Lorien left Jack downstairs and headed up alone.
The bartender had not lied—he encountered no resistance as he stepped onto the second floor.
Apparently, no one had ever considered that someone might have the audacity to kick down the Kore Brotherhood's door.
The Kore Brotherhood was a rising gang, young but ambitious.
In just six months, twin brothers Ricky and Lonnie Kore had transformed a small billiard club into a criminal empire, swallowing up rival gangs across Heverling.
What had started as simple extortion had quickly escalated into robbery, murder, kidnapping, and trafficking contraband.
A business portfolio so comprehensive that even Satan himself would have applauded.
With their growing influence, the twins had become prominent figures in London's underworld.
And as a result—
Their bounties had skyrocketed.
Ricky Kore: £1,350Lonnie Kore: £1,200
Even their lieutenants had price tags.
Which was how Oran Smith, a mid-level officer in the Kore Brotherhood, ended up on Lorien's list tonight.
His bounty?
£80.
From behind a half-closed door, the soft hum of music drifted into the hallway.
Lorien glanced at the room number.
265.
This had to be Oran Smith's room.
He didn't hesitate—
With a single kick, he slammed the door open.
BANG!
The door crashed against the wall, sending a sharp echo through the dimly lit room.
"Hmm?"
Oran jerked awake from his nap on the couch, blinking rapidly as he reached for the revolver on the table.
BANG!
A single gunshot sent the pistol flying out of reach.
Lorien strolled into the room, taking in the bald, well-dressed man before him.
His black suit was well-tailored—clearly, he had prospered under the Kore Brotherhood.
Oran stared hard at his uninvited guest.
"Who the hell are you?"
Lorien could see him processing the situation, his mind racing through possible escape routes.
He was cursing his men for being so useless—but he didn't panic.
Instead, he studied Lorien's face, confirming that he had never seen this man before.
Trying to steady himself, he spoke with forced calm.
"I don't believe we have any grievances between us, sir."
Lorien waved him off dismissively.
"Relax. You haven't done anything to offend me."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a crumpled newspaper, pointing to the bottom right corner where a grainy wanted poster was printed.
"Is this you?"
Oran's expression didn't change, but his muscles tensed.
There he was, clear as day—
Wanted: Oran Smith.A high-ranking member of the Kore Brotherhood, active in Heverling, responsible for multiple cases of murder, robbery, and child trafficking.
Bounty: £80.
Oran exhaled slowly.
"You're a bounty hunter?"
A glimmer of hope flashed in his eyes.
If this man was after money, then perhaps—
"I'll pay you double—no, five times my bounty."
His voice dropped to a whisper, almost pleading.
"Take the money and leave. No one will come after you—I'll make sure of it. We never even met."
Money solves everything, doesn't it?
That's what every criminal believes.
Lorien rolled his eyes.
"If I kill you, your money is still mine, isn't it?"
"…"
For a brief second, Oran was speechless.
The logic was airtight.
Lorien didn't give him time to think.
He turned the newspaper over and tapped the fine print beneath the bounty notice.
"See this?"
"WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE."
"Sometimes, a corpse is worth more than a living man."
Oran's face twitched.
He knew negotiation had failed—so he lunged for his gun.
BANG!
The bullet tore through his thigh, sending him crashing onto the floor.
"AARGH!"
Oran gritted his teeth, rolling sideways behind a wooden desk.
His hands fumbled desperately, searching for another weapon—
Lorien fired again.
This time—
A perfect shot to the lower spine.
Oran let out a final scream, body collapsing limply against the desk.
Blood pooled beneath him, his breath ragged and fading.
But Lorien didn't move in immediately.
He fired three more shots.
Only when he was certain Oran was dead, did he finally step forward.
As the corpse cooled, Lorien felt something stir.
A strange energy, coiling from his body toward Oran's lifeless remains.
The dead man's resentment, his lingering emotions, threatened to manifest into something unnatural—
But it was weak.
Too shallow to complete the transformation.
Lorien closed his eyes, testing his control—
Then he snuffed it out completely.
"No second chances for you."
By now, the gunfire had drawn attention.
From the next room, he could hear someone whispering into a telephone—calling for reinforcements.
Lorien didn't waste time.
He stripped the room of valuables, pocketing every last pound and shilling.
It wasn't much, but—
"Would be rude to leave without a souvenir."
Then, grabbing a burlap sack, he stuffed Oran's head inside.
And with that, he heaved the corpse over his shoulder—
And walked out the door.
The Ground Floor
By the time Lorien descended the stairs, the customers had all vanished.
Only the bartender and his assistant remained, looking uneasy.
Jack wordlessly took the corpse from Lorien, carrying it effortlessly.
The bartender exhaled shakily, staring at his former boss's lifeless body.
Internally, he thanked every god imaginable that he had made the right call earlier.
Sure, he'd lose his job—but at least he'd keep his life.
In fact, after tonight, he was seriously reconsidering his career choices.
"If anyone asks who did this," Lorien said, adjusting his hat, "tell them my name."
The bartender blinked.
"And what name should I give them, sir?"
Lorien thought for a second—
Then smirked.
"Call me 'J'—a bounty hunter… purely for fun."
The bartender hesitated.
"Was there… anything else, Mr. J?"
Lorien nodded.
"Yes, actually. I need you to make a list."
"A list?"
"Of all the gang members in this district. The ones with the biggest bounties."
The bartender gulped.
"How… how specific do you need it?"
"Start with the most expensive names."
The man nodded rapidly.
"Understood, sir. I'll have it ready."
Lorien checked the clock on the wall.
The minute hand ticked forward—
8:21 PM.
The night was still young.