2025-10-01 04:11:19The city never slept, but it learned quickly when to keep quiet. Word of the butcher who carved through a squad of Serpent enforcers spread faster than wildfire. In smoky bars, in back alleys where deals were made, and in the whispered gossip of street vendors, his name traveled like a curse.
Leon. The Butcher. Some spoke of him with awe, others with dread, but all agreed on one thing: he was no longer just a shopkeeper. He was something else now, something dangerous. The Bounty Hector Ruiz didn’t wait long to act. By morning, posters bearing Leon’s face—grainy from an old ID photo—were plastered across the underground districts. WANTED: LEON “THE BUTCHER” Reward: ₦20,000,000 (Alive). ₦10,000,000 (Dead). The bounty was a declaration of war. Mercenaries, rogue killers, washed-up ex-soldiers, and desperate thugs all felt the pull of that number. A small fortune dangled in front of anyone bold enough—or foolish enough—to try their luck. Leon heard about it before the ink even dried. One of the neighborhood elders, Mrs. Okafor, knocked on his back door with trembling hands. “Leon,” she whispered, her voice sharp with fear, “they’ve put money on your head. Big money. You need to run before the whole city comes for you.” Leon took the crumpled flyer from her hands and stared at his face. The corners of his mouth twitched, but not into a smile. “Running isn’t an option,” he said quietly. “If I run, they’ll only come harder. The only way this ends is when Hector has nothing left to send.” Mrs. Okafor’s eyes watered. “You’ll get yourself killed.” “Maybe,” Leon admitted, folding the paper. “But before that happens, I’ll make sure Mateo’s spirit rests.” He closed the door gently before she could argue, leaving the elderly woman clutching her shawl in despair. The Hunters They came in waves. The first group were amateurs—street punks with more greed than brains. They cornered Leon near the river market, knives flashing in the dull glow of streetlights. They didn’t last thirty seconds. The second group were professionals—two ex-military men with rifles and scopes. They tracked him to his butcher shop, only to realize too late that Leon had already turned the place into a fortress. A tripwire here, a spike trap there, and when they stumbled inside, Leon met them with cleaver in one hand and machete in the other. By the time the sirens wailed, the two soldiers were unrecognizable. The System purred after each fight, feeding Leon more strength, more precision, more resilience. Quest Complete: Survive the Hunters (2/2). Rewards: Vitality +4, Butcher’s Frenzy (Level 3). New Skill Unlocked: Bone Breaker Strike. Leon flexed his arm, feeling the raw power humming through his veins. His body was changing. The scars of his past battles healed faster, his muscles harder, his grip steadier. He was becoming something more than human—something forged in blood. Reflection Late at night, after the fights and the blood, Leon sat alone in his kitchen. The wooden table bore knife marks from years of chopping, and the air smelled faintly of smoked meat. Yet nothing about this place felt the same anymore. He lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and stared at the wall. “Is this what you wanted, Mateo?” he muttered. “For me to drown in blood for your sake?” The System didn’t answer. It never did when he asked questions of morality. It only rewarded results. But deep down, Leon already knew the truth. This wasn’t just about Mateo anymore. It was about every time Hector’s men had taken from the poor, every time they’d corrupted the police, every time they’d crushed anyone who dared resist. The city had been bleeding long before Leon picked up his cleaver. Now, he was just the one carving the wounds open wide enough to make it scream. The Message On the third night after the bounty was declared, Leon made his own move. He tracked down one of Hector’s lieutenants, a man named Raul with a taste for gambling and cheap women. Raul was predictable, and predictability was death. Leon caught him outside a brothel in the red-light district. One moment Raul was laughing with a girl on his arm, the next he was slammed against the alley wall, Leon’s cleaver kissing his throat. “Tell Hector,” Leon growled, his eyes burning in the moonlight, “if he wants my head, he better send more than rats. Tell him every man he sends, I’ll cut down and feed to the dogs.” Raul trembled, nodding frantically, urine soaking his trousers. Leon didn’t kill him—he didn’t need to. Fear was a sharper blade. By dawn, the entire underworld knew: The Butcher wasn’t hiding. He was hunting. Hector’s Council In the heart of his villa, Hector sat surrounded by his lieutenants. The survivor’s words echoed in the room, the stench of fear heavy in the air. One lieutenant slammed his fist on the table. “Boss, we can’t let this man mock us! He’s spreading terror like wildfire.” Hector leaned back, his face calm, but his eyes glowed with simmering rage. “Good. Let him. Fear is temporary. Money is permanent.” He turned his gaze on another lieutenant. “Double the bounty. Twenty million dead. Forty alive.” The room stirred. Such a price would bring in killers from outside the city, perhaps even outside the country. Assassins, mercenaries, men who lived for nothing but the thrill of blood. “And send a message of our own,” Hector continued, his voice sharp as glass. “Burn the butcher’s shop. Strip him of his sanctuary. If he wants war, let him fight with nothing.” Closing Scene That night, as Leon returned from scouting the Serpents’ routes, smoke filled the horizon. His heart clenched, his pace quickened, and by the time he reached his street, the truth was undeniable. Flames licked the sky where his shop once stood. The butcher’s block, the hanging meats, the very place that had been his life—it was all engulfed in fire. Neighbors stood helpless at a distance, afraid to intervene, afraid of being caught in Hector’s wrath. Leon walked into the glow, his cleaver in hand, the System’s hum filling his ears. He didn’t scream. He didn’t break. He only stared at the inferno until the words formed in his mind like a vow carved in stone. “They want me to bleed?” he whispered. “Fine. I’ll drown them in it.” The System pulsed in response, cold and merciless: New Quest Unlocked: Rise from the Ashes. Destroy the Black Serpents’ Empire. And for the first time since Mateo’s death, Leon allowed himself to smile—a grim, blood-soaked smile that promised the city was about to witness a slaughter unlike anything it had ever seen.
