Pretty big statement for a cop who’s the black market dealer. I wonder how your crew would feel if they ever found out that you’re the one aiding the gang? Too bad it won’t matter now, though.
In perfect sync, I load a bullet into the chamber of the rifle, take a deep breath and line up the center of my sights with the side of Takeo’s head. Following their casual walking, they come to a stop at the corner of the street.
Without a moment of second thought, I pull the trigger; the sound of the bullet rings out loud, alerting everybody in the area, causing mass hysteria and panic. People start running in random directions, unsure of where the bullet came from, screaming for their lives. The only person who isn’t running away is Takeo. The bullet flew straight through the side of his head, dragging a large mass of his brain tissue out of the exit wound and splatting across a storefront window, making it seem like stained glass art.
I let out a relaxed sigh, “Finally finished on my end. All I need to do now is go collect my money and I’ll be on my way to a nice, long weekend.”
This whole night lasted much longer than it should have, but now I don’t have to worry about it. I take a moment to look at the insanity going on down in the streets; Takeo’s lifeless body is face down on the pavement with his head resting in a pool of blood. Most of the block is empty, but that will soon change in just a few minutes when the police arrive to the scene. By the time they’re here, I’ll be long gone and probably drunk somewhere.