Holan was a member of the Plague Church, originally a homeless drifter who got by through deceit and swindling.
However, some time ago, he had encountered a benefactor of sorts in his life, or so he believed.
The individual was a man dressed in black robes, who claimed to be the Death Messenger.
Wasn’t that one of the Apocalypse Four Horsemen?
Holan had scoffed at this, convinced the man was just experiencing some adolescent fantasy, playing a role-playing game.
Yet, when the man demonstrated the strength to shatter a wall with a single punch right in front of him, Holan was profoundly shaken.
After witnessing such extraordinary strength, Holan immediately submitted himself to this man in black robes.
Being a small-time thug who coveted personal valour, how could he remain indifferent now that he had the chance to access the legendary Extraordinary Power?
Right there and then, under the persuasive guidance of the man, he joined the secretive organization, and after subsequent indoctrination, he became a loyal member.
Moreover, the Plague Church, through some connections, had planted him inside this power plant to work, all part of a plan for the future.
Today, that plan was officially set in motion.
Holan received a mission from his superiors - complete it successfully, and he would be rewarded with a potion that could grant him immense strength.
He had once witnessed with his own eyes a comrade undergo astonishing transformations upon injection of that medicine, obtaining a level of strength entirely unattainable to normal people.
Although his comrade’s appearance had changed a lot, none of that mattered.
In the eyes of the brainwashed Holan, only true strength was worth pursuing.
Now, he just had to wait for the fat man in front of him to open the control center door, then he would backstab his "good brother," shutting down the city’s power grid, and the mission would be accomplished.
As he watched Saplin earnestly opening the door, a cruel smile involuntarily appeared on Holan’s face.
Killing people? He had done it more than once during his time with the organization.
"Holan, you know, I’m here on solo shifts, and it gets especially boring at night. I’ve run out of good movies to watch recently, and the speakers I brought are busted, they come on and off, sometimes even playing music on their own, keeping me awake at night..."
Saplin fiddled with the door lock while rambling on about something.
Just as he was about to unlock the final door, he suddenly stopped, turned around with a puzzled look, and stared at Holan.
Seeing this, Holan grew nervous.
"No, this isn’t right... Holan, were you lying to me just now?"
Saplin said with some hesitation.
Upon hearing this, Holan’s expression suddenly changed.
"Why is he asking this all of a sudden? Did he discover my identity? No, that’s not possible, I’ve been hiding it so well; where did I slip up?"
Alarms were going off in Holan’s head, and his muscles tensed.
Saplin, seemingly oblivious to the change in Holan’s expression, continued to speak to himself:
"You’re definitely lying, Holan. I just remembered, Anise Bar is in the South District, and this is the north side. You said you happened to pass by and wanted to bring me something to eat – that’s obviously a lie! You can’t fool me!"
The more he spoke, the more agitated he became, with a faint hint of excitement.
Yet to Holan, his words thundered like an explosion.
"So that’s it, I’ve been exposed, damn it! The excuse I made up on the spot doesn’t fool him after all! He’s seen through it!"
Panic flashed across his face for a moment before being replaced by a fierce expression.
"Heh, found out or not, since you’re so clever, I’ll just have to persuade you to open the door another way."
With that thought, Holan slowly drew a handgun from his waist, aiming it at the fat figure in front of the door.
Meanwhile, Saplin continued from where he left off, speaking the rest of his thoughts aloud.
"Holan! You didn’t just happen to buy it for me; you knew I liked these snacks, so you went out of your way to bring them to me. You really are my... good..."
Before he could finish, he saw the dark muzzle of a gun pointed right at his forehead.
Saplin stuttered out the last two words, his expression gradually stiffening.
"Damn it, this idiot wanted to say that!"
Holan cursed under his breath, but now that the gun was out, he had no choice but to proceed with plan B.
"Saplin, you stupid swine, who’s your good brother? Open the door and let me in, or I’ll blow your brains out."
He spoke viciously, his features twisted, nothing like a good brother.
Frightened, Saplin shuddered and quickly raised his hands, unable to fathom how things went from brotherly to gun-pointing in an instant.
"Quit yapping! Open the door!"
Holan impatiently commanded, then fired a shot in another direction and fiercely struck him on the forehead.
It was only then that Saplin realized it was all real; this guy actually wanted to kill him!