Mildo woke up in the dark room, alone, feeling a fire of pain in every part of his body. Every movement felt like a new wound.
The ringing returned in his left ear, that sharp sound filling his head.
He raised his hand to it and saw blood flowing from within.
He sighed painfully, as if all the strength in his body had been drained, his eyes wet with tears. He whispered hoarsely to himself:
"I'm tired of all this… I want to go back…"
He lifted his hand to touch his ear again, murmuring softly:
"My ear… I can't hear with it anymore…"
He leaned against the wall, body trembling from pain and shock, laughing bitterly at himself, a laugh mixed with astonishment and fear:
"I've lost it… too…"
Two days passed without food or water. He sat on the floor, his body exhausted and spirit weary. He began carving into the walls with a small stone, each line like a silent scream sent out to the world.
Then he noticed something in the corner of the room, something strange hiding there. He approached cautiously, reached out, and picked it up.
"A tattered mask…" Mildo whispered softly, the words almost fading in the quiet room.
He felt the mask between his fingers, cold and rough, as if its texture carried the echo of its previous owner's pain. He turned the mask carefully, eyes examining the simple engraving on it: "M."
Mildo gently wiped the mask and tried to lift it toward his face, but the burn marks on his skin made him pull back, the pain piercing through him suddenly.
He leaned against the wall again, holding the mask in his hands, eyes calmly studying every detail, as if something in it called forth both curiosity and fear.
Suddenly, a sharp headache hammered at his head, like war drums striking within him, and the high-pitched ringing in his left ear grew even more unbearable, filling his head with unwanted sounds.
Mildo groaned softly:
"My head… it hurts."
He momentarily drifted away from awareness, letting his body sink into the pain without resistance.
The headache and ringing consumed his mind entirely; every image, every sound, every sensation became distorted, as if the world had vanished around him.
Then Mildo began to hear a faint whisper in his ear:
"Andrei…"
He turned quickly but saw no one. The whisper repeated, this time from all directions, filling his head and making him feel as though he was losing his mind.
Madness seized him, his heart pounding violently, eyes searching the darkness for the source, but the room was silent, empty, except for the persistent whisper of the name.
Suddenly, a vague memory appeared before his mind: a person he didn't recognize clearly, extending a hand to give him a necklace.
Instinctively, Mildo clutched his chest, finding the necklace hanging around his neck, cold against his skin.
"That's enough!" Mildo shouted, his voice mixed with anger and pain, the air vibrating around him from the intensity of his voice.
Suddenly, a figure appeared beside him, standing in the shadows as if part of the room itself.
"Do you think your calm will save you from here?" the figure said in a quiet but threatening voice.
Mildo turned toward him, eyes flashing with anger and fear:
"Who are you, and how did you get in?"
The mysterious person smiled coldly, his features betraying no real emotion:
"I am no one. You can call me whatever you like. Also, you brought me here yourself."
"What nonsense are you spouting?! Stop messing with me!" Mildo shouted, his voice blending pain and rage, eyes cautiously scanning the figure.
The person smiled calmly, his voice quiet yet loaded with threat:
"Unfortunately, I am not messing around. And also, now is not the time to discuss how I appeared here. You need to think about how to escape this hell."
"No… there's no escape… I'll never get out… they're monsters…" Mildo muttered, voice choking with fear and despair, body still trembling from pain and shock.
The mysterious person smiled coldly, voice carrying a strange confidence:
"No… there is an escape. You're different, strong, and smart. First, gain their trust, then seize your chance."
"Why should I trust you?" Mildo asked, voice broken, eyes shining with suspicion and fear, body still exhausted.
The stranger smiled quietly, voice full of confidence:
"Because I am the only one who will not betray you."
Mildo sat on the floor, clutching the necklace, staring at it blankly, voice hoarse and trembling:
"I… wait a moment… why… why don't I remember who I am?"
He looked at the stranger, eyes searching for any sign, any answer.
"I… I don't know who I am," Mildo whispered, trying to collect himself from the fog.
The stranger stepped closer, voice calm but firm:
"That's normal. They beat you on the head without pause. But that doesn't stop you from achieving your goal."
"It… isn't simple…" Mildo said, voice broken, eyes still shining with confusion and pain.
The stranger smiled mysteriously, voice calm but compelling:
"No, it's simple. You can become the person you want to be, a completely new person. Stand up again, take your freedom, find yourself."
Mildo remained quiet for minutes, voice broken, breathing slowing, while the stranger watched silently.
He held the mask in his trembling hands, looking at the engraved letter "M."
He whispered to himself, quiet but firm:
"M… Mildo… I will become Mildo."
The stranger smiled, voice calm and mysterious:
"I like that, Mildo."
Mildo raised his head, eyes shining with determination, and said firmly:
"Now, won't you tell me your truth?"
The stranger shrugged lightly, voice tinged with secrecy:
"Even I don't know my truth. Call me whatever you want."
Mildo smiled faintly and replied, as if finding new strength in this resemblance:
"So, you're lost like me. I'll call you Luca."
"Luca… I like that," Luca said with a small smile, moving with strange excitement.
Suddenly, the metallic sound of a heavy lock interrupted the moment. The door turned.
