As A Mafia Boss, I Refuse To Be An Extra - Chapter 161: Brian II
Chapter 161: Brian II
Damian spoke suddenly, his voice slightly affected by the alcohol.
“You know so many things about me. My background, my secrets, the illegal shit I’ve done.
But I don’t know anything about your life beyond your career disappointments.”
He turned to look at Brian directly.
“So tell me. What’s your story? And where the hell are you driving me to?”
Brian smiled, something sheepish and proud mixing in his expression.
“There isn’t much interesting to say about me, honestly. I already told you about my career and how that turned out. Pretty standard story of idealism meeting bureaucratic reality.”
His smile widened.
“But if there’s something I’m genuinely proud of, something that makes all the career disappointments worth it, it’s my family… My parents and my little brother.”
Damian’s eyes widened in genuine surprise.
“You have a brother?”
“Yeah. He is ten years old. Kid’s actually a huge fan of yours after seeing the Demon fight footage. When I told him I knew you personally, he practically lost his mind with excitement.”
Brian’s voice carried affection.
“So I’m taking you to meet them. My family. Figured you could use some normal human interaction after everything you’ve been through.”
Damian stared at him for a long moment, his alcohol-affected brain processing this information.
“…Wait. How old are you again?”
Brian looked confused by the question.
“I’m in my thirties… Why?”
Damian’s expression shifted to something like awe.
“Your parents really love each other so much that they decided to have another kid after so many years. That’s… that’s genuine commitment to family building.”
Brian’s confusion intensified.
“What are you talking about?”
“That kid is old enough to be your son! The age gap is massive! Your parents wouldn’t have really wanted another child despite already raising you to adulthood!”
Damian’s tone carried drunken sincerity.
Brian went completely speechless, his mouth opening and closing without sound.
“You… you…”
“What, ’you you’? I’m just saying, that’s a significant age difference between siblings. Most people don’t plan for that.”
“He’s my brother, not my son!”
“I know! That’s what I’m saying! The age gap makes him almost like he could be your son, but he’s your brother, which means your parents didn’t plan him!”
They bickered back and forth, the alcohol loosening both their tongues, the conversation deteriorating into the kind of stupid argument only drunk friends could have.
The age difference between them – Brian in his thirties, Damian barely sixteen – didn’t matter at all in these moments.
They were just two people who understood each other, who’d built genuine friendship through honest conversation and mutual respect.
The car finally stopped in front of a modest house in a quiet neighborhood, far from the wealthy districts where Damian’s family lived.
It was completely normal and average. The kind of place regular people built lives.
Brian and Damian stepped out of the car, both slightly unsteady from the alcohol, both grinning at their own stupidity.
The night outside was cloudy and windy, the air carrying that electric feeling that came before storms.
Damian’s crimson hair came loose as the knot holding it back untied, the long strands whipping around his face in the wind.
Brian’s short black hair ruffled, making him look younger than his years.
They each took final sips from their bottles, finishing the alcohol, standing in comfortable silence for a moment.
“Ready to meet the family?”
Brian’s voice carried excitement despite the drink.
“Sure. Let’s see what kind of people raised someone as moral as you.”
They walked toward the house together, Brian pulling out his keys.
He opened the door and stepped inside, calling out cheerfully.
“Mom! Dad! I’m home! And I brought someone to–”
Brian froze mid-sentence.
He completely stopped moving, his body going rigid with his voice cutting off like someone had severed his vocal cords.
Damian, confused by the sudden halt, stepped around Brian to see what had caused the reaction.
Then… his own blood ran cold.
The lobby stretched before them, normal furniture and family photos creating an atmosphere of lived-in warmth.
But on the wall directly in front of them, grotesquely out of place, hung three severed heads.
An elderly man. An elderly woman. And… A young boy.
Their faces frozen in expressions of absolute terror, eyes gouged out leaving empty sockets that seemed to stare accusingly, mouths open in silent screams.
Below the heads, arranged with deliberate care, lay three bodies.
The bodies were tortured extensively before death.
There were burns, cuts and broken bones protruding through skin serving as the evidence of prolonged suffering.
The old couple showed signs of having been worked over for hours with every finger broken, skin flayed in strips and internal organs partially exposed through precise incisions.
The boy’s small body bore marks suggesting he’d been forced to watch his parents’ torture before experiencing his own. His limbs twisted at unnatural angles with his chest cavity opened.
Blood pooled beneath them, still wet and spreading slowly across the floor.
It was fresh! Very fresh! This had happened recently. Maybe within the past hour.
The smell hit them both simultaneously. Copper and meat and death!
“Ahh… AhhhHAHAAAHH!!!!”
Brian made a sound that wasn’t quite human, something between a scream and a sob, his legs giving out as he collapsed to his knees.
His eyes were locked on the three faces hanging on his wall.
His parents and his… little brother!
His family!
Dead! Tortured! Displayed like trophies!
Damian’s mind went completely cold, his alcohol-induced relaxation evaporating instantly as combat instincts took over.
His hand moved to his spatial ring, weapons ready to materialize.
His Aura flared, senses extending outward, searching for whoever had done this.
But Brian wasn’t thinking tactically. Wasn’t processing anything beyond the immediate horror.
He crawled forward on his hands and knees, reaching toward the bodies, his voice breaking.
“No. No no no no no! Not them! Please not them! Mom! Dad! Eric!!!!”
His brother’s name came out as a wail.
The night wind howled outside with clouds gathering darker.
Inside the house, silence except for Brian’s breaking sobs and the sound of blood dripping onto the floor.
And somewhere in the shadows, someone who’d done this was either watching or had left a message written in the deaths of an innocent family.
Damian stood perfectly still with his face empty of any expression, his mind calculating and cold.
’This is a message meant for Brian or for me or… for both of us.’
The storm outside began in earnest with rain starting to fall.
Inside, surrounded by death and horror and Brian’s breaking heart, Damian’s Slaughter Intent began to leak out unconsciously.
