The Jobless Guy Who Has Come To Slay Novels & Stories

The deprived man falls to the floor with the intense pain inside his body. Coughing blood and his stomach is nearly destroy by his hard punches. Jostein grabs his hair then looks at his face… he pinches the cheeks then turn it to the left and right. “Such a handsome but non secretive type of person… you know, not all the time you must be a hero. Remember, all heroes DIE!” with his enlarging eyes he cries so loud with a blood in his saliva—falling to the floor. “Remember me; I am Jostein De Vere… your nightmare, in this shit land of misery. I will end all your sufferings so you can call me a God.” A tongue moistening his lips.

It seems that I couldn't get her out of my mind at all. "I will find you Miss unknown." I mumbled but the next second I was distracted by call. It's time to focus on my work. ___ I put back the lingerie in my pocket and stormed out of my suite. Black roll Royce cars were lined up outside with men in black, waiting for me. Their Boss , Caspar Mcadam, the money laundering Mafia King. The god of the American underworld. I'm the symbol of danger, blood and death...no human being in their sanity would like to cross their paths with me... I'm ruthless man with no mercy feelings.

my voice low and menacing. The figure struggles, but I tighten my grip. "Tell me!" I shout. The mask slips, revealing a young, terrified face. "I-I don't know," the figure stammers. I glare, searching for any hint of deception. "Who hired you?" I press. The figure shakes its head. "I swear, I don't know! I was just paid to—" A sudden flash of realization crosses their face. "No, please! Don't—" My grip tightens, but the figure's words are cut short. A silenced gunshot echoes through the alley, and the figure slumps, lifeless.

Unity unquestionable. The world cheered. Inside, two people fought a war no one could see—against contracts, against families, against themselves. And somewhere beneath the performance, something irreversible had taken root. Not passion. Not fantasy. But something far more dangerous. Attachment.

"Better than you know yourself." "That's not an answer." "It's the only one I can give you tonight." Frustration rose in her chest, hot and sudden. "People say you've killed thousands. They say you're cursed. They say you cannot die, and I saw the number above your head today, and it said zero, and you're still standing here as if that means nothing at all." Her voice cracked slightly on the last word. "What are you?"

The man killing these people looked like he is Satan himself who came to take these souls back to hell. The head follower was now shaken and scared out of his mind. None of them got a chance to react or retaliate before Kyle started to slay his enemies so ruthlessly. Even though the head follower is still not speaking, the other man started to speak out of desperation to save his own life.

Holding one, I called out one of the guys who messed up the last job. Clearing my throat, I grabbed his neck tight with the gun in my right hand. "This gun is perfect for any job. You will take clear shots without having any problems. Just like this," I said as I shot the guy. They all gasped when he dropped dead beside my feet. "That is what you will get if you mess up my job. Your duty is to make sure everything goes well. It's very simple, take drugs, sell them and kill anyone who gets in your way. I don't know why it's so difficult for you all," I added, rolling my eyes in disgust.

I was no longer trapped in that room but now in an open field where all my enemies were formed in a line and I could do what i wanted to them. “What do you have?” I ask, already planning what I’m going to do to them. They would wish for death by the time I’m done with them. “The mercenaries that were hired. One of my guys was part of the team, but he pulled out when he realized you were the target.” Killian grew up in the streets before he was adopted by a rich family. So he knew every class of people and mostly the dirty ones. “Does he know the other people on the team?” I’d almost forgotten Claude was there until he spoke. “Or if he can recognize them.”

“It cannot be helped.” “Fair enough. The rooftop bar, in an hour,” he said, making it clear no more discussion was needed. As she stepped into the bar, she felt an electricity in the air. The city sky stretched far behind, but all her attention zeroed in on De Silva, who looked like he was holding court, and the sheer proximity of him was rather unsettling. He was a Mafia boss of sorts and she had seen how far a man like him could go. “Tasha,” he said, spotting her and her extended hand. “Hello, Tasha. What’s going on? You sounded worried over the phone.”

The man's cries and wails echoed off the walls with the smell of blood and disinfectant infiltrating the area. "Who hired you?" The question was repeated before Salvatore began on the third finger, cutting away at the flesh before snapping the bone in two. "JAYSON LEONE!" The man cried out, blubbering and delirious from the pain, Salvatore putting the scalpel away from his hand where he had left three stumps instead of fingers. "Please...it was Jayson...Jayson hired me..." Salvatore grabbed the man face into his hand, digging his blood-soaked fingers into his cheeks.