Mildo froze, eyes wide, then quickly turned to Luca.
"Hide, quickly, before they see you!" he whispered urgently.
Luca glanced around the empty room, eyes moving anxiously, then smiled with a sad irony:
"No escape, nowhere to hide."
Mildo's heartbeat quickened as he stared at the door, the creak filling the room as it slowly opened. Henry appeared, steps calm, face expressionless.
He stood at the entrance, eyes scanning the room with focus, then said quietly:
"Come on, I've taken care of getting you out."
Mildo stared at Henry, tension and doubt creeping in:
"Doesn't he see? Doesn't he see Luca?"
He glanced at Luca, who raised his hands in denial, as if saying, "Even I don't know why?"
Henry noticed the mask in Mildo's hand. His eyes widened slightly with rare curiosity but he didn't speak, simply watching every movement.
Henry approached, gently holding Mildo's face, eyes studying the burn Dante left, then moving down to other wounds, pausing at the bleeding ear. His voice low but serious:
"Enzo did this?"
Mildo remained silent, eyes lost in a cold void, without a spark.
He said nothing, simply staring directly at Henry, as if words had no way out.
Henry sighed and slowly withdrew his hand:
"Alright… let's go."
Their steps were heavy as they left the room. Behind them, Luca followed silently, like a shadow.
They walked down the long corridor until stopping in front of Room Seven.
Mildo's gaze was drawn to it involuntarily, freezing in place, staring at the door as if something inside called him.
He slowly lifted his hand to touch the cold wood, and Henry's voice came low, with an unfamiliar tone of sorrow:
"I'm sorry, for what happened to them."
Mildo turned quickly, surprise etched on his face.
"Sorry? Henry… apologizing?"
Henry looked at him, seeing that strange coldness in his eyes, the bloodthirsty gaze, and said calmly:
"Let's continue our path."
They entered a room Mildo had never seen before; warm and comfortable.
Henry spoke calmly:
"This is my room, go in. No one will hurt you here."
Mildo hesitated at the threshold, looking at Henry, then inside. The room was different: walls clad in warm dark wood, soft yellow light killing the shadows of the previous room. On the small table by the bed, a book lay open, a half-full cup beside it, as if Henry lived a life separate from their brutal world.
Mildo stepped slowly inside, eyes roaming cautiously.
Henry sat in a chair near the table, eyes fixed on Mildo:
"Sit here."
Mildo approached hesitantly and sat on the opposite chair.
Henry brought a plate and a glass of water, placing them in front of him.
Mildo spoke cautiously, eyes narrowing suspiciously:
"Why should I trust you? It could be poisoned."
Henry took a bite of the food in front of him, then drank from the glass calmly, before placing it back:
"Now, eat."
Mildo stared at the food, fingers trembling as he reached for the fork, then began eating ravenously.
Henry watched silently, a faint smile forming as he observed Mildo devour the food.
After finishing, Mildo wiped his mouth with a trembling hand, then suddenly glanced at Luca, sitting on the armrest of the chair, a strange smile on his face, eyes narrowed cunningly, as if enjoying the scene.
Mildo raised his hand toward him in confusion:
"Don't you see him sitting there?!"
Henry slowly turned toward the empty chair, eyes scanning carefully, then back to Mildo:
"Who?"
Mildo froze, eyes shifting between Henry and Luca.
Luca tilted his head, smiling ironically:
"I guess you're the only one who sees me."
Henry sighed slowly, stared at him for a moment, then said calmly:
"You look tired. Rest now. I asked them to prepare a room for you."
Mildo froze, eyes shining with surprise and coldness.
"A room for me?" he whispered incredulously.
Henry nodded quietly:
"It's at the end of the corridor. Go now."
Mildo took a deep breath, pain still gripping him, but moved slowly toward the end of the corridor, each step weighing heavily on body and soul.
Henry remained seated, fiddling with his weapon, thoughts on Mildo.
He sighed quietly, voice low:
"That boy… there's something strange about him."
Mildo entered his room, simple but warm, containing a bed and a small lamp casting a soft glow.
He whispered coldly, looking around:
"This is my room."
Luca ran happily and lay on the bed:
"It's comfortable."
Mildo closed the door, then approached Luca, eyes full of astonishment and suspicion:
"Why am I the only one who sees you?"
Luca smiled mysteriously:
"Well… even I don't know."
Mildo sat on the bed, holding the mask gently, and said coldly:
"It doesn't matter…"
Then he lay down, still looking at the mask until sleep claimed him, body exhausted, mind clouded.
Luca stood beside him, watching silently, whispering a mysterious smile:
"One day, you'll understand, Mildo."
The next morning, Mildo woke to find Luca still there.
"You didn't sleep?" Mildo asked in surprise.
Luca smiled calmly:
"I did. And now I woke up too."
Mildo got up and went toward the training yard.
"What are you doing here?" Luca asked, following.
"I'll train," Mildo replied, gripping a wooden stick tightly, moving it slowly with complete focus.
Luca stood in front of him, smiling:
"Then I'll help you."
