《Grandpa Sweet Fist》Part 48- Proper Villains

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It was a reinforced steel door with numerous locks. None of which meant anything as her father punched it. The door burst open and Bradley and his men rushed into the flat. Jennifer followed her father in and was immediately struck by the colors on the walls. Pink, with rainbows and unicorns?

“What in the name of the Gap?”

Jennifer heard the question by Walker and wondered the same thing. Walker, Owl-girl and Mindpusher had come straight from the bar to a building in King’s End. The building was supposed to be abandoned, and it was. All except for one flat on the fifth floor. A raid wasn’t what any of them were thinking when her father said they need to commemorate the occasion. Now, Jennifer wondered who they were raiding.

The flat had three rooms with a small kitchen. Jennifer saw many cameras and several lighting equipment. A quick look in one of the rooms told her there was a computer there. The sole occupant of the flat was quickly pushed to the living room where her father was waiting with the other leaders. He was a heavy-set man with a beer belly that was only just covered by the T-shirt he had on. He saw Victor and obviously knew who he was.

“What’s your name?” Victor asked.

“The Sweet Fist. Sir, I want no trouble.” The man was stammering. He was afraid. Jennifer saw the pink walls in the flat and had a sinking feeling she knew why.

“Now, I hear that you are using this flat to film young girls and selling videos of them on the internet. Is that true?” Victor asked.

“I never forced them. I paid them good money for-”

“How old was the youngest girl you had ever filmed? Ten? Eleven? Maybe younger than that?” Victor ignored the man and asked. “Do you know? Did you ever ask?”

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“Fuck.” Jennifer heard someone murmured. She felt the same way. Everyone was glaring at the man who was terrified.

“I’ll leave.” It was almost a squeal. The man was crying. “You will never see me in Velocity City again. Please!”

“What is your name?” Her father asked.

“Kramer. Jeffery Kramer.”

Victor threw a punch, and the air quaked. Jennifer saw the punch hitting the man’s chest, and it caved. Her father followed through, and his fist came out the back of the man.

“I like to know the names of the people I killed.”

Her father’s whisper was a shout in the quiet room. He withdrew his fist, and air flowed through the open hole in Jeffery Kramer. He fell dead to the ground. Jennifer felt her heart beating at a rate it had never done before. Someone was vomiting. She didn’t care who it was, she only had eyes for her father. Victor Volkov. The Sweet Fist. The Mystical Martial Artist. Her father. A … murderer. He looked at peace.

Her father turned to looked at the three leaders who had just joined him and pointed to Walker and Owl-girl.

“Get rid of the body. Get to his computer and find out everything you can about this dirtbag’s operation. I want names. Who he was selling the videos to, and who was providing him with the girls? I especially want to know if they are still in Velocity City. I want names, dates -”

“What are you going to do with-?” Owl-girl stopped asking as Victor smiled. The same smile he had in the Pub of Endings, and everyone knew what he meant. Her father was not going to tolerate this kind of business in his territory. No one dared to ask what he was going to do to these people.

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“Oh, and in case none of you had figured it out yet. You were all with me when we broke in, so that means everyone here is an accessory to murder. Unless you are working for a law enforcement agency right now, just being in this flat may get you fifteen years.” Silence greeted her father's pronouncement. He opened his arms and continued. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are now all proper villains. Welcome to The Crew."

***

“Wakey-wakey. Rise and shine!”

Victor woke up, his head pounding from the hangover. He looked over and saw the empty beer bottles on the shelf beside the bed. Guess being a cultivator doesn’t give you immunity from alcohol. And that’s not even the most annoying thing about his morning.

“Reunion?”

“That’s right! Missed me?”

“No.” Victor said. Victor sat up and looked around the motel room. He had been staying in this room since he got to the city. It was good enough when he was only staying for a few days, but now he would need somewhere more permanent. Good thing property prices in the Kings was so low.

“You are talking in my mind right now. I look like a madman speaking to the air. Can you hear me telepathically?”

“Yes. Just think out loud like you are speaking.”

“Like this?”

“Yup. I hear you loud and clear.”

“Are you able to hear my thoughts while we are speaking telepathically?”

“Are we having some culture clash here? I thought hearing your thoughts is what a telepath is supposed to do!”

“No. I mean are you able to spy on me? Hear everything I am thinking, instead of just what I am trying to say to you?”

“Oh please,” Reunion huffed. “As if your thoughts are anything worth spying on. No offense Host, but you are hardly a genius.”

Victor had no choice but to accept that. “I haven’t heard from you in a few days. What happened to you?”

“It takes a lot of energy to contact you this way. Usually, distance is not a problem for Hosts and their Systems, but our connection is hardly normal”

“Thank the Gap for small mercies. I’m not sure I can take more of you. Why did you contact me anyway?”

“You completed the task, so your prize is waiting. Want it?”

“Is that a trick question?”

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