At first, planting a bomb on a car sounded like the easiest job in the world.
Nine times out of ten, it went smoothly.
But tonight? This was different.
Leon's Diomas Nilo wasn't just a car — it was a fortress.
The moment William and Bill got close, the anti-theft system came alive.
Headlights snapped on, an onboard AI voice warned of dangerous items detected, and a heavy black minigun rose from its hidden compartment.
They froze.
A car… with a gun? That was already insane.
But the voice system recognizing explosives? That was beyond anything they had seen in years of dirty work.
"Only one gun," William whispered, trying to sound brave. "You move right, I move left. Whichever of us isn't targeted can slap the bomb on."
Bill nodded, pretending to back away as the gun tracked him.
William darted left, eyes full of malice. With a sudden sprint, he raised the remote bomb, ready to slam it onto the car's flank—
"Dangerous behavior detected. Gravity field activating."
A crushing force slammed down from above.
It felt like the sky itself collapsed on them.
Both men hit the ground instantly, bones creaking, sweat pouring.
It was like being pinned by a boulder. William sprawled flat, his arm still outstretched mid-motion, unable to move an inch.
"God—my bones are breaking!!" Bill groaned, barely keeping himself propped up. His arms shook violently, until finally he collapsed face-first beside William.
But that was only the beginning.
Five seconds later, a second wave of gravity slammed into the parking garage.
Over 200 parked cars caved in at once — roofs crushed like soda cans, glass shattering in a rainstorm of shards. The echo thundered across the whole block.
Shards rained down, piercing into William and Bill's flesh.
They screamed, blood gurgling in their throats. Organs shifted inside them, ribs cracked like twigs. William spat blood; Bill wheezed like a dying animal.
Car alarms exploded into a hellish symphony. Sirens wailed so loud, even the NYPD two streets away could hear it.
"Danger proximity critical. Switching to horizontal gravity wave."
Bill's heart sank. "Not again…"
The next blast hit sideways.
Their bodies were hurled like paper in a storm. William slammed headfirst into a nearby car, skull rattling. His body broke instantly. He slumped lifeless, eyes open and glassy, neck twisted.
The shockwave flung crushed cars aside like toys. One vehicle flipped, smashing into three others before crashing down in a heap of mangled metal.
Bill spun through the air, bones snapping. He crashed into a wall, gasping, blood pouring from his mouth.
And then… he realized with horror: the bomb had stuck to his own chest.
The impact must have armed it. The LED countdown blinked: 5… 4… 3…
"WRNMB!!!" Bill screamed incoherently, his last words drowned by the roar.
The explosion ripped the parking lot apart. The wall collapsed, fireballs rolled, and the shockwave tore through everything in reach. Cars flipped, glass sprayed, chunks of asphalt blew apart. The boom echoed across several city blocks.
When hotel staff rushed to the back lot, the sight made their jaws drop.
It was like a warzone.
Two hundred cars flattened, roofs pancaked. Shattered glass everywhere. Burn marks on the walls. One whole section of the lot looked as though a giant steel plate had smashed it flat.
And in the middle of this apocalyptic scene?
The Diomas Nilo.
Standing untouched.
No dents, no burns, not even a scratch.
In a sea of mangled wrecks, it gleamed like a jewel — impossible to ignore, a god among machines.
Hotel staff could barely breathe.
"Unbelievable… what the hell happened here?"
"Every single car crushed flat…"
"Was this… a terrorist attack?"
Security footage showed two men entering. Now only corpses remained — one blown apart into unrecognizable fragments, the other broken like a discarded doll.
The police and ambulances were called, but not to rescue — only to collect remains.
Meanwhile, across town, Arturo Braga had been sleeping comfortably in his New York villa. His phone rang sharply, waking him with irritation.
"You'd better have a damn good reason to wake me," he growled.
"Boss…" the terrified voice on the other end stammered. "William and Bill… they're dead."
Braga sat bolt upright, eyes wide.
"What?!"
William and Bill — his best bomb experts.
His demolition specialists.
The ones who never failed.
Tonight's job had been simple: destroy a single car.
And yet… they were both dead.
"Tell me exactly what happened," Braga demanded, though his hands were already clammy with cold sweat.
"…We don't know. William's bones were crushed like powder. Bill… blew himself up with his own bomb. Neither left a whole body behind."
Braga's breath caught. Even for a man like him, the thought of two of his best men being obliterated like that sent shivers down his spine.
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