He grabbed his stick too, and they sparred, exchanging blows, each strike strengthening balance and focus, as if channeling past pain and loss in different ways.
Mr. Dante and Henry walked the corridor, noticing Mildo training with precision and speed.
Dante stared for a moment, then said softly and sharply:
"Look at him… seems punishment worked."
Henry smiled quietly:
"I think it's time to change your view of him."
They approached, Mildo stopped, eyes firmly on Dante.
Dante spoke coldly, examining the burn:
"How was the dark room? Did you like it?"
He came closer, holding Mildo's face, inspecting the burn:
"Your face is beautiful now," Dante said, with a disturbing harshness.
Mildo stared coldly, expressionless, enduring the cruelty.
Dante stepped back, leaving Mildo silent.
Luca whispered quietly to Mildo:
"Let him trust you. It's your chance."
Mildo nodded slowly, raising eyes to Dante:
"I… I'm ready to do anything. I won't disappoint you this time."
Dante slowly lit his cigar, eyes never leaving Mildo, a cunning smile on his face:
"Seems results are showing… I like this."
Mildo remained silent, coldly watching, Luca observing from afar with a mysterious, motivating smile.
Dante looked at Henry sternly:
"Call Enzo."
Henry responded calmly:
"Yes, sir."
He turned slowly, a strange smile on his face, steps confident.
Dante watched Mildo with sharp eyes, measuring every move and breath.
Henry appeared behind him, Enzo beside him.
Enzo said quietly, staring at Mildo with disgust:
"We've arrived, sir."
Dante looked at Enzo with clear malice:
"Enzo, the mission I gave you last night, go now and take this boy with you."
Enzo didn't want Mildo on the mission, but Dante's order was clear.
He looked at Mildo with disdain, gritting his teeth, body resisting, then said coldly:
"Yes, sir. I'll go now."
Mildo looked at Enzo with a deadly gaze, bloodthirsty, a slight smile forming, as if silently declaring victory.
Luca stood beside him, smiling lightly, as if whispering:
"Things are getting interesting, Mildo."
Enzo looked at Mildo and growled low:
"Let's move."
He moved immediately, Mildo following calmly, while Henry's gaze held a hint of mockery toward Enzo.
Dante spoke to Henry calmly, but challengingly:
"Let's see what William's son will do."
Enzo and Mildo left the HQ, boarding a carriage, Enzo keeping a watchful eye on Mildo.
Mildo ignored him, Luca sitting beside him calmly:
"I'll accompany you."
Mildo glanced at him, could not respond, simply nodded in silent agreement.
They arrived at an old, abandoned building.
Enzo pulled out a file, saying coldly:
"Our target: five men from the Trinity gang."
Mildo looked at the photos, then stepped off the carriage before Enzo finished.
He gripped his weapon, steps calm and cold, entering the building without hesitation.
Enzo shouted indignantly:
"That bastard, I haven't finished!"
Luca followed silently, careful not to make a sound.
Suddenly, a man appeared in the hallway, shouting:
"Who are you?!"
Mildo turned quickly, shooting him in the head, then whispered coldly:
"One down."
He stepped over the body without concern, continuing inside until reaching a room where the others were talking carelessly.
Mildo stood at the door hidden, then suddenly fired at two, returning to hide at the door's edge.
One man shouted in shock:
"There's an attack!"
Mildo moved skillfully, using his hand to receive bullets, but managed to drop one, then the other.
He approached the bodies, staring coldly:
"All five down."
Another man appeared behind him, gun at his head:
"Who are you? Drop your weapon!"
Mildo threw the weapon, slowly turning, testing his opponent.
In a swift motion, he drew another pistol, firing into the man's stomach.
The man fell in pain. Mildo calmly aimed at his head:
"I am Mildo… only Mildo."
He fired without hesitation.
Mildo stepped over the blood, exiting the building, meeting Enzo in the corridor.
"I'm done… and they weren't five, they were six," Mildo said coldly.
He got into the carriage, Enzo stunned, eyes wide:
"Already finished?!"
Enzo entered with a scowl, driving back to HQ.
Silent the whole way, Mildo calm, eyes vacant, as if his actions carried no weight.
Arriving, they entered Dante's office together.
Dante sat behind his desk, slowly exhaling cigar smoke before raising eyes to Mildo.
He smiled cunningly, coldly:
"Well done."
Enzo felt fire in his chest, blood boiling.
Dante ignored him, not even a glance, as if he didn't exist.
Meanwhile, Mildo received the praise he'd longed for, in a single word.
Enzo growled silently, nearly biting his lips until they bled:
"That brat… how dare he steal my place?"
Mildo stood quietly, expressionless, as if the praise did not stir him.
Days passed, then months, ten years flew by in a blink.
Mildo transformed from a mere boy into the strongest in the HQ.
Mission after mission, emerging almost unscathed, leaving only blood and corpses behind.
The harder the missions, the brighter he shone in the "Black Beasts" gang.
No longer a mere subordinate, he became the most skilled, eyes unblinking in front of death, hands steady on the trigger.
Even the cruelest gang members began to fear his coldness, dreading the gaze on his face.
Luca remained by his side like a shadow, unchanged and ageless, his only and closest friend.