BLACK DRAGON CONTRACT

Chapter 4: The Back Alley Encounter

The following morning, Marco left Maria sound asleep, her body covered in red marks of possession. He slipped out, not as a husband seeking breakfast, but as a hunter seeking escaped prey.

Vinnie "The Shark" was wounded. And like a real shark, if injured, he would flee to deeper, darker waters.

A trail of blood and info from street informants led Marco to "The Rusty Anchor," a rundown bar at the edge of the warehouse district that smelled like a mixture of rat piss, stale beer, and cheap cigarette smoke. This was where the dregs of society usually gathered to avoid the scorching sun.

Marco pushed the heavy wooden door open.

Clink.

The door chime rang, but the blaring old rock music drowned it out. Inside the dimly lit bar, cigarette smoke hung thick.

Marco walked to the bar counter, ignoring the suspicious stares of several local thugs. He ordered a glass of cheap whiskey merely as a prerequisite for sitting down.

His eyes, which now possessed the [PASSIVE SCAN: LEVEL 1] feature, swept the room.

In the corner of the room, there was a commotion.

A round table was surrounded by six large men. In the center of them sat a skinny, disheveled young man wearing a faded purple suit that looked like it was stolen from a circus. He was dressed similarly to an obsolete Joker costume.

The young man was flipping a butterfly knife (balisong) between his fingers with a blinding speed that hurt the eye, all while giggling like a mad joker.

"Come on, gentlemen," the young man said, his voice grating but full of mockery, "You call four Aces cheating? That's called luck! God loves me today!"

"God be damned!" snarled one bald thug holding a card, "You hid the cards up your sleeve, bastard! I saw it myself!"

The young man, Julian, stopped flipping his knife. He looked up at the Bald Thug with a wide, tearing smile across his face.

"You saw?" Julian tilted his head, "Your eyes are sharp for a gorilla. But pity..."

SREET!

Without warning, Julian plunged the folding knife into the table, right between the Bald Thug's ring and middle fingers.

"AAARGHH!" The Bald Thug jumped in shock, tumbling off his chair even though his finger hadn't been scratched at all. It was just a bluff.

"Oops, sorry, my hand slipped! Tsk tsk tsk... oh man, your face! You look like a pig about to be slaughtered, ha ha ha!" Julian laughed, wiggling his butt.

Suddenly, Marco’s attention was broken by a System notification that flickered, brighter than usual. Golden color.

[POTENTIAL RECRUITMENT DETECTED!]

[NAME: JULIAN "JOKER" THORNE]

[CLASS: S-CLASS (RARE)]

[SPECIAL SKILLS: CHAOS MASTERY, KNIFE ARTS, UNPREDICTABLE.]

[CURRENT STATUS: IN DANGER (SURROUNDED BY 10 PEOPLE).]

[ADVICE: SECURE THIS ASSET FOR THE FUTURE ORGANIZATION.]

"S-Class?" Marco muttered. He didn't even know his own class, but 'S' usually meant Sick in the Head or Special. Seeing Julian's behavior, it seemed like both… Especially Sick in the Head.

The six men at the table had run out of patience. Four more from the next table stood up—friends of the Bald Thug. Ten against one.

"Get him! Tear his mouth apart!" shouted the Bald Thug.

They lunged forward.

Julian smiled bitterly, his hand reaching into his pocket, searching for another weapon. He was starting to be cornered.

CRASH!

A beer bottle flew across the room and smashed directly on the head of the thug closest to Julian. The thug collapsed instantly, blood gushing from his scalp.

Silence. All eyes turned toward the thrower.

Marco was standing there, his throwing hand still in position. His face was flat.

"I don't like gang-ups," Marco said casually, taking a sip of the rest of his whiskey, "Unless I'm invited too!"

Julian peered out from behind the shoulder of the thug who was about to hit him. His eyes sparkled when he saw Marco, "Wow! A hero in... ughh, a bum's hoodie?! Bro, whose friend are you?"

"Your friend," Marco replied curtly, "If you want to live, stop just being a crazy joker!"

"KILL THEM BOTH!" screamed the Bald Thug.

The bar fight finally erupted.

[COMBAT MODE: ACTIVATED]

[ENEMIES: 9 PEOPLE (LOW LEVEL)]

Marco lunged forward like a bull. He didn't use beautiful martial arts techniques. He used pure brute force.

One thug tried to stab Marco with the broken bottle. Marco caught his wrist, twisted it until it went CRACK, then kicked the man's knee until it bent the wrong way.

"ARGHHH!"

On the other side, Julian moved like quicksilver. Slippery and deadly.

He didn't punch. He sliced.

