Diego Martins could be seen pacing up and down in his officeReports of his brutality got to the head of security and Lucas was summoned.“Your strength and vigor are for battles and not for innocent, gullible elite men. In four nights two hundred and fifty men have fallen, Carlisebella Casino burned down, Carlos slaughtered, Rodrigo slew like a rat, Jose Pablo killed in cold blood, and Thick Ass Club burned down. You have restricted everyone from accessing the refinery. You restricted the presidential burial ground, a national asset. Who the hell are you?”“Those acres of land for the refinery belong to my father. I have come to reclaim them and find my pregnant wife that was kidnapped.” He groaned,“The government owns that crude oil land, and built a refinery there. Only Mr. President can give you a proper explanation.”“Good riddance. I want to see Mr. President,” Lucas replied.“Who the hell are you to see Mr. President?”Lucas screwed up his brow.Retrieve your soldiers and forg

“Attack! Attack !” the commandant ordered his men.And Lucas could hear the stamping of boot on the decking, the arrival of more back up.A soldier dived at him with a dagger and he suspended him in the air, swung him around and tossed at the commandant, hitting him in the chest and he smashed him on the ground.The back-up had arrived now and he could see quite a number of them, armed with rifles, blades, and mastiffs. They found their commandant on the floor and they approached him.“Sir! Sir! Are you OK? Are you OK?” they asked repeatedly.“Stop asking me all the question and go and fight?” the commandant replied arrogantly, “Where is Dracola? Did you come with him?” he asked.“I am here sir,” the groaning, voice echoed so loudly, striking silence across the yard,Dracola was a huge giant, with bigger palms and skull. His height was 7’5 inches, and his weapon was five edged sword, which often dripped of blood because he was always in the battle front.Dracola had the record of neve

Standing his ground, Lucas dimmed his eyes at the crowd of men stepping out from the crib, and the one in front wasn’t too unfamiliar.He was Miles Pablo; his cold eyes and conical eyes had always been there and his distinct pony tail white hair would forever describe his annoying looks.“Who are you, man?” Miles asked and was a bit cautious to step forward. His eyes fixed on the bag of heads Lucas had and the other thick bloodied head in his hand. “What do you want, bogey?”“I want your life. Your head must make this up,” Lucas groaned, raised the heads and lowered his gaze, losing interest in locking gaze with the street fighters that surrounded Miles. “Give me your life or better still kill yourself and I will turn back and go.”“You must be an amateur bastard for saying that!” Miles yelled, folding his fist, “I guess you don’t know who you are talking to. I am Miles Pablo, the king of the street fighters, this fist has snapped the breath of men more fierce than you, and you stand