God of Crime: Strongest Mafia Boss



Miguel Fernandez was tired.

His face was haggard and his steps were unsteady and labored.

This was something he would normally never show to anyone. But the last few hours had been some of the most tiring few he had to overcome in his entire life. Even being chased by the vampire mafia back in the days when he was still a newbie hadn't been so mentally tiring as the past few hours that he had to live through.

After the unknown guy played his game and was called up to their room above, everything went dark for all of them.

What preceded the Darkness was a mental shock that filled him with a fear of death so great that he was sure that he would never be able to wake up again from this eternal dream…

When he did wake up though, in the end, he immediately transferred his brother to their home and made sure to protect him until he had woken up too from his death induced nightmarish slumber.

"How is my brother?"

"The boss is right up."

Taking off his suit, Miguel massaged his wrists slowly. His rather muscular frame could be seen bursting from his tight fit shirt.

After all, while he was not a front-line fighter anymore, he knew the importance of keeping his body in shape and keeping himself prepared for any and all moments.

Like now—

Bang~!

Immediately ducking aside, Miguel avoided the bullet that came from behind him, and with an acrobatic movement of his lower limbs, he kicked the hand of the assailant, pushing away the gun from his hand.

Immediately after, rolling on the ground with his entire body, he sprang back up and collided with the assailant using his back before immediately turning on his heels and holding him so tightly in a full-body choke hold that he was sure he was capable of breaking every single bone on the body of the assailing man.

"Who are you and what have you done to my subordinate?"

"Heh. I am pretty sure he is alright. Don't worry. Just put him to sleep temporarily."

"You… Who are you?"

Miguel gritted his teeth in anger, knowing full well that people like this man were just pieces that could be thrown away at any moment. There was no way they could say anything.

"My boss is waiting for you upstairs with your brother. What you are going to do about it is your choice. But if you flee… My boss is going to be very disappointed and if he is disappointed…"

Miguel's eyes moved as he looked at his house.

Normally it was the place that allowed him to feel security and calm at the deadly hours of the night. But now, he felt like it looked like the maws of a giant beast ready to devour him whole on a single mistake.

He thought about his options in this precarious scenario long and hard.

The smartest thing to do was to retreat and gather his troops. Whoever was attacking him was very prepared.

But—

"Take me to your boss."

Miguel stood up and opened his hand wide in a sign of surrender.

This action seemed to surprise even the goon who looked at him strangely. "It seems like you two are closer than I expected."

Miguel clicked his tongue, unwilling to speak more than what was absolutely necessary.

He simply followed the man inside the building.

On the way, he watched as his gang members were all standing still or talking with each other in a leisurely manner.

The way they acted was as if they could not even see them, as if they were completely invisible to their eyes.

While Miguel didn't know what was going on right now, he could only curse as he realized that the enemy wasn't just someone from the criminal world but rather someone who was also part of the supernatural world.

'Just who is targeting us right now?'

It didn't seem like it was the shapeshifters this time. Those bastards would generally just rush in head-on and destroy everything on their path until they were stopped or satisfied by the carnage they wrought.

"You don't need to tire your little head. You will soon receive answers to all your questions."

Miguel sighed and continued to walk along with the assailant. At the very least, it didn't seem like they were likely to die anytime soon.

.

.

.

When they finally reached the door of his main office, the man knocked on the door and spoke loudly, "Don, we are here."

"...Enter."

Miguel was speechless at the absurdity. This was supposed to be his own house after all. But he simply chose to keep his mouth shut and opened the door.

In the room, at first, nothing but darkness could be seen entering one's vision. But soon, one small slight flame lit up and flashed toward the center of the room.

There, Miguel was able to see his bureau with the chair turned to show its back.

"Don, we are here."

"Hum…"

The chair slowly turned and Miguel gulped a little when he saw someone that was entirely covered in a black cloak while holding a black cat on his lap and gently caressing it.

"Tell me, young man, do you know why I called you here?"

Miguel's breath hitched, he found this situation absolutely ridiculous. His fist tightened and he had to give his all to not just jump out and try to punch the man.

"You… Do you think this is some Italian mafia movie?"

"Heh… Did I do it wrong then?"

"I told you everything is in the tone. You don't sound Italian enough."

"What the hell does it even mean to sound Italian? Stereotypes much?"

Miguel watched in disbelief as the subordinate and his boss argued against each other about some nonsensical trope, completely disregarding his existence as something invisible.

"You!"

"Shut up."

Miguel immediately clamped his mouth shut. Feeling a chill run down his spine at those words.

"Sigh. The tension is destroyed now. I guess I played enough for now."

"What…"

Miguel could only watch as the man next to him grinned at him before slowly fading away.

It wasn't all.

The floor, the room, everything seemed to vanish like a painting that was splashed with water.

In the end, all that was left was a completely white room with a man whose face he could not see, draped in black and looking at him leisurely.

If before, Miguel still had a little hope of escaping…

Now, he had to summon all his courage so that his legs would not give out under him.

"Who… Who are you?"

His lips were dry and he could feel a lump in his throat, making it difficult for him to even speak coherently.

"Who am I?"

A small laugh escaped from the lips of the man in the dark.

"I hear this question every damn time. Who am I? I am many things, I wear many masks. But for you? Heh —"

From beneath the cloak, he could see nothing. Not even his face, it was as if darkness had completely devoured everything that could be seen by the eyes of the mysterious man.

"—I… am Death…"

(AN: Still hesitating between Midnight Prince and Death for Adam final's criminal name. Though Midnight Prince does sound more dope. I don't know. Perhaps I should add Black Death? But then that's just the plague.)