The streets crawled with life between the towering building blocks of Sector 48. The familiar scents of smoked cuisines and tobacco invaded my nose like an unwanted touch. The neon signs painted the sides of faces with blues and oranges.

But I wasn't here for the vendors shouting out prices for meats, for the bars that blared out electro-bass or even for the hooded dealers shifting the familiar dodgy wares tonight.

I strode down my streets for a much more pressing matter. The bystanders folded away from our group like a school of fish. No one was stupid enough to even fantasise about getting in the way of the underworld's queen.

Whispers would cling to the air around us as we made our way through the shadows.

"—ast week my brother's friend knocked into the wrong arm and he lost a finger." One voice murmured near a market stall.

"Scorpion... my god." A woman almost yelped.

"—didn't even think twice he was shot ona' spot for lookin' at them the wrong way." Another grave voice whispered.

I didn't even crack a smile under my cloak. It bored me now. The rumours circulating were all the same. Don't look her in the eye, don't make contact and at all costs avoid speaking unless spoken to. It kept them in check and insured that business could be carried out without hinderance. As you may of guessed, stealing from me and my affairs was a costly mistake.

In fact the fool that had been arrogant enough to raid one of our weapons storage facilities was about to have a charming visit from the devil herself.

We ducked into a thin alleyway as we neared our destination.

Predictably enough, there were a group of guards posing as bystanders outside the dirty establishment. But I had been in the game long enough to see through these bluffs...

Hand too close to side, indicating concealed weapon, smoking too frequently, poor attempt to appear unfazed, arms wrapped closely in front of other, more concealed blades within coat folds, unusual bump at hip... I could go on all night.

The group of four continued to smoke and chat; a poor attempt to mislead us into a sense of security. But I caught the small tightening of a hand, the tiny shift of a foot from a wall in preparation. It was all futile anyway.

My fingers snapped and they were all dead before the first man could even drop his cigarette.

Wordlessly I stepped over their corpses and adjusted the folds of my hood as I stood before the metal door. I dropped my head in a quick nod.

My men did not hesitate. They efficiently lined up thermal charges against the door bolts. No doubt the buffoon inside already knew of our arrival. I couldn't even muster up a trickle of fear in the anticipation, it was merely boredom and irritation.

The door collapsed inwards in a heavy clang and puff of dirt.

My gang flooded in with fully automatic plasma rifles. They were expensive weapons and hard to come by on the streets, but my personal guard carried only the best when I was present. The six of my guard made short work of the pathetic group hiding within the hallways of the underground den.

It was truly laughable that this squirming little ape thought he could amass my weapons and recruit my people to run some dirty rebel group without my permission.

Two of my men held him on his knees as I strode into the dimly lit room with a disgusted expression. Sweat poured down his face and his nose was already bleeding. A few guns and corpses were littered around the room and the walls were now painted with a familiar crimson.

I stood wordless as I took in the sniffling, lanky creature before me. His jet black hair reached his shoulders and was slicked with a sheen of grease that matched his hollowed out face.

"Scorpion—", he didn't get to finish that sentence as one of my men lashed out a blade as quick as death and held it to his throat.

Attempting to speak first... He truly did not know the rules of the game.

I walked towards him with a lethal calm. His breathing intensified as the seconds dragged on. Then I dropped into a crouch so I could level him with my gaze. He actually flinched into the knife just to avoid the sudden closeness.

"Ruben Jacara Marcellius." I said quietly. "You have something that belongs to me." I continued in a quiet voice.

"It was one crate! I swear by the gods, one—" He choked out a rushed excuse to my face.

My fingers snapped quickly and another guard snapped a fist into his lungs. He repeated the motion five times before I snapped them again. The sweaty animal before me had began to cough blood and drag in broken breaths.

"It is not in your best interest to lie, Ruben." I stated. "You already know you are a dead man, however, your next words will decide whether your family joins you." I murmured with lethal calm.

His eyes widened in shock. He had done admirably to conceal all traces of his wife and sons but I had eyes everywhere. There wasn't a crack in this city unaccounted for by my rule. So, instead of rushing into another lie or excuse he let out a long sigh.

"Yes. My life is forfeit, I know this." His voice shook as he watched the floor. "But if I tell you, you will ensure that my family stays safe and remain hidden?" His asks as he raises his head slowly to watch my reaction.

If I tell you? I thought with true humour this time. He was more naive than he was moronic.

"Ruben. When you tell me, I will take back what is mine and leave your family to go about their way." I stated with an emotionless expression. My face was heavily shadowed under my crimson hood, therefore he probably missed the lethal glint within my golden irises.

"Very well, Scorpion. The guns are in a lockup in Sector 40, down Karbello road. The number is 19-A and under the name Marc—"

"I need no name." I murmured as I stood once more.

"My family--they're safe now?" He pressed as I adjusted the folds of my cloak.

I looked down upon the desperate man. He only had the hope left that his family would not pay for his mistakes. But he deserved no such thing.

"Your family are already dead, Ruben." I stated as I turned away.

His agonised wail filled the room as he processed the gravity of his mistakes. It was an agony that someone with nothing left to lose created. The wordless scream was cut short by a gunshot.

I only smiled as I stepped back into the night.