History's Strongest Prisoner

Enemies All Around

The popular tunes from the night crickets and the low rustling leaves were the only sounds that resounded in Bain's ear.

One boy with a sharp stone in his grasp, stared at the many circling him. 'I'm almost at my wit's end.'

Bain quickly caught himself from falling, looking at the person the rest referred to as Boss.

The gang of miscreants wore boots, baggy pants, and different styled tops. Some wore tank tops, others wore light jackets, some stuck to tee-shirts, and others went shirtless.

He stared at them in scrutiny, realizing that no one was pointing a weapon at him. This was an important hint!

'It's either they deem me so worthless that they don't bother raising their pistols at me… Or they need to capture me intact.'

Come to think of it, why did they chase after him so much when he never offended them? In any case, he felt his thinking was smart.

'I'm valuable.'

Bain concluded, finding leverage over the situation. And the one they called boss, slowly lit a cigarette amidst the tense atmosphere.

"Boy, look at you now. From your growling belly, I'd say you're far beyond hungry, tired, and weak… Face it, kid. This is the end of the line.' The leader spoke out slowly, gesturing for Bain to look at the men around him. And these men in turn showed their most provocative smiles, trying to intimidate him the best way they could.

"There's no way out. So…It's in your best interest that you drop the stone nice and slow… You don't want to piss us off any further."

Don't want to?

Bain would never believe it!

"Make any subtle movements, and I'll not only break myself but also take one of you down."

Bain's threat, as well as his actions of tightening his grip on the sharp stone, made many freeze.

Hold on… the boy… He's wearing military pants.

Recalling the traps he laid out for them, they wondered if he was some highly skilled military personnel who did something bad and got sent down here.

They didn't know whether his true age was 16 or even 30.

Who knows… maybe the kid is bluffing. But, with his little strength and that stone in his hand, who can guarantee that it'll be enough to kill one of them?

.

The Boss let out a whiff of smoke, contemplating their situation.

Sacrifice one of his men to test things out or injure the product and collect half the money.

'This week has been a real shit f***!' the boss inwardly growled.

They lost many members during the last shoot-out with another rival gang over some cargo.

This product before him could fetch them a good price to get more artillery and members.

On the flip side, with his gang's present state, they couldn't afford to lose any more members... Even if it's a single person!

So that leaves him with no other option. Greed was good, but realizing and cutting one's losses was already a good thing.

"Boss!"

Everyone felt touched, seeing their boss raise his pistol. (^0^)

The boss had chosen them instead of the product. After all, even if they injure the product, they'll be getting half the payment which is better than nothing, provided they don't overdo the injuries. So it wasn't a complete loss.

Bain looked at the pistol, feeling his feet a thousand times heavier than before.

Had he miscalculated?

"Kid, since you want to die so much, then why don't I help you out a bit?"

Irrespective of his real age, they still called him 'kid,' even if he might be a middle-aged man. In the end, he was still a newbie to the Mainland.

With a cool smile, he repositioned his pistol from Bain's left thigh to his head. And at this moment, time seemed to have frozen in place, giving Bain the illusion that he could see straight into the pistol.

But he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.

'Sorry, brother, mother... I've let you down… I'm still too weak!'

Boom!

The thunderous gunshot sounds echoed out, causing Bain to tighten his eyes.

Heart thumping, mouth clamping, belly knotted, and pulse roaring in his throat thumping… Bain was ready to use 'it.'

But before he could react, someone exclaimed loudly.

"Boss!!!!"

Bain stared at the scene with open eyes. Even the boss was in disbelief, feeling a cold object penetrate his skull.

Who would've thought tonight would be his last on the Mainland?

.

"Boss!"

Everyone turned into statues, forgetting about the product they had planned to take. How could they still focus on him?

"Everyone—"

~Bang. Bang. Bang!

One by one, they dropped to the floor like flies. The shooter didn't even give them a moment to blink or reach for their weapons before taking the kill.

Where?... Where was he?

The fatty looked left, looked right, looked up, and all-around, shivering in horror at the superior marksmanship the hidden enemy displayed.

"No... I don't want to die... I... Run!"

The fatty flared his chubby hands in the air, moving as fast as his body could permit. And as he ran, his porky belly jiggled, and his top rose to his neck.

'Boss, boss, though you're gone, you'll understand my decision for not avenging you, right?'

~Bang!

Bain watched the fatty freeze before falling to his knees, dying with his head to the floor and his butt to the sky. He had no time to feel pity for the fatty's unfortunate death position, seeing his own body fall to the ground too.

Tired. Hungry…

His eyes lids were about to give way, but his mind kept refusing, asking the same questions on replay.

Who was it? Who was it that helped him out?

He struggled to keep his heavy eyelids open, only to see a blurry image of a 47-year-old looking man with silver shoulder-length hair, glasses on his face, and a thin but stylish silver mustache above his lips.

The man had a cigarette in his mouth, and a farming hoe hung over his right shoulder…

A farmer?

…