The Conqueror Of Cities!-Chapter 8: The Mission

Eman looked at me with concern after I revealed his first task. "But Dionis, what if I get caught?" he asked anxiously, while sitting in the couch.

I gazed directly into his eyes and responded confidently, assuring him, "Don't worry, my plan is foolproof. If we execute it perfectly, neither of us will be caught."

He quickly regained his confidence and replied, convinced, "Sure, bro. Even if I do get caught, I'm protected by the child protection law. I won't go to jail; I'll only have to do some service work for some months. Hahaha."

I was taken aback by his response. Eman was smarter than I had initially thought. He was right; it was nearly impossible for a 15-year-old in our country to be imprisoned.

Despite knowing that executing this plan would harm the man and jeopardize his career, I proceeded anyway. I was astounded by my ability to devise such a clever plan.

"Eman, today is the day we begin our mission."

"Fuck, Dionis. I'm nervous. What if we fail? What if the police catch us? What if the old man dies..." Eman's voice trembled with fear as an overwhelming shower of negative thoughts plagued his mind, worsening his anxiety.

"Shut your mouth, bro. None of that will happen as long as I'm here," I assured him firmly.

Although still scared, Eman agreed. We finally arrived at the secluded forest road that I had carefully selected. The area was enveloped in a dense cluster of trees, shielding us from prying eyes or surveillance cameras. We positioned ourselves behind the trees, patiently waiting for an opportunity to strike. Hours passed, and we saw no one who walked through the forest path that appeared to have money. We contemplated giving up and heading home for the day, but just at the right moment a businessman suddenly walked past the forest road. It was the first time I had seen him, and I couldn't risk losing such a valuable target. As he walked past our concealed location, I cautiously emerged from behind the trees and seamlessly transitioned into a jogging pace, closing the distance between us.

"Hello, sir. What's your name?" I inquired.

"My name is Lenart," he replied with a confused expression, stopping in this track.

"That's an interesting name. Hahaha. Where are you from?" I asked, trying to engage him in conversation.

"I'm from Ljubljana. Now, excuse me," he responded, starting to walk away.

I couldn't let such a prey escape, so I acted innocently, saying, "Before you go, would you mind giving me your number?"

Lenart, clearly annoyed, replied, "You don't need my number. Now, leave me alone."

Feeling a sense of desperation, my mind raced with the realization that Lenart was our only viable option. My judgment clouded by the urgency of the situation, I acted recklessly, knowing I had to take matters into my own hands. With a heavy sigh, I bid Lenart farewell, concealing my true intentions behind a facade of friendliness.

"Okay, it was nice to meet you, Lenart," I uttered, my voice ignoring the panic brewing within. As I gradually distanced myself, I discreetly motioned to Eman, silently conveying my command with a hand movement. Eman saw the movement and quickly wore the mask and gloves I had provided. He then emerged from the shadows, ready to execute his part.

With stealth and precision, Eman silently approached Lenart from behind, wielding a baseball bat. The air thickened with tension as time momentarily seemed to stand still. In one swift and brutal motion, Eman struck Lenart forcefully on the back of his head, the resounding crack through the forest.

"Fuck fuck fuck! He's bleeding, Dionis. What the fuck are we going to do now?" Eman exclaimed in a panicked voice.

"Eman, shut up and take everything he has," I commanded.

As Eman stole Lenart's belongings with shaking hands, I calmly putted my rubber gloves on and pulled Lenarts phone from his pocket, calling an ambulance and reporting that someone had been attacked and was bleeding from the head. While I may have engaged in evil doing, I never reached the point of allowing an innocent person to die… At least not at first.

Once we had taken everything valuable, we quickly ran to Eman's house.

Upon arriving, we inspected the stolen items. There was a watch worth around $500 and approximately $150 in cash. I felt pleased with the loot, but when I looked at Eman, I noticed he was trembling. Concerned, I asked him if he was alright, and he began to scream:

"Dionis that felling when I hit him with a baseball bat I can't get it out of my head! I-I'm scared" Eman confessed, his voice trembling with a mixture of guilt and fear. "the police probably knows i was the one that hit him. My parents will kill me. What the fuck am I suppose to do!"

Seeking to alleviate his growing anxiety, I reassured him with a calculated lie, aware that revealing the truth would only complicate matters further. "You're just paranoid Eman, the police have no way of knowing it was us. You did a perfect job, now let's just hope the person did not die."

I as well was a little worried about the police but that what made it fun for me. After a couple of minutes of telling him what he wanted to hear, I left his house and went home, the only place I felt safe.

That evening, as I sat down to dinner with my family, a dangerous sense of satisfaction washed over me. I wasted no time in capitalizing on our ill-gotten gains. My fingers eagerly navigated to the Facebook app, where I promptly created a new account and listed the stolen watch on the marketplace. Aware of the selling dynamics, I priced it at half of its original value, a tempting offer to potential buyers. Days passed, and with each passing moment, my anticipation mounted. Finally, I struck a deal with a buyer—a poor bastard that wanted to look good in front of some bitches. As the transaction concluded, I found myself holding a sum of $400, an exhilarating rush coursing through my veins. In that moment, I felt invincible, like a king on the verge of ascending to the throne. Unable to contain my jubilation, I let out a triumphant exclamation, basking in the illusion of power that now coursed through me.

"Hahahah this shit is awesome, ever since that coincidental encounter with weed, my heart has been filled with an eternal rush of adrenaline. Nothing can stand in my way; I will conquer every thing that dares to challenge me!" I proclaimed to no one but myself, my voice reverberating with a sense of triumph and delusion.

Little did I know that this newfound euphoria was momentary, a mere taste of the darkness that awaited me. The consequences of my actions loomed ominously on the horizon, ready to shatter the fragile illusion I had meticulously crafted. This illusion will last a long, long time.