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Ashes and Vows
The fire smoldered for hours, long after the butcher shop had collapsed into a blackened skeleton of charred beams and smoking rubble. The flames devoured everything—his chopping block, his knives, the hooks where the carcasses used to swing, even the wooden counter where Mateo once cracked jokes while serving customers.The butcher’s shop was no more.Leon stood in the ruin until dawn, his face lit by the dull orange glow of dying embers. The neighbors had retreated to their homes, fearful of being seen near him, fearful of drawing Hector’s wrath. He didn’t blame them. The Serpents thrived on fear; they had built their kingdom upon it.But as Leon stared at the ashes, he felt something shift inside him. The shop was gone, yes—but the fire had burned away more than wood. It had burned away the last remnants of the man who once thought he could live quietly, selling meat to survive.From now on, there was only the Butcher.The System flickered in his vision, its cold text sharper than
The Price of Blood
The city never slept, but it learned quickly when to keep quiet. Word of the butcher who carved through a squad of Serpent enforcers spread faster than wildfire. In smoky bars, in back alleys where deals were made, and in the whispered gossip of street vendors, his name traveled like a curse.Leon. The Butcher.Some spoke of him with awe, others with dread, but all agreed on one thing: he was no longer just a shopkeeper. He was something else now, something dangerous.The BountyHector Ruiz didn’t wait long to act. By morning, posters bearing Leon’s face—grainy from an old ID photo—were plastered across the underground districts.WANTED: LEON “THE BUTCHER” Reward: ₦20,000,000 (Alive). ₦10,000,000 (Dead).The bounty was a declaration of war. Mercenaries, rogue killers, washed-up ex-soldiers, and desperate thugs all felt the pull of that number. A small fortune dangled in front of anyone bold enough—or foolish enough—to try their luck.Leon heard about it before the ink even dried. One
A Bloody Feast
The city breathed differently at night. Its lungs were filled with smoke and the metallic tang of desperation, and in that suffocating haze, only predators thrived. Leon stood in the narrow alley behind his butcher shop, his apron folded neatly under his arm, his eyes scanning the shadows that stretched across the cracked concrete. The city was changing—and so was he.For years, Leon had been content to sell cuts of pork, beef, and lamb to the locals who could afford his quality. His shop had been his world, his pride. But since the night the gangsters had stormed in, leaving one of his boys dead and his world drenched in blood, that pride had twisted into something darker.And the System that had awakened within him… it didn’t let him rest.A small notification shimmered in the corner of his vision as if only he could see it:System Quest Complete: Eliminate the Black Serpents’ Enforcers (7/7) Reward Unlocked: Skill – Butcher’s Frenzy (Level 1).Leon’s lips curled into something that
The Wolves at the Gate
The city had grown restless.Whispers of the Butcher weren’t just rumors anymore—they were stories with names, faces, details. Hunters who never returned. Serpents who vanished in alleys. Harlow Street turning into a place no one wanted to tread after dark.And Viktor Kane had finally lost patience.The squad arrived at midnight. Not drunk Serpents this time. Not desperate bounty hunters.They were mercenaries. Six men, dressed in black combat gear, rifles slung across their shoulders. Their movements were precise, disciplined. They weren’t here for money—they were here to break the legend.Viktor called them wolves. Trained killers pulled from old contacts, the kind of men who’d fought in warzones overseas.And they had one order: bring the Butcher back breathing.Inside the Pit, Leon’s recruits sensed the shift before they heard it. The tension in the air was thicker than before, heavier than the hungry thugs or ragged hunters that had come prior.Marcus’s cigarette trembled slightl
The Price on His Head
The bounty hit the streets faster than wildfire.Fifty thousand dollars. That was the price Viktor Kane had set on the Butcher’s head.In the alleys, in smoke-filled bars, in the backrooms of pawn shops, men whispered the number with greed gleaming in their eyes. Fifty grand was enough to tempt anyone—gangsters, mercenaries, desperate loners.And for the first time, Leon wasn’t just fighting the Serpents. He was fighting the city itself.The Pit buzzed with nervous energy. The recruits trained harder than ever, sweat dripping onto cracked concrete. Darren and Cole sparred with pipes, Marcus corrected stances, and the newer men watched Leon with a mixture of awe and dread.But Marcus’s jaw was tight, his cigarette burning down too fast. “Boss, this bounty isn’t a joke. Every gun for hire is gonna come sniffing around Harlow. You can’t cut them all.”Leon sat on a battered chair, sharpening his cleaver with deliberate strokes. The sound—steel against steel—was steady, unhurried.“They’l
The Price of Loyalty
The Pit reeked of blood. The stench clung to the walls, soaked into the cracked concrete, and drifted into the street outside.Leon stood at the center, surveying the carnage from the night before. Bodies had been dragged into a corner, covered with tarps, but the metallic tang of iron still hung heavy.His men—Marcus, Darren, and Cole—looked exhausted, but alive. They’d washed the blood from their faces, though their hands still trembled from the memory of blades flashing in the dark.Marcus leaned against a pillar, lighting a cigarette to cover the smell. “Boss, we can’t just leave it like this. The Serpents will come sniffing around again. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow—but they’ll come.”Leon picked up his cleaver, turning it over in his hands. The edge gleamed even after slicing through bone. He cleaned it with a rag, slow and meticulous.“That’s the point,” Leon said. His grey eyes were steady, unblinking. “Let them come. Let them see what happens when they step onto my s
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