Chapter 6: Bowing To The Divine Lord

The private room stank of blood and fear. Byron stood in the center like a demon, bodies sprawled around him. His ice-cold stare pinned Eugene. His voice was low and unyielding. "Kneel." The word hit Eugene like a sledgehammer. Sweat broke out on his forehead. His hands shook. He never imagined this young man would dare order him to his knees. He was a big deal in Zerton, after all, the head of the Drumgon Society. "W-What did you say?" he blustered, his bravado brittle. Byron's eyes narrowed, the chill in them deepening. "Kneel. You laid hands on my sister. You know the price." A wave of cold shot from Eugene's feet to the top of his head. Even so, a man like him didn't bend easily. As he hesitated, a clatter of footsteps rushed up outside. "Hurry!" A squad of gunmen stormed in. They wore black tactical gear, eyes cold. Their rifles gleamed coldly. Within seconds, they had Byron surrounded, dark muzzles trained on him. "Boss!" one of them called. Seeing his men, Eugene straightened, his heart swelling with borrowed courage. He jabbed a finger at Byron. "Kid, I'll grant you've got some guts, but times have changed. You think you can beat guns? Today I'll have your arms and legs chopped off, and you'll learn what crossing me costs." Byron glanced around the circle of gunmen. He showed no fear, only contempt. "These toys? You think they can threaten me?" The leader stepped up and pressed his rifle muzzle to Byron's forehead. "Do yourself a favor and get on your knees, kid, or we'll paint the walls with your brains." Byron's mouth curled in a thin, mocking smile. "Go on. Pull the trigger." Another rush of footsteps sounded outside just as things were about to blow. Bang! The door flew open under a boot. Porter appeared in the doorway with a crew of hard-faced men. He wore a long black coat, gray at the temples, hawk-like eyes sweeping the room. Authority rolled off him without a word. Behind him, dozens of black-suited bodyguards stood expressionless, as silent as a row of grim reapers. Eugene blanched at the sight of Porter. He hurried forward, bowing and fawning. "M-Mr. Farrell, what brings you here?" Porter didn't spare him a glance. His gaze locked on Byron. He strode up, holding out a token of dark metal, its dragon patterns glinting. "May I ask, is this something you lost?" He sounded respectful. Byron gave the Drakorn Token a brief look, lifted a brow, and said nothing. Eugene, nettled by Byron's silence, barked, "Kid, Mr. Farrell is talking to you. Are you deaf? Answer, or I'll make you regret it." Porter's brows drew together, displeasure flashing in his eyes. One of his lieutenants stepped up and slapped Eugene across the face. Smack! Eugene's head whipped to the side. A bright red mark bloomed on his cheek. He stared, stunned. "W-why did you hit me?" Another slap snapped his head the other way. The thug snarled, "Who do you think you are? In front of Mr. Farrell, you don't get to talk. Shut up." Eugene's face burned. Fury surged, but he swallowed it.  In Zerton, Porter was a kingpin across five cities and thirteen towns, with clout on both sides of the law. A minor boss like Eugene didn't dare pick that fight. Porter ignored him and repeated, even more respectful, "May I ask, is this something you lost?" Byron nodded slightly. "It's mine." At that, Porter dropped to one knee and bowed low. "I'm Porter Farrell, an outer-sect disciple of the Jever Sect. Greetings, Divine Lord." Everyone in the room froze in shock. Eugene's eyes bulged. The young man he had marked as an enemy had Porter on one knee, calling him Divine Lord. Behind Porter, the men in black also dropped down, voices rising in unison. "Greetings, Divine Lord." Their shout rolled through the room, solemn and heavy. Porter remained kneeling, head lowered. "Divine Lord, I came late. Please punish me." Byron took the Drakorn Token from his hand with a lazy motion. "I'm not familiar with Jever Sect. Get up. Go back where you came from." "Divine Lord." Porter looked up, shock breaking through his composure. Being this close to Byron made him tremble; the force coming off him was unmistakable. There was no mistake. This was the Divine Lord of the Jever Sect. After a beat, he nodded. "I understand. You are angry with me." He stood and turned his glare on Eugene. "Eugene, you've got some nerve, disrespecting the Divine Lord." Eugene had gone pale. He knew he'd slammed into a steel wall. "Mr. Farrell, I didn't know who he was. If I had, I wouldn't have dared, not even to save my life." Porter snorted. "Figure out how you're going to make this right." Thud. Eugene dropped to his knees and slammed his forehead against the floor. "Divine Lord, spare me. Divine Lord, spare me. I didn't know who I was dealing with. Please forgive me." Byron looked down at him without a trace of pity. "Weren't you strutting a minute ago? Afraid now?" Eugene shook. "Divine Lord, I was wrong. I swear I'll never dare again. If you spare me, I'll do anything for you." He was completely lost. "Your daughter humiliated my sister," Byron said, his voice quiet but crushing, "and even threatened to drag her here to turn tricks. So what are you going to do about it?" Sweat streamed down Eugene's face. Panic churned in his eyes. "Divine Lord, I… I truly didn't know she'd do something like that." Byron's eyes narrowed, colder still. "You didn't know? Now you do. How are you going to fix this?" Silence swallowed the room. No one dared breathe. Eugene gritted his teeth and made up his mind. He turned and shouted at his men, "Grab Emily and take her downstairs. Put her to work in the club." "Dad! You can't do this to me!" Emily's scream tore through the room. She never imagined her own father would sell her out to save his own skin. Two enforcers grabbed her. Ignoring her kicks and shrieks, they dragged her away. Her cries echoed down the hall, raw enough to twist the gut. Byron scoffed. "Eugene, you really are something. You'd sell your own daughter just to save your own skin." Eugene didn't care about pride anymore. He bowed again and again, forehead pounding the floor. "Divine Lord, I know I was wrong. I really know I was wrong. I'll give you everything I own if you let me live. I'll be your do; I'll do whatever you say." Blood seeped from his brow, staining the floor. The swagger of a local boss was gone. Byron looked at him, voice like ice. "I don't want your dirty money. Hand over $300,000 for what you put my sister through. Then this is over." Eugene looked as if he'd been pardoned. He nodded quickly. "Yes, I'll do it right away. Don't worry, Divine Lord, I'll have the money ready." Moments later, a henchman came over and handed Byron a credit card and the PIN. Byron took the card and didn't spare Eugene another glance. He turned and walked out of the room. Eugene lowered his head and slammed it against the floor again as Byron walked away. "Thank you, Divine Lord. Thank you for sparing my life." As soon as Byron stepped out, Porter signaled for his men to follow close behind. Only when everyone had gone did Eugene finally exhale and collapse to the floor.