Chapter 23 – The Bounty Declared
The night air over Liberty City had never felt so heavy, so suffocating. Sirens wailed in the distance, their echo bouncing off the steel and glass canyons of the urban landscape. Shadows moved unnaturally along the rooftops, the wind carrying a chill that seemed almost sentient. Somewhere in the heart of the city, two figures perched atop a crumbling ledge, watching the streets below with tired, wary eyes.
John Stellman held Jack in a tight, protective grip. His brother's arm had been severed, his body trembling with shock and pain, but his gaze was defiant, unreadable. John's own body ached from exhaustion, yet he couldn't rest. Not while H.I.M was still out there, a shadow of vengeance stalking every corner of the city.
They had reached safety, a dilapidated apartment block far from the chaos, but safety was an illusion. The truth had settled like a weight upon John's chest. Slowly, he turned his piercing gaze on Jack.
"It was you," John said quietly, voice low but edged with disbelief. "All this time… it was you who killed them. H.I.M's family… your hands… were the ones that stained their lives with blood."
Jack flinched, but there was no remorse in his expression. Only cold calculation, a mixture of duty and obsession that had driven him down a path neither of them could have imagined.
"Appointed by Grimson," John continued, his words heavy with the gravity of betrayal. "You were tasked with eliminating him, weren't you? The special agent. The one everyone feared… the one we should have protected. You were the weapon, Jack. And you fired it."
Jack's lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't defend himself. He didn't justify the bloodshed. He simply stared ahead, as if the city itself had carved a mark on his soul, as if the shadows had claimed a piece of him already.
"You realize he will come for you," John said, voice trembling with frustration. "H.I.M… he won't stop. He doesn't forgive. He doesn't forget. Every move you've made tonight… every lie, every step—he knows. He will hunt you until there's nothing left."
Jack's eyes flickered briefly, the first hint of fear crossing his otherwise composed demeanor. But it was fleeting. The darkness that clung to him, the years of training, the pact with secrets long buried—it kept him rigid, unyielding.
"I don't care," Jack muttered, voice low and almost defiant. "If he comes… then I'll meet him."
John shook his head in silent disappointment, the weight of his twin brother's recklessness pressing down on him like the steel of the city itself. He wanted to scream, to shake some sense into the man he had grown up with, the man who had once been family. But John knew better. Words would not reach him. Only action could, and H.I.M would ensure that action came soon enough.
Miles away, in the opulent heart of Kingsberg, the president sat behind a desk cluttered with intelligence reports and surveillance data. The air in the room was thick with tension, the soft hum of the city outside contrasting sharply with the storm of fury inside. He had just been informed of Jack Stellman's failure—the failure to eliminate H.I.M.
The president slammed his fist on the mahogany desk, the sound resonating through the high-ceilinged room. "Impossible," he muttered. "How could a man so… untouchable, still walk free?"
An aide, pale and trembling, stepped forward. "Sir… he is still alive. Jack's mission failed. The special agent… H.I.M… he is moving through the city. Witnesses report shadows, unexplained deaths… the streets are terrorized."
The president leaned back, eyes narrowing into slits. His jaw clenched, and the room fell into silence, save for the distant hum of the city. A plan formed in his mind—a declaration that would send shockwaves through every corner of Liberty City and beyond.
He rose to his feet, voice ringing out with authority and raw, unfiltered rage. "Enough!" he roared. "If he cannot be captured… if he cannot be controlled… then let the world hunt him! Issue a bounty on H.I.M's head. Every law enforcement agency, every mercenary, every criminal organization—everyone will know that the man who made a pact with the devil himself is to be eliminated at any cost. Liberty City will burn, and the man responsible… will die!"
Outside, the city seemed to pulse with newfound urgency. News spread faster than wildfire. Screens in Times Square, digital billboards, and even underground networks broadcasted the president's decree: H.I.M: Dead or Alive. Reward: Unlimited. Criminals whispered his name in fear. Police scanners crackled with tension. Mercenaries adjusted their weapons. Every corner of Liberty City became a hunting ground.
Back in the apartment, John stared at Jack, the magnitude of the president's declaration finally sinking in. "Do you understand what this means?" he asked, voice hollow. "The world is now against him… against all of us. Every move he makes… every step he takes… people will try to kill him. And he will kill them first."
Jack remained silent, gripping the edge of the couch, his mind already calculating, already anticipating the coming storm. The shadows that clung to H.I.M would now stretch across every alley, every rooftop, every heartbeat of the city. The pact with the devil had made him untouchable, unstoppable—but it also meant the world would come for him with everything it had.
John exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the darkened skyline. The city lights flickered like a thousand dying stars, each one a reminder of the fragile balance between life and death, order and chaos. "We're running out of time," he muttered. "He's already planning his next move… and we're just… here."
Jack finally looked up, the faintest shadow of a smirk brushing his lips. "Then we'll just have to make sure he doesn't find us too easily," he said, though there was no certainty in his tone. It was a survival instinct, honed through years of betrayal, loss, and shadowed training.
High above, in the darkness that now blanketed Liberty City, H.I.M watched. His eyes glowed faintly with the unearthly light of a man who had transcended mortal fear. He had seen the president's declaration ripple through the streets, the news spreading like wildfire, and a slow, almost imperceptible smile formed on his lips.
Let the world come for him, he thought. Let them come.
H.I.M stepped onto the edge of a skyscraper, the wind tugging at his cloak as he looked down upon the city below. Each light was a heartbeat, each shadow a pulse of life and fear. The pact had made him more than human. It had made him inevitable.
And as the city below stirred with panic, the bounty declared, and Jack and John struggled to comprehend the storm approaching, H.I.M's voice echoed in the wind, cold and unrelenting:
"I am coming… and no one… will survive my path."
The night had grown darker, the hunt had begun, and Liberty City would never be the same.
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