Chapter 9: Yellow Liquid

"BREAKING NEWS! Bruce Sandoval, the eldest son of the Sandoval Family, has been honored with an award by the Brooklyn Nominations for his recently launched virtual game within their company…”

August's fists tightened, desperately attempting to ignore the newscaster’s words. The news reached his ears loud and clear, yet it felt muffled within his mind. 

He was the one who poured his heart and soul into crafting the proposal for the new video game, dedicating his entire life to the company. Yet, someone else reaped all the glory.

“What a fortunate man he is.”

“Rich keep getting richer, while the poor suffer more.”

It was a conversation between two customers at the restaurant where August worked as a waiter and dishwasher. 

When Bruce and Samantha tarnished his reputation, they didn’t just destroy his life, but they took everything he ever had.

August lost his job, and in the days that followed, people who had watched the live show began hurling insults, belittling him. Some even went beyond bounds, targeting him with eggs every time he crossed the street.

His landlord, despite receiving rent payments in advance, callously evicted him, claiming he brought ill fortune to the business.

"Hey, man," one of the customers beckoned him, and August promptly approached their table. "Two more drinks."

"Right away, sir," August nodded, forcing a smile before making his way to the counter to fetch the requested beverages.

"Here you go, sir," August murmured as he carefully placed the two bottles of alcohol on the table. 

The man flashed a grateful smile, and August offered a curt nod before resuming his other duties.

In this restaurant, there were only three employees—the cook, the owner, and himself.

"I encountered countless challenges with this new game. I revised, repeated, and tirelessly executed until I achieved my vision," Bruce Sandoval boasted, surrounded by a lot of reporters.

"However, I didn't achieve this alone. This success is a testament to the dedication of my employees at Sandoval Corporation, as well as my beloved girlfriend, soon-to-be my wife."

Hearing news about Bruce Sandoval was bearable, but witnessing him on television, beaming and discussing the virtual game as if it were entirely his idea, ignited a seething rage within August.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as a tidal wave of memories crashed into his mind, digging up the pain from the past.

Misfortunes plagued everyone associated with him. These individuals, burdened with their own problems, sought comfort by directing their frustrations toward him. They would vent their anger toward August on social media, or even worse, confront him face-to-face.

As someone who preferred to live a quiet, unremarkable life, this was an incredibly traumatizing ordeal for August.

He found solace only in one choice—to escape. That was why he was in a secluded rural area, where everyone’s ignorance of his identity shielded him from the same experiences he had endured in the city.

Here, people treated him not as a pathetic commoner, but as an ordinary individual, the same as everyone.

As much as he wanted to stay here for the rest of his life, he couldn’t. August made a solemn promise to himself: he would seek revenge and reclaim everything that had been taken from him. 

He vowed to make everyone feel the pain they had inflicted upon him, or perhaps even more.

"Great job, August! You are such a hardworking man, aren't you?" the elderly lady praised him, gently stroking his head with her right hand. "I never regretted bringing you to this restaurant."

"Thank you, Mrs. Johens,” August replied.

August would forever hold a special place in his heart for Mrs. Johens, who welcomed him into her restaurant without knowing anything about him.

It was the night after he had been kicked out of his house, and he found himself aimlessly boarding a bus, unsure of its destination. He ended up disembarking at a bus terminal, feeling disoriented and lost, despite already being adrift.

In the freezing cold, Mrs. Johens noticed August trembling outside and immediately offered him shelter and a job at the restaurant to help him survive. 

At that moment, August realized that there were still people who were willing to extend a helping hand without expecting anything in return.

However, this act of kindness also made him fearful of revealing his true identity. He dreaded the thought that if anyone in this area discovered the rumors surrounding him in the city, they would insult him and abandon him—an outcome he desperately wished to avoid.

"How has it been?" Mrs. Johens inquired while counting the bills in her hand. "It has been a year since you started working here. Are you happy?"

"I am," August responded without a moment's hesitation.

"Keep up the hard work," Mrs. Johens encouraged him, handing over $100 as his wage, which was lower than what he had earned at the Sandoval Corporation but sufficient for his survival.

However, if he didn't find a higher-paying job soon, the mounting debt he owed would force the authorities to track him down. Despite a year of saving, his funds were insufficient.

“The blessings will bestow upon you,” said Mrs. Johens confidently.

"I hope..." August trailed off, his voice barely audible.

"You will," Mrs. Johens assured him, her hand gently caressing his cheek. "Eventually.”

A DAY had passed, and August had taken the opportunity to jog around the area, working up a sweat before starting his job. In this place, he could do things he never could in the city, as no one here cared about him.

"This feels nice," August remarked, cracking his neck before taking a sip from the water bottle in his right hand. Despite his exhaustion, he felt a renewed energy within him.

Time seemed to fly by for August in this place, as he enjoyed what he was doing. A mediocre life would suit him, but to enact his revenge, he needed wealth and power.

He would rise to the top. He was certain about it.

As he finished the last drop of water, a sudden sensation on his back sent shivers down his spine.

Turning around, his eyes widened at the sight of a woman dressed in a black suit, wearing a cap and face mask, launching an attack from behind. 

With quick reflexes, August was able to dodge and jump backward.

“Not bad,” the woman remarked.

August's intuition proved correct—it was indeed a woman, and her voice triggered a sense of familiarity. 

He was about to inquire about her identity, and why her voice was familiar sore some reason, but his attention moved to the syringe she held in her right hand.

It contained a yellow liquid, causing him to grimace. He despised injections due to the pain they inflicted.

"What do you want from me?" August demanded, positioning into a defensive stance.

He had no weapons on him, except for the bottled water. In his year spent in this place, this was the first time he had become the target of a robber—or so he assumed.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” the woman replied in a meaningful tone.

The woman swiftly positioned herself in front of him, showing no hesitation. Just as she was about to inject the syringe into his neck, he managed to dodge again by moving to the side where the woman held the injection.

He reached for her hand to make her let go of the syringe, but his attempt was abruptly interrupted when she delivered a forceful punch to his stomach. 

The impact was so powerful that he couldn't believe it came from a woman with such small hands.  

‘Robbers... they don't look like that,’ August thought, tilting his head in confusion.

 The woman bore the characteristics of a professional assassin, with her silent movements and graceful strikes.

August scanned his surroundings, his eyes landing on two possible escape routes. One led to the waiting woman, and the other to a black van parked nearby. 

His gaze lingered on the van for a few seconds, searching for any signs of additional opponents besides the woman standing before him.

August’s intuition warned him that the people inside the van were accomplices of the woman, and he needed to proceed with extra caution. 

“In a fight, being distracted is the worst thing you would do,” the woman said.

August's body trembled with fear as the woman suddenly reappeared in front of him. Despite her slender frame, she moved with incredible speed. 

Trapped against the wall, he was defenseless as she delivered a knee strike to his groin, eliciting a growl of pain.

In that moment of vulnerability, she swiftly injected the syringe into his neck. Within seconds, August’s vision darkened, and he lost consciousness. 

Removing her cap and face mask, the woman whistled, signaling her companions inside the van to approach. They were the ones who would transport August into the vehicle.

“You’ll have no chance against me for now,” the woman stated, although she was slightly impressed by his ability to dodge her initial attack.

Pulling a phone from her pocket, she made a call to report. "We've got him."