Slice! Slice!

His butterfly knife danced, aiming for the delicate veins in the opponents' wrists and thighs.

"Ouch! My hand!" cried a thug who suddenly couldn't hold his club because his tendon was severed.

Julian leaped onto a table, kicked someone in the face, then landed next to Marco. They stood back-to-back in the middle of the encirclement.

"Your style is so stiff, friend! So 'straightforward,' exactly like a bull," Julian commented, wiping blood (whose blood, he didn't know) from his cheek. He grinned madly, "No art! Not enough BANG-BANG-BOOM!"

Marco caught the fist of a large thug, then countered with a headbutt that crushed the opponent's nose inward toward his skull.

THUD!

"Well, I'm not an artist, damn it!" Marco growled. He grabbed a wooden chair, slamming it into the back of another enemy until the chair shattered into pieces, "I'm a butcher!"

Julian laughed (though it wasn't funny) in the middle of the fight, "A butcher?! I like butchers! Okay, Mr. Butcher, watch my trick!"

Julian threw a handful of white powder (pepper mixed with salt from the nearby table) into the eyes of two attackers.

"My eyes! It stings, you bastard!"

While they were momentarily blinded, Julian advanced, his knife stabbing their thighs alternately with surgical precision. Not lethal, but enough to cripple them completely.

In less than three minutes, the floor of "The Rusty Anchor" was full of people groaning in pain. Some had broken bones, some were bleeding, and some were temporarily blind.

Marco stood in the middle of the chaos, breathing slightly heavily. His jacket… torn again (Maria would be mad), but he was unharmed. The System protected him with [PAIN SUPPRESSION].

Julian sat cross-legged on the chest of the now-unconscious Bald Thug, using the man's back as a casual seat. He was lighting a cigarette with a hand that trembled slightly from excitement.

"Phew," Julian exhaled smoke, forming a ring. He looked Marco up and down, "You're a monster, friend. Seriously. I've never seen anyone break a neck bone as casually as breaking a breadstick!"

Marco looked at Julian. The System gave a green notification.

[RECRUITMENT AVAILABLE]

[COMPATIBILITY LEVEL: 95%]

Marco extended a hand toward Julian.

"I need a lunatic," Marco said directly, "I'm taking over Vinnie The Shark's territory. And I need a mad dog that bites without being told!"

Julian paused. His cigarette hung from his lips. His mischievous eyes met Marco's cold ones. He saw something there. The same darkness he possessed, but more focused. More... ambitious. And that was the one thing Julian could never have—"Alpha" energy.

Julian took Marco's outstretched hand, but instead of standing up, he pulled Marco closer until their faces were level.

"But I'm not a dog, Boss," Julian whispered, grinning widely, revealing teeth slightly yellowed by nicotine, "I'm a plague. If you keep me, you might catch the madness. Or... die!"

"Just so you know, I died yesterday," Marco replied flatly, "Okay, are you coming or am I leaving you behind?"

Julian laughed again, this time his laughter sounded genuine. He jumped to his feet, dusting off his ridiculous purple suit.

"Vinnie The Shark? If I recall correctly, that fat fish has good safety. So, I'm definitely in!"

Julian bowed theatrically, like a stage actor.

"Julian Thorne, ready to serve your chaos, My Captain!"

[RECRUITMENT SUCCESSFUL]

[NEW MEMBER: JULIAN THORNE (ROLE: ASSASSIN/CHAOS MAKER)]

[REWARD: BASIC TACTICAL SKILL UNLOCKED.]

Marco turned and stepped out of the ruined bar, "Don't call me Captain. Not yet," Marco said.

"Oh, then what should I call you?" Julian asked, strolling casually behind Marco, stepping over groaning bodies.

"Marco!"

"Okay, Marco. So, who are we going to torment next?"

Marco remained silent, not answering Julian's question. He looked up at the cloudy New York sky. Starting today, his life would never be the same...

The incident at the dock disgusted Marco with himself; after all, he was a father with a warm personality who loved his family. Not a killer. Every night Marco was restless, uneasy, and suffered from acute insomnia. He often vomited when that fateful image suddenly flashed into his mind. The guilt of hiding the truth from Maria. The paranoia when Sofia approached him. Sometimes, Marco felt he couldn't win.

But on the other hand, Marco couldn't stand still. One year of his life had been reduced due to that bloody tragedy, thanks to the near-death experience he survived yesterday. Marco decided to flip the situation. From prey to apex predator, so that the year of life he lost wouldn't be in vain. Marco exhaled deeply.

"Follow me, Julian! You're my one and only crazy 'Joker.' The journey has just begun!"

***