Chapter 29: Bread and Candy (6)

Not a single one of the thirty Sicarios chose the candy over the bread.

• Memoirs: The Saved Ones (Los Salvados)

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The man with the haggard face barely managed to hold what was handed to him with trembling hands.

“…….”

With dirt-caked fingers, he tore open the wrapper and shoved the dry bread into his mouth.

Then, suddenly, he stopped eating and collapsed to the floor as if crumbling under his own weight.

“Ugh… Uuuugh…”

Like a child, he began to cry uncontrollably.

Memories of the hellish days, his ruined self, and the overwhelming realization of having regained a precious life—all came crashing down at once.

Under the warm gaze still fixed on him, he sobbed, pouring out everything he had kept inside.

He had no idea how long he cried.

Through his blurry vision, he saw a hand reaching out.

Slowly raising his tear-soaked face, he saw her—the beautiful girl who had given him hope, like a living miracle.

And then he noticed the others—dozens of people standing behind her, quietly watching him.

They were of various ages and races, but they all shared a similar look of past pain and lingering shadows.

At the front of the group stood a particularly striking figure—a man with a clean, strong appearance, once unkempt and lost just like him.

Lonzo recognized him instantly—one of the cartel’s addicted mercenaries, someone who had been drowning in a deeper hell than his own.

But now, his once clouded eyes were clear, filled with calm determination.

“Get up, brother.”

The man extended his hand.

When Lonzo numbly took it, the man pulled him to his feet, patting his shoulder firmly.

“Welcome to salvation.”

Their eyes met, and in that moment, they both recognized a shared understanding—a bond forged by surviving the same hell.

It was a connection between souls rescued from the brink of destruction, and above all, a mutual hatred toward the one who had caused their suffering.

The same fire burned in all their eyes.

As the flame of anger flickered to life within Lonzo, he unconsciously clenched his jaw.

Just then, a clear, resonant voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

“Is everyone ready?”

With that single sentence, Lonzo and the dozens of others immediately turned and knelt before her.

Like knights swearing loyalty, they knelt without a trace of hesitation.

“…..!”

For a moment, Lonzo hesitated, surprised by their collective display of devotion.

But soon, he, too, knelt down, bowing his head like the others.

If there was anyone in this wretched world worthy of such respect, it could only be her—the one who pulled his soul out of the depths of despair.

Having witnessed her miracles and received her grace, he could only lower himself in sincere gratitude.

In the silence that followed, everyone waited for her next words.

With a firm and resolute voice, she declared:

“Then, let’s go set everything right.”

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The Sicarios were too sharp a blade to be wielded by a mere drug dealer.

The moment that blade slipped from his hand, Ricardo’s entire empire began to collapse.

Inside his safe house, Ricardo was throwing a fit—kicking expensive furniture and smashing holographic frames on the wall.

In an instant, his luxurious hideout had become a chaotic mess.

“Damn it! Damn it! Why?! How?!”

His elite guard—the Sicarios, mercenaries whose very souls were chained by the biochemical magic of addiction—how could they suddenly turn against him?

Reports flooded in—every one of his businesses, hideouts, and bases were being wiped out in real time.

“How the hell did she do it? What did that b*tch pull?!”

Ricardo clawed at his hair.

Did she bribe the Sicarios?

Impossible—they didn’t care about money.

Did she use a stronger drug? No way.

Heaven Candy didn’t cause withdrawal symptoms when combined with other substances.

It was a perfect leash—addicts could only cling to him for their next dose.

“What kind of miracle did she pull?!”

Ricardo couldn’t make sense of it.

All he could do was scream at his subordinate.

“Hey! Juan! Has the cartel contacted us yet?! Where’s the support?!”

Terrified, Juan stammered.

“T-They just sent word… They said to handle it ourselves… since it’s just a lower district problem…”

“You f*cking bastards!”

Ricardo grabbed a liquor bottle and hurled it against the wall, shattering it.

