The dim glow of flickering neon lights cast eerie shadows across the abandoned warehouse that served as the Moon Beast gang’s hideout. The air was thick with smoke, sweat, and tension as the gang members gathered around a rusted metal table, the scent of gasoline and blood lingering like an old memory.
Kiko—their ruthless leader—sat at the head, legs casually spread, a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers. His cold eyes scanned the room, unreadable and sharp like broken glass.
One of the younger members finally broke the silence. “Did you guys hear?” he said, leaning forward with wide eyes. “The leader of the Headless Angels… Thompson. He’s dead.”
The words hung heavy in the air.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Kiko let out a short, dry laugh, the sound void of humor. “N
