In this situation, he had no control, as one of the youths around him could fire at any time, but he had no choice but to resort to this. Why?
Because Dog Head was not an easy man to see.
Despite his lack of control, he was not worried; rather, after observing them for a while, a subtle smile graced his lips as he thought, 'that's more like it."
"The fuck you smirking at?" one of the youth who seemed irritated by Mr. Valen yelled and closed in quickly.
"Bam!"
A small thud sounded out as he hit him violently with the side of his gun, specks of blood launching into the air as Mr. Valen's lip tore.
The youth and Mr. Valen staggered back, the youth because he was wary of a counterattack and Mr. Valen because he was trying to maintain balance.
The crowd of drunkards cheered, enthralled by the spectacle, but then a deep voice disrupted their fun.
"That's enough, Dwayne."
It would seem that the youth who had confronted him was named Dwayne, but that was irrelevant to Mr. Valen at that moment.
What mattered to him was the man who had just spoken.
The man who owned the voice, pushed through the crowd, the youths giving way at the sight of his frame.
He was lean, tall even, his black skin marred by a thick scar that ran from his cheek to his jawline.
Additionally, his dreadlocks were pulled back, and he wore a heavy coat over his shoulders despite the heat.
He looked like someone who had earned the respect of everyone in the compound, a complete degenerate in Mr. Valen's eyes—but also the man he needed.
Unlike Lucien who was elusive, the leaders of the Brotherhood were as clear as day, and this man named Dog Head was one of them.
At Dog Head's command, Dwayne lowered the pistol reluctantly, stepping aside without taking his eyes off Mr. Valen.
As Dwayne gave way, Dog Head passed, stopping in front of Mr. Valen with a frown on his face, his eyes scanning him head to toe. "You've got ball white boy, I'll give you that, but if you don't give me a good reason for crashing my party, then be prepared to walk out of here with a fuck lot of holes, White boy."
«A redundant but effective threat.»
Ignoring the threat, Mr. Valen let his expression twist into unbounded hate, his brows furrowed so tightly that his face flushed a little.
Of course, this change was more than noticeable, but Dog Head was not afraid.
"I needed your attention," Mr. Valen began, his voice rough and guttural as he said. "I want to destroy the Magentas."
His intensity seemed to intrigue Dog Head who raised a brow, his lips curling into a smirk as he stared him down silently.
His gaze lingered for more than a minute until he said with a lingering chuckle.
"So you want to destroy the Magentas, haha, I haven't seen a nigga this wild in a while, come, come. Mi casa es tu casa."
Without another word, Dog Head turned and walked toward the cathedral, with Mr. Valen following not far behind.
They left behind the wary stares of the youths in the compound, that paired with the metal beat still resounding softly in the background.
Inside, the cathedral was colder, darker, and smelled of incense mixed with weed.
Candles flickered in makeshift holders, casting long shadows across graffitied walls and shattered stained glass.
There were six men at the altar, bowing earnestly to a graffiti demon symbol, the likes of which replaced the cross.
Ignoring this, Dog Head led Mr. Valen to a pew near this altar, his expression intrigued as he observed the man, noting his bruised lips from Dwayne's attack.
"At least you ain't a pussy," he chuckled slightly.
Mr. Valen, in the face of all this, sat down without hesitation, his hands remaining in his pockets
"So," Dog Head said, his voice quieter here yet still laced with his dark, twisted humor. "You said you wanted to destroy the Magentas. How exactly do you plan to do that? By giving everyone in this room head?"
"Pft!"
His words incited some stifled chuckles from the six men at the altar who were supposedly praying but Dog Head paid them no mind.
Mr. Valen, letting out a breath removed his bandaged arm from his pocket, his breath shaky as he said, "They did this to me—"
"Huh?" Dog Head responded in confusion to which Mr. Valen responded by slowly unwrapping his bandages.
As he did this Dog Head watched intently, so much so that his curiosity was apparent in his widened eyes.
Each layer of this unravel revealed more of the brutal damage beneath, until the bandage was completely removed.
