Cartel Experience-Chapter 66: Suprise.

César was right about it. They are both masters of their own fields, and even if Matteo is not the killer type of man, he can still shoot like a motherfucker because of his competitive shooter background, and exactly that is what played out.

He opened the door and immediately heard the rap music playing, and his nose was instantly hit by the smell of weed and alcohol and without even really thinking about it, he moved straight forward into the hallway and turned to the right, where the living room was, and there they were.

Four men and two women, some of them dancing, drinking liquor and smoking weed while listening to the music and with one look at them, it was obvious that they were gang members, just like the man outside whom Arlo killed. The same clothes, that gang member type, when you look at somebody and immediately recognize them as a target, as street trash. Moreover, the chain on them, the red scarf as the sign of their activity and who they belonged to.

Though now they belonged to Matteo and his judgment, and this time he was not really hesitating.

He did not make himself known, he did not shout, he did not even think about who to aim at or who to shoot. No. He just aimed at whoever he found the most threatening, which was one of the guys who immediately noticed him, a gun tucked into his jeans, and he shot.

He pulled the trigger and the bullet went straight through the man’s head and did not stop. He did not want them to react or understand what was happening, he aimed at another one, pulled the trigger again, hitting one of the women in the heart area, then again and again.

All of it happened in less than five seconds, five seconds in which six lives ended before they even truly understood what was happening, before their minds could switch to survival. No, they never had a real chance to fight back, because Matteo’s aim and precision were on a different level, because he shot with calm calculation, with the same focus he once had in competitions, where white metal targets stood in neat rows waiting to be hit.

To him, in that moment, they were no different.

Just shapes and targets. Obstacles that needed to fall, as if he had simply finished another round at the range instead of ending six lives in a matter of seconds, and for a brief moment it truly felt like that, like another exercise completed with perfect accuracy, but then he heard it. Shaky breaths mixed with a weak cry coming from behind the couch and when he reached the couch and looked down, he saw her.

One of the women had fallen backward when she was shot, her body partially shielded by the furniture, her fingers trembling as they clutched at her neck where the thick gold chain had snapped under the impact. She had not died instantly as the bullet had struck the thick chain first, the links absorbing part of the force before breaking apart, slowing the round just enough that instead of tearing clean through her throat it had deflected and lodged near her collarbone.

"Pl... please... I... I have a child." Her voice was fragile but it was not a defense of her actions, not a denial of what she was, but a plea for mercy, like if those words could change something, as if being a mother could erase the red scarf that marked her loyalty and affiliation, the choices that had placed her in this room among armed men and illegal deals.

But no, Matteo looked down at her without sympathy.

In his world, everyone had something they wanted to protect, someone waiting at home, some excuse that sounded meaningful when spoken out loud, but none of it had ever stopped a bullet.

He did not see a mother in front of him. "That’s bad... but I don’t give a fuck."

Her fingers twitched as if she wanted to reach for him or maybe shield herself as Matteo pointed the gun at her head... maybe she tried to hold onto a hope that had never truly existed.

Yeah, there was no hope nor mercy. Matteo pulled the trigger and the bullet struck her forehead, ending it instantly, and immediately after that something so strange and absurd happened.

From behind his back he heard three shots ring out, and he saw a bullet hit the wall in front of him, pieces of plaster breaking apart and dust falling to the floor. As he immediately turned around, he saw another man standing there with a rusty ass ’90s revolver in his hand, which was bad enough, but on top of that the man’s hands were shaking like shit, his aim uncontrolled as he pulled the trigger again and again, hitting everything around Matteo, the walls, the ceiling, even the television screen, but somehow missing the one target that was a few meters in front of him.

Though at least Matteo wasn’t shot, nor scared, he just stood there stunned, like what the fuck, and then just raised his gun and pulled the trigger, but instead of a shot, a loud click rang out as the pistol jammed in his hand.

For a brief second they just both stared at each other, like a fucking cartoon scene. One of them had a rusty ass revolver that had no bullets, while the other one’s gun had jammed, and both of them knew it would come down to hand to hand combat.

And well, the gang member immediately dropped his revolver and pulled out a switchblade, while Matteo just stood there, because he knew that he wasn’t alone... and yeah, the wise man, the scholar and teacher of pain, Arlo, jumped out from the side and swung the bolt cutter, hitting the side of the gang member’s head, who immediately fell to the ground, and surprisingly Arlo didn’t start to butcher him right then and there, he just stood up and looked at Matteo.

"You killed them all!" He shouted, and he was clearly angry.

"Yeah, I did." Matteo answered as he cleared his gun from the jam. "I needed to act as fast as possible."

It was all written on Arlo’s face what he thought about it, he didn’t even need to say a word, it was just visible that he wanted to have some fun with them, but now there was no room for fun... or so he thought, because the dude he had knocked down with the bolt cutter suddenly started making noise on the ground and shit and oh boy Arlo looked at him like a child looking at a toy.

"Let’s—"

"First let’s clear the house." Matteo’s voice came. "Before having fun we need to make sure it’s clean, so grab one of those guns and let’s go up and then to the basement."

"Good idea." Arlo answered as he smiled and grabbed one of the guns, and both of them went upstairs to look around, but there was nothing really.

The whole house was trashed and half destroyed, with pictures of Clara and Daisy thrown on the floor, their clothes and so on, but when they left the upstairs and went down, there was something that kind of shocked them.

"Woah... is that what I think it is?" Arlo’s voice came as he looked in front of him.

"Jackpot, huh?" Matteo smiled as he stepped to one of the packs and cut it open with the knife he grabbed from the gang member upstairs, and as he cut into it and tested the white powder, that smile spread even more on his face. "Éden."

Yeah in front of them was a fucking palet of Éden.

"One kilo per brick?" Arlo asked, tasting it too and surprisingly it tasted pure.

"There’s 10 packs in a column, so..." He looked at the pallet and counted. "This is fifty kilos of Éden." He didn’t even believe it himself, like he expected to find drugs maybe a kilo or so but not fucking fifty kilo of Éden in the basment of fucking street gansgers. It was absolutely shocking.

"So how much is it worth?"

"Here in the capital, we can sell it..." He glanced at Arlo. "At whatever price we want... but the taste of it."

"It’s pure." Arlo said as he spit on the ground.

"There is no way they make pure Éden in the city."

"That’s why it is good that he is still alive." Arlo smiled as I pointed up. "I’m going to ask some questions."

Well, for the first time, Matteo actually agreed as there was no fucking way in his head that a gang on this level had built up a whole infrastructure and production line in the city for Éden... for pure Éden, there was no fucking way.

Though at least now, Arlo came into the picture not just torturing people for fun, but for fun and with purpose, because they needed to know what the fuck this was.