Chapter 626  A brutal beating

Erik and Rebecca's footsteps echoed through the dark alleys as they pursued the mustache man.

The narrow, winding streets of the slums were a maze, and the chase was a frenetic game of cat and mouse.

Their target's fear lent him speed, and he darted through the shadows, his heavy boots pounding against the cobblestones.

Erik locked his eyes on his target, moving his body with a fluid grace as he leaped over obstacles and dodged around corners.

The man was desperate but familiar with the slums. It enabled him to keep a safe distance from Erik, who was faster and stronger.

Since adrenaline was still coursing through his veins because of the fight, the young man felt the thrill of the chase and he pushed himself harder.

"Erik!" Rebecca screamed as he left her behind and turned the corner.

Rebecca's heart was pounding in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she navigated the labyrinthine alleys.

The slums were riddled with danger and decay, and every shadow seemed to hold a potential threat that made her feel more vulnerable than Erik.

The mustache man glanced over his shoulder, his eyes wide with terror as he saw Erik gaining on him.

He stumbled, his foot catching on a loose stone. His heart pounded in his chest as he quickly regained his balance. With his face set in a grimace of determination, he took a deep breath and continued running. If they caught him, he knew they would kill him.

The thought of the consequences of his capture sent shivers down his spine.

"You will pay for this motherfucker!"

Erik's mind was filled with a flurry of thoughts as he feverishly pursued his prey through the labyrinthine alleys.

His senses intensified as he maneuvered through the labyrinth of obstacles, ranging from decaying wooden crates to slippery mud patches.

Every intricate twist and turn required his utmost vigilance, but he was determined to apprehend his target by any means possible.

A single misstep could cost him the chase, and he couldn't afford to lose the man. At the same time, a primal instinct started surfacing inside of him; he started feeling the elation of the chase.

That was a feeling he hadn't in a while and that was presumably triggered because this man was a member of the Crystal Cross gang.

The chase weaved through the poverty-stricken district's makeshift dwellings and dirty streets.

With lightning speed, the man with the mustache darted through a narrow passage, his figure blending seamlessly into the darkness.

With a last burst of speed, Erik closed the distance, his hand reaching out to grab the mustache man's collar. The man let out a cry of despair as Erik's fingers closed around him, his body going limp with defeat.

Erik's smile was unsettling, a strange gleam in his eyes. "Shall we play?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the man lying on the ground as if he were nothing more than a piece of meat.

***

Rebecca skidded to a halt beside them after five minutes, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. "Why did you leave me behind?!"

However, her breath caught in her throat as she stumbled upon the grisly scene. The mustache man lay on the ground, his body battered and bloodied, his eyes wide with terror.

Erik stood over him, his face hidden behind his mask, his fists clenched at his sides.

"What are you doing?" Rebecca gasped, her voice rising in shock and disbelief.

Erik turned to look at her, but the mask hid the man's expression. "Ensuring that he cooperates," he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion.

The mustached man sobbed uncontrollably, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.

"Stop it! Stop it!" he cried, his voice hoarse with pain and desperation. "I surrender! I will help you! But please stop it!"

Rebecca was ready to kill when she had to, but torture was something she didn't like.

Her mind reeled as she tried to comprehend what had just happened. She had known that Erik was capable of violence, but she had never seen him like this, so cold and detached, so willing to inflict pain. She wondered why.

"Erik," she whispered, her voice trembling, "It's ok; he said he is going to cooperate."

He turned to her; his mask made him look like a monster and his actions even more so. "I know, I made sure of that," he said, his voice low and chilling.

The woman's stomach churned, and she felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She looked down at the mustached man, his body broken and defeated, his eyes filled with terror and despair.

The mustached man's cries had subsided, his body limp and defeated as he lay in a pool of his own blood. He looked up at Erik, his eyes filled with fear and resignation, knowing that he had no choice but to cooperate.

Erik crouched down beside him, stared down at the defeated man on the ground, and issued a command, his voice cold and unyielding. "Bring us to your headquarters."

The man with the mustache, still recovering from the brutal beating he had endured, struggled to nod, his head filled with fear and obedience.

Slowly, with Erik's firm grip on his arm, he stumbled to his feet, wincing in pain.

The trio started walking through the streets, the mustache man leading the way, Erik's hand never leaving his arm.

Rebecca trailed behind, her mind still churning with conflicting emotions, her eyes darting around, on guard for any sign of danger.

The once majestic buildings in the vicinity now lay in ruins, creating a stark contrast to the glamorous parts of the city.

Graffiti adorned the walls, while garbage cluttered the ground, creating an unsightly scene.

The air was thick with the smell of rot and hopelessness, serving as a palpable reminder of the city's seedy underbelly.

After a tense and silent fifteen-minute walk, they arrived at a street where an unusually tall building loomed in the distance. It stood out from its surroundings, a beacon of power and authority in a landscape of ruin and despair.

"That's it," the mustache man said, his voice trembling as he pointed at the building. "That's our base of operation here in Testrovsc's Rest."

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