! If you all die, I won’t have to pay anyone anymore!

"And who the fck are you? If you’re the new gang, f*ck off, this place is claimed!" the old gang barked back.

The Hawaiian leader didn’t answer. He just looked around and then turned toward me.

"Sir, your shop appears to have been destroyed by these idiots. According to the contract we signed yesterday when you paid us the protection fee, you have the right to pursue compensation from them. We’ll do everything in our power to make sure you get the money you deserve," the leader said.

Is this guy serious!?

"Yes! I do want to pursue compensation! I want my money! Get it from them—I want to see it happen!" I roared, letting out all the rage I had bottled up. I didn’t care anymore! If this was going to be the last day of my life! So be it!

"With pleasure," the leader said, then turned to face the old gang.

Boom!

The Hawaiian gang leader punched the guts out of the old gang leader, and the rest followed. The old gang tried to fight back, but they were completely outclassed. The Hawaiian gang was way stronger.

They outmatched them in both skill and physical power. It was like they had years of hand-to-hand combat training. I saw joint locks, counterpunches, throws... wait... was that Judo? Or Aikido? I didn’t know, but these guys were good.

Strangely enough, despite the brutal beatdown, aside from the floor being stained with the gangsters’ blood—none of my shop’s property was damaged. These guys were professionals.

In just a few minutes, the old gang was lying all over the floor, their mouths full of blood, and their teeth scattered like broken glass.

"Tch tch tch, look..." the Hawaiian leader feigned pity, pointing at the blood and teeth littering the floor.

"Your blood and teeth are everywhere... you’ve made a mess of his shop again. Guess we have no choice but to collect extra compensation," he said with a smirk, and his goons laughed.

"But... but you guys beat us up..." the old gang protested.

"Yes... we beat you up, but it’s your saliva, blood, and teeth that messed up the owner’s shop, isn’t it? So stop whining—and pay up!"

Pow!

The Hawaiian leader stomped on the old gang leader’s stomach, making him spit up even more blood and saliva.

"You!... Do you know who we work for!? It’s Sangue Reale! Hahaha! You’re dead! All of your loved ones, dead! Hahahaha!" the old gang leader shouted, spitting out the name of one of the top mafias that operated with HQ in the Fringe.

Shit... this is bad. Really bad. The Sangue Reale!? The same Sangue Reale that massacred several police families just because one of their lieutenants got arrested!?

"So... this means we can collect all the compensation directly from Sangue Reale?" the Hawaiian gang leader said with a wide grin.

"This is great! But this job might be too big for us. I think we need to call the boss over," he said to his gang.

"Alright! Yeah!" "If the boss shows up—" "They’re toast! Hahahaha!"

What? They’re excited? Are they even right in the head!? fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

After that, they tied up the old gang. One of the Hawaiian guys stayed behind to help me clean the shop, while the others dragged the beaten gang members outside and threw them into a car parked out front.

God... I really hope they don’t end up bringing even more trouble to me.

— Ricardo POV —

We arrived at the Sangue Reale manor in the Fringe. To be honest, even though we’ve been trained by the boss, I still don’t have the confidence to take down their entire gang. Right now, I’m waiting outside—not too far from the Sangue Reale manor—but I have to keep some distance. Otherwise, they might realize we’re watching them.

We’ve been waiting here for over an hour already, but the boss still hasn’t shown up. I wonder if he canceled the operation and just went to sleep.

But no... I don’t think so. If the boss had canceled, he would’ve told us already.

BOOOOOOM!

An explosion rocked the entire manor. I even saw the flames from where I was—fire bursting into the air like a miniature nuclear blast. Whatever the boss just did, it’s definitely going to get their attention!

Ratatatatata! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

"F*ck! Kill him! Kill him!!!"

"It’s just one man! Why can’t you kill him!?"

"Arrrrggghh! My arm! My arm!"

"My legggg! Argrrrgghhhhh!"

The sound of gunfire and chaos could be heard from outside. The guards at the door quickly ran inside to help with the fight, but their involvement only added to the chorus of screams.

After a few more minutes, my phone rang. I looked at the number—clearly it was the boss.

"Yes, Boss?"

"You guys can come in. Drag those bastards over too. I need to have a nice little talk with Don Reale," the boss said on the other end.

"Brothers, the boss is calling us. Let’s move." I called the group to follow me.

Once we passed the gate, we saw corpses scattered everywhere—some with gunshot wounds, some with slash marks. A few were still alive, lying on the ground and gasping for air. Some were groaning, clutching at limbs that had been cut clean off.

"Damn... the boss didn’t f*ck around, did he," Rusty muttered as he took in the scene.

"It couldn’t be helped. These bastards had guns. The boss didn’t have time to play nice and break each one of their bones," I replied.

"Yeah... and from the looks of it, the boss actually showed mercy. Some of them are still alive," another added.

At this time, the bastards we dragged along with us had faces pale as if someone had powdered them. They tried to talk, but could only let out muffled "umm ummm" sounds—because I got tired of hearing their curses and shoved our socks into their mouths.

Though... I do pity the poor bastard who ended up with Rusty’s sock in his mouth. That must be absolutely disgusting.

Ratatatatata!

"Arrrrrgggghhh! Come out! Come out! Where are you!!" one of the Sangue Reale bastards roared, firing his gun into the air. We quickly ducked down—it looked like the boss was playing with his prey again.

And just as I thought, a moment later, the boss appeared behind him and broke his arms, legs, and even his ribcage. Damn... looks like he’s pissed off. He broke nearly every bone in that bastard’s body. I wonder what set him off so badly.