Diego led them through a door. It opened to a private casino, but the place was practically empty, except for the guards and one table where a man with blood-red hair sat: the dreadful Marxon.
"Finally, I get to meet the man of the hour, the rising star himself, Don Angel," Marxon said joyfully, wearing a very unnerving grin with an unbuttoned black shirt.
"No need to flatter me like that," Don Angel chuckled.
"How can I not, seeing how bravely you walked in here accompanied by only one man. One of you must probably be Superman," he chuckled.
Vincent swallowed hard. 'I honestly pray he is at this point'
"Have a seat," Marxon invited.
Don Angel sat on the other side of the table, while Vincent chose to remain standing behind him—just like Diego was standing behind Marxon.
"But I'm really curious… why did you come here?"
"Why else? Because I was invited to an Association meeting. But seeing that I'm the only one here, I have a feeling the other members won't be attending."
Marxon laughed loudly. "You're a funny man. I'm sure you knew that before you came here—so why don't you tell me why you're actually here?"
"I'm not joking. I only just joined the Association, so I'm not too familiar with all your rules. If I knew the meetings were optional, I definitely wouldn't have shown up. Maybe I should be taking my leave."
Before Don Angel could fully get up, Marxon said firmly, "Sit the fuck back."
He grabbed the large fire-service axe that was sitting on the table.
Understanding the threat, Don Angel obeyed. "I'll be honest. I did hear rumors you were coming after me, but I figured it was all just talk—since I'm also a member of the Association."
"And is that supposed to mean something to me?" Marxon asked.
"Of course. You know one of the rules of the Association is that there's no in-fighting. The other gangs certainly wouldn't like that."
Marxon shook his head and scoffed. "I thought you were smarter than this. Do you really think the Association gives a fuck about you?
"Why do you think they're not here right now? Do you really think they'd go against the Triad for you? The only reason the Association exists is because I let it.
"I use it to keep an eye on little rats like you—rats that think they can steal directly from the table instead of waiting for whatever scraps fall to the floor."
Don Angel's brows dipped and his fist clenched. He clearly didn't appreciate being called a rat, but he swallowed it down.
"The truth, Marxon, is that I came here because I'm a businessman before anything else. I want to avoid anything that could disturb my business. So I came to see if there's a way we can solve this without violence."
Marxon sighed. "I understand. I'm also a businessman. But I can't let you walk after hearing you stole from the Triad. Someone has to pay for that."
"Like you said—business should avoid inconveniences. And taking out a flimsy gang like yours would hardly be an inconvenience to me.
"Do you have any evidence I stole from you?" Don Angel asked.
"Evidence? What do I look like, the fucking police? Why would I need evidence when we both know you did it? And if it later turns out you weren't the culprit, then whoever did it will strike again—although you'll be dead by then, so it won't matter to you."
Don Angel chuckled.
"That's twisted… but effective logic," he admitted with a hint of admiration. "So there's no other way?"
This time Diego Kang answered. "I already told you—you're not making it out of this place alive."
Don Angel exhaled. "Fine. If that's your decision, then so be it."
He pulled out his phone and made a call. "Is it done?"
After a short pause, he said, "Good…" and hung up.
Almost immediately, Marxon's phone rang.
"I think you should answer that," Don Angel said with a mischievous tone.
Marxon picked up. "What the hell did yo—"
He froze when he heard the voice on the other end.
"Son," the Triad master's voice was calm as usual, but Marxon could tell something was terribly wrong.
"Father, what's wrong?"
"Let him go. They have a knife to my throat."
Marxon's eyes widened as the words hit him like a sledgehammer.
"How did they get to you?!" he slammed his hand on the desk, jumping to his feet.
"I don't kno—" his father's voice was cut short by another.
"We haven't touched a single hair on his head," Jay said. "So I expect our boss to leave that place in the same condition." Then he hung up.
The phone in Marxon's hand was crushed to pieces by his sheer grip alone. His eyes turned blood-red as veins bulged across his face. His teeth clenched so hard the sound was almost audible. He wasn't just angry, he was furious.
"You bastard!" he growled. "How did you—?"
"How did I what?" Don Angel asked with his usual smug smile. "Get my hands on the most protected man in all of K-City? Honestly, the hardest part was finding his location.
"Everything else was handled by my men. Don't blame your guys who were guarding your father—the men I sent were the best of the best. I'm sure they tried their hardest. It's just not possible to stop those guys. Even I'm scared of them sometim—"
Marxon swung his axe, stopping inches from Don Angel's face. But he didn't move an inch, not even blinking.
"Call them off. Now," he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
"We both know I can't do that," Don Angel said with a calm, confident smile.