From Nothing To The Name They Fear

Chp 8: He…He's truly alive?

VROOOOMMMM!!!

On the highway.

The car shot forward like a fired bullet as Jason smashed his foot down on the accelerator.

As the Ferrari was switched to sport mode, the engine roared like a furious beast, matching the storm of confusion racing in his head.

Seeing his reckless driving, other drivers, terrified of colliding with him, quickly slowed down and moved to the other lane.

“What the hell kind of messed-up shit is this?” Jason barked out inside his car, his eyes boiling with anger.

He could hear curses shouted at him by other drivers, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. His mind was laser-focused on reaching his destination.

“None of this makes any damn sense right now. Absolutely nothing. Last night everything went well as planned. Then boom— Today everything is turning into pure nonsense.”

“I swear, this better be some stupid mix-up somewhere, cause if…” He let out, with a deadly smile appearing on his face. “If this turns out to be that gang's stupid mistake…”

He angrily slammed his fists against the steering wheel.

“No, no. They better be ready to face me head-on. Cause I'm not going to take it easy on them when this turns out to be true.”

He yanked the steering wheel to the right, turning sharply into a narrow street as sunlight flashed across his face through the windshield.

Dust rose into the air as he sped down the street, people turning in awe at the sight of such a rare, expensive red car.

“Bro, who’s the person driving that stunning ride?” a young boy asked his friend as they walked side by side.

“Whoever he is, there’s no way he’s not swimming in wealth. Just take a good look at that car, that’s not something any random rich guy can afford.”

“What is such a rich dude doing in a place like this? The wealthy don’t even come near here.”

A few minutes later, reaching the outskirts of the street with few houses, the car came to a halt in front of an old bungalow.

Jason’s eyes were on the building in front of him, containing a look of contempt in those brown eyes of his.

“I hate coming to this damned place. With all those billions you had in your time, you still chose to live in some remote hellhole that reeks of poverty. All because you wanted a quiet and peaceful life with your wife and kid my ass.”

He said this as he finally stepped out of the car.

Cough. Cough.

“I just hope I don’t get sick breathing this filthy air around.”

As he walked toward the house, his eyes carefully scanned every corner.

“This place still looks like no one’s been here for ages,” he murmured with faint curiosity.

However, just as he moved closer, he suddenly heard a sound coming from the side of the building.

“Who is that?” His brow twitched slightly. “Or is that him?”

And behold.

𝙏𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙠! 𝙏𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙠! 𝙏𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙠!

There was Drakon at the side of the bungalow with sweat flowing down his face as he hit away with the hammer on the wood.

He was clearly doing his best to put the building back in order. Earlier, while inspecting the house, he had managed to find a hammer, nails and several other useful tools inside the storage room.

For over an hour, he had been working non-stop, determined to ensure the old bungalow was at least in a much better condition.

The inside which had once been completely covered in dust was now sparkling clean, a real testament to his hard work.

And now, he had moved to the exterior, trying to fix the wooden parts that had already weakened and were close to falling apart.

He…He's truly alive?

A chill ran down his spine as the truth in front of him sank in.

Jason stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what his eyes were seeing. The man whose bloodied body he had received photos of just yesterday now stood before him in the flesh, alive, breathing, and real.

‘Those bastards didn't do their job. They deceived me. FUCK THOSE FOOLS,’ he screamed in his head.

“What are you doing here?!”

An angry voice spoke out to him.

Drakon climbed down the short ladder, his hands still gripping the hammer tightly. Sweat ran down his jaw as his piercing eyes locked onto Jason.

“I'm asking you. What are you doing here?” Drakon asked again, moving close to Jason.

Jason didn’t budge.

He stood his ground, staring back with sheer arrogance as if the man before him was nothing more than filth under his shoes.

“I think I should be the one asking you that question,” He scoffed coldly.

“You are supposed to be dead, Drakon,” Jason let out boldly, not bothering to hide the mocking expression on his face. “So how come you are still standing here, perfectly well?”

The words landed like a slap.

In an instant, the expression on Drakon’s face changed dramatically as he gritted his teeth, struggling not to let his anger take over.

“Get the hell out of this place, Jason!”

Drakon's thunderous voice shook the air, his eyes turning dangerously cold.

Jason, his cousin didn't flinch. He stood there calmly, hands tucked into his pockets with a lazy smile carved across his face.

“Well, there it is,” Jason drawled. “The voice of a failure himself.”

“You must miss your beloved parents terribly…”

“And don’t you dare speak about my parents with that unholy mouth of yours,” Drakon snapped, cutting him off. The longer he stared at Jason, the more the rage manifested inside him.

“Ahaha!”

Jason burst out laughing.

“Why don’t you just end yourself already?” he continued casually, as if offering friendly advice. “I know how you feel as the worthless soul you are and I’m damn sure your papa and mama must be dying to see you wherever they are. Go join them.”

His eyes gleamed with malice. “What a lovely family reunion that would be.”

Whooomph!

The sound of something heavy rang through the air.

“Fuck you motherfucker—!”

All hell broke loose as Drakon sprinted forward in anger at him.