He ranted and raved, hurling curses, while Juan backed into a corner, too scared to intervene.

Eventually, exhausted, Ricardo slumped onto the sofa, gasping for breath.

“Hah… Hah…”

His eyes now showed fear rather than anger.

‘Dammit… This is over. I need to get out of here.’

His thoughts raced.

‘Take the hidden cash and flee to the city center. This is the outskirts—they’re running wild here because there’s no oversight. Once I’m downtown, there’s surveillance everywhere, and ODPD actually does its job there. I can buy time and regroup.’

Having formed his plan, Ricardo jumped to his feet, ready to move.

But at that moment—

Boom!

The reinforced door of the safe house crashed inward with a deafening bang.

“Khak!”

Ricardo fell back onto the sofa, stunned.

As the dust settled, he stared at the destroyed doorway, his hands shaking.

“J-Juan? Is that you?”

No response. He scanned the room, pulling a handgun from his waistband.

Suddenly, a cold presence appeared behind him.

Before he could turn, a steel grip seized his wrist and crushed it.

Crunch!

“AAAAAGH!”

Ricardo’s scream echoed throughout the safe house.

He collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain, clutching his broken wrist.

Emerging from the shadows, Lonzo looked down at Ricardo with icy contempt, about to strike again when another voice stopped him.

“Careful, Lonzo. He belongs to all of us. Don’t hog the fun.”

Lonzo pulled back, composing himself.

“…Sorry, brother.”

Ricardo, still clutching his mangled hand, crawled backward, glaring at them in disbelief.

“You… You traitorous pieces of sh*t! You dare betray me?! Don’t you know who I am?!”

At his words, a fiery rage sparked in the eyes of the ex-Sicarios surrounding him.

“You f*cking scumbag!”

Someone shouted, and the repressed fury erupted.

They descended upon Ricardo, fists and boots pounding him mercilessly.

Wham! Thud! Crack!

Blood splattered, teeth flew, and his fine clothes were stained with grime and blood.

Ricardo’s screams soon turned to pitiful moans.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded, and the brutal beating stopped abruptly.

In the suffocating silence, Ricardo struggled to open his swollen eyes.

Standing there was the beautiful young woman he once mocked as a naive girl.

“You… You’re…”

He muttered through his bleeding lips, still unable to grasp the situation.

“How… How did you…?! Did you bribe them? Or use another drug? Tell me!”

He babbled incoherently. Lonzo kicked him hard in the side.

“Show respect, you trash. You don’t speak unless spoken to in her presence.”

“Khuk…”

Ricardo’s ribs felt like they were all shattered.

He couldn’t even think of resisting.

His survival instincts kicked in, realizing that the woman was the key to everything.

He dropped his head to the floor, groveling.

“I-I was wrong! I finally understand!”

He sobbed, desperately pleading.

“Back then… When you came to the club… Was it to give me a chance to repent? Right? I didn’t realize it at the time! You wanted me to reflect and change, didn’t you? Please… Please, just one more chance! I’ll do anything you say!”

She looked at him with a weary sigh.

“Honestly… I don’t know if I have the right to judge you, since I’m not the direct victim here.”

Ricardo’s eyes lit up, clinging to that shred of hope.

But she wasn’t finished.

She turned, glancing at the people surrounding him.

“But they certainly do.”

She gave a final, cold command.

“I’ll leave the rest to you.”

She walked toward the exit, with ST silently following.

As she left, the dozens of former Sicarios bowed their heads deeply in respect.

Creak… Slam!

Silence fell once more.

Then, low, predatory growls rumbled through the room—the sound of menacing breaths, like beasts eyeing their prey.

The restrained bloodlust that had been kept in check by her presence now flowed freely, spreading among them.

Their eyes gleamed with murderous intent.

One of them, Lonzo, leaned in close, whispering in Ricardo’s ear.

“We won’t kill you right away. No… You’ll live… for a long, long time… in agony.”

A dark stain spread across Ricardo’s pants as fear overwhelmed him.