Minho looked at Bihami's message and turned to Eslin. "Let's find the slime," he said, dismissing the others.
Eslin transformed and they flew off.
Arriving at the alley where a hooded ice elf waved, Eslin went lower and Minho jumped down, landing gracefully on the floor.
"Where is he?" Minho asked.
The elf scratched its head.
[Bihami says "I just felt his presence. I did not actually sight him."]
Minho frowned, giving it a blank stare. He exhaled and went on to look around. That's when he realized the alley was familiar.
This was the path to his father's gambling hub. "Are you sure this is where you felt it?" Minho asked.
Bihami nodded vigorously.
Minho hummed and walked forward. "You both stay here," he said as Eslin arrived.
He turned the next corner and in front of him was the metal door. The moment he got close enough, a small section at the top slid open and a pair of eyes peeked through.
"We're closed, go away."
Whoever was behind the door grumbled, tone disrespectful.
"Lee Minho," Minho said.
"Hm? Oh, boss's…" the man paused, remembering how Minho warned him of not calling him that, the last time he was here. "Err, I can't let you in."
"Why?" Minho asked.
"Because, the boss said not to let anyone in." The man cleared his throat, voice dropping low. "Also… you both agreed that you were never coming here any—"
"Open the door." Minho interrupted, voice flat.
"Seriously, I can—"
"Open. The. Door. Last time I'm asking you."
CLICK!
The lock turned and a few chains were released, before the door was opened with a soft groan.
Minho stepped in, glaring at the sweating short man who was stopping him from entering. Matter of fact, he had to stand on a stool to reach the opening where he looked out from.
"Psst! Psst!" The man called out as Minho walked past him.
Minho glanced over his shoulder at the guard.
The man shook his head slowly and waved a finger, urging Minho to not go inside, for his own safety.
Minho now knew that something was wrong. However, he was sensing a strong mana, but it wasn't enough to be a Monarch's.
Minho ignored the man and continued inside, opening the door to the main bar. There were about two dozens of men in the room.
Familiar crooks and gangster that worked for his father, including a few other minions he knew absolutely nothing about.
They were all gathered at different corners of the room, with—surprisingly—what seemed to be looks if fear in their eyes.
However, when they spotted Minho, they got up to their feet and started closing in on him. They seemed to easily hide the fear that was on their faces.
One of the hulking men—about double Minho's size—stood in front of him and bent his face to look Minho in the eye. "Ayy, boss's son. Didn't they tell ya we're closed? That short bastard let you in, didn't he? I'd like you to walk yourself out,"
Minho remained expressionless and blinked once. His eyes went to one of them who couldn't look him in the eye.
It was one of the men who were around when he came the last time and broke the table.
Minho returned his gaze to the hulking man. "Don't call me that. Anyways, where's your boss?"
"Pffthahaha." The man laughed, the odour coming from his mouth making Minho blinked rapidly. "Are you commanding—"
"How many years has it been since you last took care of your mouth?" Minho cut him off, covering his nose and furrowing his brows. "At least once or twice a month could help you. A lot."
The man's laughter died down and eventually turned into a scowl. "You think you can make fun of me because you're the boss's son?"
"Again, don't call me that."
The man raised a finger, about to poke Minho's shoulder. "Boss's son—huh?"
Minho grasped his finger and with a swift motion, he broke it, bone poking out. Minho went on to hold the entire hand, thus, twisting it until he seperate the shoulder from its socket, all while remaining stoically calm and unblinking.
"AAAARGHHH, YOU BASTARD!" The man yelled, his other hand descending on Minho.
Minho stood there and let it hit his face, the gust of wind it carried blowing over the others. Minho didn't move an inch, and even his face was just slightly bent.
"Still pathetic for your size. I expected more," Minho muttered, raising his hand slowly and giving the man a sound slap that snapped his neck.
The hulking man fell to the floor, dead.
Minho looked at the body, then he returned his gaze to the others who were now picking stances. "Are you going to tell me where he is or are you going to be stupid enough to—"
"Aaaahh!" One of them charged in.
Minho smiled. "Good thing you picked option two yourselves."
Minho ducked effortlessly. More of them came after him and he blocked of their attacks with just one hand. Parrying, breaking, dislocating and even cutting off the hands of some.
One tried sweeping his feet off the ground, but Minho jumped slightly, stepping on the leg and breaking it, then he played the guy's head off like a soccer ball.
Another tried stabbing him, but he held the hand, using it to slit the throats of three others before using it stab the person through the eye.
One tried giving Minho a spear, but Minho jumped, flipping over the guy and gripping his shirt.
With an almost effortlessly thow he flung the guy into ceiling, embedding his head in it.
For a moment the fight stopped and everyone looked at the suspended body.
"I heard chandeliers are expensive these days. This looks good, right?" Minho mocked.
The fight started again Minho started yawning mid battle at how boring it was getting, infuriating them even more.
They soon started throwing chairs and tables at him but he dodged easily Minho swiped once, cutting the table that came in front of him and went on to blitz past three of the men, their heads falling to the ground.
Minho turned around and was about to say something when—
BANG!
A gunshot.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Minho looked down at his chest and saw four holes, blood gushing out. "Interesting," he said, blood coming out from the side of his mouth before his vision blurred and he fell to the ground