Chapter 2 Gangs

Edward's eyes widened in sheer disbelief upon reading the message.

He rubbed his eyes in astonishment, as if to ensure he wasn't caught in some fantastical reverie.

"750 trillion dollars?" he mused aloud, his countenance a curious blend of surprise and elation.

Urgency surged within him, propelling him from his bed to the waiting computer.

"It worked?" Edward marveled, his eyes agog. Leaving the computer powered, he watched as the extraction process culminated, initiating a subsequent transfer.

"I can scarcely believe it. I've finally succeeded," he contemplated, his fingers dancing across the keyboard to fortify the newfound wealth against potential reversals from its enigmatic source.

In truth, Edward remained ignorant of whose Bank he'd endeavored to infiltrate over the course of months.

He'd taken aim at the affluent of Brickwoods, hoping to breach their impregnable accounts.

"Perhaps my enthusiasm has carried me away. Is it even real?" Edward muttered, his gaze once more drawn to the luminous screen, absorbing the message anew.

With a swift motion, Edward retrieved a black hoodie from his closet, donning it before venturing out, ATM card in hand.

***

The night, now dark and foreboding, was an inhospitable domain for the denizens of Brickwoods.

Danger lurked, with gangs and thugs exploiting the shroud of darkness.

Many of these malevolent groups were underwritten by the city's wealthy, employing them for nefarious deeds.

For some, this offered an enticing escape from hardship, lured by the promise of handsome rewards.

Edward, however, refused to tread such treacherous paths.

The allure of a gang's spoils couldn't eclipse the perils it entailed.

Silent streets bore witness to Edward's passage, his jet-black hair obscured by the concealing hood.

He remained vigilant, ever watchful for signs of lurking danger.

After a brief journey, Edward arrived before an ATM, nestled beside a raucous nightclub.

Thumping music and revelry emanated from within, attesting to the presence of numerous gang members. Time was of the essence.

Sliding his card into the machine, Edward pressed the buttons thoughtfully.

"Let's try... one dollar."

[Transaction approved]

The notification flashed on the screen, and a single dollar emerged with his card.

Edward collected it, his gaze fixed upon the modest note as if it held the key to a lifetime of liberation.

Ding*

[Debit alert: 1$]

[Balance: 74,999,999,999,999]

The message illuminated Edward's screen, solidifying the reality of his newfound affluence.

He was rich beyond imagining.

"The original owner was surely no saint," he surmised, rationalizing his actions. "I needn't harbor remorse. It's time to live as a man of means."

Slipping the dollar into his pocket, he prepared to depart.

"Why would the boss summon us so urgently?" a deep voice rumbled from behind.

Edward turned, his heart pounding, only to confront six hulking figures, clad in red singlets and adorned with crimson bandanas. Tattoos etched their skin.

"I don't know, but he sounded urgent on the phone," another replied, exhaling a plume of smoke.

"Perhaps he requires us for a... special task."

Edward concealed himself behind a nearby car, stifling his breath to evade detection.

The footsteps grew louder, drawing nearer. Peering cautiously, Edward spotted the gang members entering the very car that provided his concealment.

"Hey, who are you?!" one of them barked, fixing his gaze on Edward.

Panic surged, and Edward sprinted from his hiding place.

"Get him!" the command rang out, followed by the revving of an engine. They pursued him relentlessly.

"God, will I perish without savoring the fruits of my labor?" Edward ruminated, legs propelling him with all their might.

Edward's heart raced as he sprinted through the dimly lit streets, the pounding of his footsteps drowned out by the distant wail of sirens.

Behind him, the low growl of an engine rumbled, drawing closer with menacing intent.

The headlights of the pursuing car sliced through the night, casting long, ominous shadows that danced ahead of him.

The shouts and jeers of the relentless gang members echoed, a haunting chorus urging them onward.

Edward's breath came in ragged gasps, adrenaline coursing through his veins, as he pushed himself to outrun the impending danger, every step a desperate bid for escape.

He navigated a maze of twists and turns, but to no avail.

Bang* Bang*

The reports of gunfire echoed through the once-silent street, intensifying Edward's heartbeats to a deafening crescendo.

The bullets whizzed past him, clanging against metal.

Bang*

It was a staccato burst, like a thunderclap compressed into a split second.

The sound seemed to slice through the air, leaving an eerie resonance in its wake.

Fortunately, the bullet's path veered off course, sparing Edward from its deadly trajectory.

The echo of the gunshot lingered, a chilling reminder of the danger narrowly averted.

"Where did he go?" one gang member queried, astonishment etched across his face as he scanned the surroundings.

"We lost him. Let's go. The boss is waiting," another decided.

They retreated to their vehicle and sped away.

From a small, circular orifice, Edward extricated himself, his heart still pounding and breath ragged.

Edward's chest heaved with exertion as he crouched behind a weathered dumpster, hidden in the shadows.

His breath misted in the cool night air, eyes wide and alert, scanning the darkened street for any sign of movement.

The distant echoes of the gang's pursuit still lingered, but now only the hollow echo of silence remained.

Carefully, he strained his senses, listening for any telltale sounds of the retreating car engine or fading footsteps.

Each passing second seemed to stretch into an eternity, the weight of uncertainty pressing upon him.

With cautious hope, he began to believe that, just maybe, the gang had finally relented, leaving him alone in the quiet night.

"That was too close," he gasped, a trembling hand pressed against his chest.

Swiftly, he retraced his steps to the safety of his abode, mindful to avoid encountering his erstwhile "associates.".

Most gang around Brickwoods hated normal folks to see their faces.

They claim that once a person sees their face,the person would go to the cops and give them descriptions that could lead to theor arrest.

That's why they had to end anybody they crossed paths with.