Chapter 23 – Damon Reborn

Two shots were fired.

Damon heard the mild sound of gunshots as he ran.

He was startled by the sudden loud noise and stopped in front of the floor's elevator to turn back.

He felt a shiver race through his entire body and he turned cold.

"Nate."

He wanted to, more than anything else, run back to his brother but he knew it was too late.

Nate was probably dead already.

Scarface, dragging his body, managed to step out of the room with his hand covering his bleeding right eye.

He gave Stutter, who was still on the floor, a powerful kick to wake him.

"Get up, you deadbeat!"

Scarface then turned and saw Damon far ahead.

Damon saw him and their eyes locked on each other.

It was at that moment that Damon's survival instincts kicked back in and uncertainty cleared from his mind.

Damon learned one thing from exchanging eye contact with Scarface: not to let himself be caught by the Scarface in front of him.

The person before his eyes was like a wounded beast who had locked his eye on the one responsible for its injury.

A ferocious animal whose mind and will were hellbent on tearing Damon apart if it ever laid hands on him.

Damon rushed into the elevator and immediately punched the button with the downward arrow icon and then punched the number '1' to reach the first floor.

He had the advantage of pace and also, a head start, thanks to Nate's sacrifice.

His pursuers were also slowed and disoriented from the effects of the attacks they suffered at the hands of the siblings.

Stutter was still groggy from the electrocution and his movements were disorderly.

He reeled like a drunk man taking to his heels.

On the other hand, unending agony still had its grip tight on Scarface.

The intense and persistent pain that he felt inside his head, like his brain was being stretched and wrung out like a wet towel, slowed his movements.

Scarface and his partner reached the ground floor of the building but Damon was nowhere to be found.

He had either found his way out and fled far from them or hidden so well that they would not find him.

Scarface clenched his fist and slammed the wall closest to him, leaving the bloody imprint of his palm on the wall.

Stutter gasped.

"The boss will kill us, man," he said.

"Not before I strangle that boy with my hands, he won't. That little brat owes me an eye!"

Passers-by looked at the two of them strangely and avoided getting in their way or even close to them, especially Scarface, who was bathed in blood.

"We have to find him then," Stutter stated the obvious.

The surroundings spun instantly before Scarface's eye and then blurred.

He shook his head and his vision returned to normal, although his pain worsened.

Scarface understood what was happening.

He had lost so much blood after all and needed care urgently.

"No. I need to get to the hospital first before that. Get the car."

He leaned on an iron pole that was nearby while waiting for Stutter to bring their car around.

.

.

.

Meanwhile, another elevator stopped on one of the floors of the building — the same floor where the crisis had occurred.

The doors of the elevator slid apart and opened up to the person inside.

Damon stepped out.

The white-haired boy never left the building.

He thought it safer to reach the ground floor and take another elevator back up than run out of the building when he was not sure how many of the men in black suits, or disguised allies of theirs, lurked outside.

He walked back to the old lady's room only to witness the most heartbreaking moment of his life.

He expected it but he wanted to be sure what became of them.

Damon wanted to see with his own eyes.

Nate was on the floor with his chair felled beside him and the old lady was more peaceful even though she laid on the ground.

Looking closely, Damon noticed that her face was buried in the pool of her blood that seeped from a small hole reaching from the back of her head to her forehead in front.

Both of them were dead, each with a bullet to the head.

Damon trembled and clutched his chest as he cried out with a heavy heart. He dropped to his knees and wept.

Minutes after minutes, he was crying.

An hour passed.

Two hours passed and he was still weeping.

More time than could be counted passed and Damon still mourned.

He cried until his eyes were scarce with tears to cry.

He sniffled and wiped his nose.

Like a man reborn, he stood with his eyes narrowed and placed a call to an emergency agency before walking out.

This reborn Damon was different from one who had mourned for his brother.