"What—what the hell is going on here? How did this happen?!" The guy named Zika screamed at the top of his lungs, he seemed to be in a dream, a very bad one, and doesn't know how to wake up.
"This..!!"
No one answered him directly, yet every face around him turned grim and tight; the whole circle slipped into fighting stances, and a few even shuffled two cautious steps back.
All eyes locked on Caesar, waiting—almost begging—for an explanation of what had happened. He didn't move an inch; the only visible change was that the smile on his face grew a little wider and a touch clearer.
He swept his gaze around and mocked them, "What a professional assassination team you are. My brothers stretch their legs for a moment and you're already spooked? Pull yourselves together! Believe me… the time to be afraid hasn't even started yet."
"You… you…! Explain what just happened!" Another squad leader yanked out his weapon and leveled it straight at Caesar's chest.