What was shown, what remained of his fingers were three jagged stumps, a result of them being gnawed off at jagged angles.
The flesh around them was dark and swollen, puckered where crude attempts at healing had taken root.
His skin was torn and inflamed, partial scabs forming with patches of raw angry-red where tissue clung to exposed bone.
Despite his attempts at sterilization, thin streaks of yellow-green pus clung to the edge of one stump, and a foul, almost metallic stench polluted the air.
Dog Head's smirk faded slightly.
"Shit," he cursed loudly, his scrunched brows telling of a mixture of disgust and awe at such violence, he was a criminal after all thus lethal injuries were not new to him.
"I gotta take a picture of that man," Dog Head said before calling loudly to his six subordinates who were already in the process of walking over. "Come on guys you gotta see this."
"Shit!"
"The fuck!"
"God that's nasty!"
The six men all had similar reactions, shock mixed with disgust at such a jarring wound.
Meanwhile, Mr. Valen used this opportunity to examine them better, not that he did not know them already.
The six men went by the six apostles, strange but effective, like a nickname of sorts.
They gathered around, each carrying the rough, hardened air of street soldiers. An air that reminded Mr. Valen of the fact that they oversaw the gang's weapons and brutality.
«What, you thought this was all the most powerful gang in the Slums had to offer?»
This place was not even their base as even Mr. Valen knew not the location, what he knew was the fact that the Brotherhood had three leaders: Moth in charge of drugs and sex trafficking, GlockBoss , in charge of the large business he was also the one who was doing business with the Viper Family.
And of course Dog Head, the one in charge of all the violent footwork which meant he had more than an abundant supply of weapons.
Mr. Valen had chosen to approach him because amongst the three, he was the dumbest, the weak link, as they called it.
«Ambitious, impulsive, and lacking any real ability except a tendency for violence, the perfect subject to manipulate.»
As for the six apostles, they were his most trusted soldiers.
The first apostle was thick-necked and broad like a wrestler, while the second was wiry with a twitch in his eye that never seemed to settle.
The third apostle had a missing tooth and a permanent sneer, while the fourth was heavily tattooed, and wore chains that clinked softly with every movement.
The fifth was rail-thin, his sunken cheeks giving him a skeletal look, and the last, the tallest, had a lazy grin that didn't quite reach his cold, calculating eyes.
"That's gotta suck," the sound of the men contemplating amidst themselves brought Mr. Valen's attention back to the scene before him.
It would seem that they were taking pictures of his injury, whatever perverted use they might have for it was beyond his control.
Sighing mentally, he redrew his fingers while saying, "I helped the Magentas on a job, where I had to install a bug to help them get into the place I work, apparently, they got Intel that the government was hiding something worth ten million Vals in there, it-"
"What did you say?" Dog Head, who seemed to be paying scarce attention, snapped at him as he drew closer.
"I said ten million Vals, I don't know exactly what it is but I know where it is," Mr. Valen responded grimly, throwing his phone on the table as he added. "I was in constant communication with Lucien the whole time and a few days ago he asked to meet me, and when we did meet up, he did this to me."
At the end of his little story, Mr. Valen's voice deepened slightly, trembling for a moment before stabilizing.
Unfortunately, the people he was sharing his story with once again paid him scarce attention.
Instead, they stepped back a bit and seemed to be whispering something among themselves, with Mr. Valen only being able to catch faint whispers of certain words.
"Ten million..."
"But the fact that he knows Lucien's name.."
"It proves he's legit."
"Let's..."
"But..."
After a while, Dog Head and his apostles walked back to him, their demeanor oddly sunny as they asked, "Where exactly is this place that you work?"
"Um, t-the local GPV," Mr. Valen stuttered his expression one of discomfort at their sudden change.
"A GPV," everyone in the room echoed before one of the Apostles asked, "isn't that like a government organization? How did the Magentas plan to mess with them?"
"Yeah, tell us, kid," Dog Head said, making it painfully evident to Mr. Valen at least that they did not care for his name.