Underground Exchange.
"Do you know Barmulodi?"
"Who doesn't? A group of maniacs with submachine guns, screaming 'For Barmulodi!' while shooting like lunatics."
"My god, it's madness. In the past two weeks, they've wiped out the City Council, the Ninety-Nine, the Gambino Mafia branch, and the Brotherhood."
"They took over the biker gang's system factory, seized the Satan's Hell ordnance workshop, and even the Rose Blood Gang practically threw themselves at them in joy. First Blood, Jack Gang, Dark Chief, Secret Organization, the Chopping Hand Club, the Hell Club, the Giant Gang, the Mafia, the Vietnam Gang, the Jagged Banner Club, the Angel Gang, the Hell Club, even the foreign branches of the Thirteen Covenants, they've all been smashed."
"They said no gang can establish contact points in this area without their permission. Drug production, weapons manufacturing, loans, protection fees, prostitution, all of it belongs to them now."
"Damn… this is insane and exciting. They're going up against the entire world!"
"Their boss must be out of his mind. How could he possibly fend off the retaliation of so many forces? Some of the ones they've destroyed even hired professional killers."
"It's just a flash in the pan!"
"They'll be wiped out soon."
"The suicide slum has always been , ever since the metropolitan central cities were established."
"No one can change that."
"No one can survive going up against the entire Metropolis at once."
"Not necessarily. I heard the boss of Barmulodi is unstoppable. They say his body is invulnerable, harder than steel, and his strength is inhuman. He stormed into the headquarters of the City Council, the Ninety-Nine, the Gambino Mafia branch, and the Brotherhood, all on his own, and killed their bosses in front of their men before taking over."
"Yeah, I heard the Gambino Mafia even tried using a rocket launcher on him, and it didn't work. He walked out of the blast and crushed their boss."
"And the City Council boss? He tried escaping in a helicopter. Know what happened?"
"The boss of Barmulodi stepped out of a massive crater, leaped more than a dozen floors, and kicked the helicopter out of the sky. The entire suicide slum saw it—saw the helicopter explode in midair. And he just stood there, on the high building under the full moon, his white coat glowing, looking down on the world like a god."
"That night, the entire suicide slum went crazy. They screamed and shouted, 'For Barmulodi!'"
"The whole slum lost its mind."
"They're all shouting for Barmulodi now."
"He's conquered the suicide slum."
"But here? This is the Underground Exchange."
"Exactly. No one can touch the Underground Exchange. It represents the upper-class elites of the Metropolis—the nobles, the government, the police. How could he dare to fight here?"
Suddenly, a massive explosion shook the ground. The buildings on the surface of the Underground Exchange were instantly reduced to rubble. Black smoke and flames billowed into the air as armed men swarmed in from every direction, pouring in like a hive.
As dawn broke, the first traces of light, the pale white of the fish belly sky, stretched across the horizon.
In the heart of the suicide slum, an old tower stood in a square. Known as the Tower of Babylon, it was a rare imitation landmark in this rundown district.
Bardi sat on the balcony at the very top of the Tower of Babylon. His white trench coat billowed in the wind behind him, as small whirlwinds of sand swirled and dissipated around his feet.
He was in a great mood. Humming a cheerful tune, a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he gazed into the distance. From his vantage point, he could see the remnants of the Underground Exchange still smoldering, the fiery aftermath of the explosions and the chaos of the battle. Faint echoes of gunfire and the thunderous roar of "For Barmulodi!" carried through the air.
Bardi drummed his fingers against the corroded stone balcony rail, the rhythmic taps echoing faintly. The surface was pockmarked and weathered, as if eroded by countless droplets of water over time.
The gunfire at the Underground Exchange quieted, gradually fading into silence.
As the pale light of dawn began to recede, a golden glow appeared on the horizon. The sun peeked over the edge of the world, its rays spreading warmth across the clouds, painting them in brilliant gold. Shafts of sunlight pierced the sky, illuminating everything.
The first beam of sunlight struck Bardi's face. His humming stopped as the energy of the sun seeped into his body. He could feel it, his cells drinking in the sunlight like nourishing milk, absorbing and thriving under its rays.
Bardi stood, his smile widening into a confident grin. His fists clenched tightly, and his chest swelled as he breathed in the morning air.
Deep within his pupils, a faint red light flickered. His eyes itched as energy surged through him, making his muscles tense.
Tears welled up in his eyes, spilling from his tear ducts before evaporating almost instantly, leaving behind a faint mist. The flickering red light in his eyes grew brighter, hotter, and more intense.
Bardi's teeth clenched as he fought against the fiery sensation in his eyes. The veins around them darkened to red, glowing like molten metal. Every cell in his body seemed to awaken, releasing energy that coursed through his veins like rivers of fire. The energy surged toward his retinas, converging in his eyes like countless electric currents flowing into a single circuit.
His eyes turned fully red, burning with heat and power.
Bardi raised his head high.
Below, the sound of marching boots echoed as Barmulodi's forces swarmed the streets, converging on the Tower of Babylon. From every alley and corner, they poured forth in a black tide, their gazes fixed upward.
On the balcony, Bardi stood tall, framed by the golden light of the rising sun.
And then they witnessed the impossible.
Bardi tilted his head back, his trench coat rippling in the wind. His powerful chest heaved as he let out a thunderous roar:
His crimson eyes glowed, and with a deafening crack, two blazing beams of red-hot energy erupted from his eyes, tearing through the sky.
The crimson beams ripped apart the sky, cutting through the golden clouds above.
The spectacle lasted for half a minute before the beams faded, retreating back into his eyes. Bardi closed them briefly, then reopened them, his gaze calm and piercing as he surveyed the suicide slum below.
The faces of Barmulodi's followers glowed with madness and fervor, their faith in him solidified.
Bardi smiled warmly, the sunlight bathing him in gold as his hair and coat fluttered in the wind. The scene was divine.