Chapter 9: Ch9 and 3/4: Civilization II
[ Landon Ricketts POV ]
John's deep voice boomed through the room, echoing off the walls and sending a chill down my spine. I watched as he leveled his gun precisely at the man's face, his steely gaze unwavering.
"Claude Jarreau," he said, his voice dripping with menace. And with those two words, the air in the room seemed to thicken with tension.
"I have something to sell," John continued, his voice sounding low and dangerous.
"I heard you're the man to talk to about these things." He placed a solid gold bar on the counter with a heavy thud, and Jarreau's eyes widened at the sight of it. The man stood up, his movements cautious as he walked around the desk to inspect the bar closely.
"Where did you get this?" Jarreau asked, suspicion tingeing his voice.
"None of your business," John's voice was low and menacing, sending a shiver down my spine. "The only thing that concerns you is whether or not you're going to buy it."
Jarreau hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between the gleaming gold bar and John's intense gaze, which was now laced with suspicion.
"I'll give you two hundred dollars for it," he finally said, holding out a hand.
Suddenly, a silent sharp 'bang' echoed through the room, followed by a thin wisp of smoke from John's gun.
My heart raced as I watched the bullet effortlessly penetrate the thick wooden shelf behind Jarreau, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. I couldn't believe the power that emanated from the weapon, sending a chill down my spine.
As if that wasn't enough, John grabbed Jarreau by the collar and shoved the barrel of his gun inside his mouth. I held my breath, unsure of what was about to happen next.
"How much?" John countered, his voice still low and menacing as before.
Jarreau looked like he was about to protest, but John cut him off with a cold threat. "I just need one bullet and end you right here. No one would notice."
Jarreau's body tensed up as John's deep voice penetrated the whole room. As John press the barrel slightly at his mouth, Jarreau's muscles grew rigid, and his hands trembled with fear.
His breaths came in short gasps, and he tried to take a step back, but John hold him in place. His eyes darted around the room in a desperate search for a way out. The color drained from his face, leaving him looking ashen and vulnerable.
After a moment's hesitation, Jarreau finally gave in with a low mumble of "hm" while a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. His eyes flicked nervously between the gold bars and John's intense gaze.
"I-I'll give you a thousand dollars for it. But you will never come back here again!" Jarreau repeated, his voice tinged with a mix of trepidation and reticence.
However, the unexpected turn of events continued to unfold as John shocked both Jarreau and me. One by one, he placed another gold bar onto the counter, then another, and another, until three stacks of six gold bars each towered before us.
My heart raced as I did the mental calculation. 'That's $18,000!' I screamed inside my mind, my throat dry as I struggled to contain my shock.
The room fell silent as Jarreau and I looked on in awe, wondering where John had acquired such a vast fortune in gold. After a few moments, John broke the silence.
"$20,000," he said, his voice echoing with firmness.
Jarreau's eyes widened at the steep price, his face screaming 'You basically rob me!' but John's gaze never faltered. After a moment's hesitation, Jarreau finally relented. "Fine..." he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
John's piercing gaze remained fixed on Jarreau's face as he pocketed the money, his gun never leaving its target.
"Berlin," he growled, jolting me out of my stupor. "Search this place. This guy deals in human trafficking. There must be something here."
Widening my eyes, I wasted no time and scoured every inch of the room, but found no one besides us. As I looked at John with a quizzical expression, he nodded towards a small room with only a bookshelf inside.
"Search that shelf. Find any book that's cleaner than the others," he said, causing Jarreau to tremble in fear.
"No... anything but that..."
Ignoring his mumbling, I proceeded to the room and began inspecting the books. After a few moments, I finally found it - a red book titled "The Life of Frederick Douglass."
The second I slightly pulled the book from the shelf, a low screeching sound of gears could be heard, and the shelf slid open to reveal a dark, ominous-looking stair, leading to the basement.
Looking at John, I give him a nod as I went down, with my lantern in front of me leading the way.
As I descended the stairs, my heart raced with anticipation and fear, my lantern casting eerie shadows on the walls. But nothing could have prepared me for the horror that awaited me in the basement.
Steel chains hung from the walls, stained with dried blood, and the stench of death permeated the air.
Dark brown mucus clung to the walls, a sickening reminder of the atrocities that had been committed here. My stomach churned, and I fought the urge to vomit as I surveyed the scene before me.
My hands trembled as I held the lantern, and my breaths came out in ragged gasps. My eyes darted around the room, taking in every grisly detail, but I couldn't bring myself to look at the chains for too long.
My legs felt like lead, as if they were dragging me down, but I forced myself to take slow, measured steps forward.
Every sound echoed and magnified in the silent basement, making my heart skip a beat. I swallowed hard, trying to suppress the bile that rose in my throat, and willed myself to keep going.
In the next instant, even before I took a half step, a groan emanated from the corner of the room. Then, a hoarse voice spoke out, and I could feel the dryness of their throat in the air.
"¿Quién está ahí?" one of them said, squinting as my lantern illuminated them. There were four of them, and when they noticed me, they spoke again, their voices filled with a glimmer of hope.
"Ayúdanos, por favor..." said the one in the middle, who had a more well-shaped build than the others. "Por favor, señor, ayúdenos con estas cadenas."
Although I didn't understand their language, I knew what they wanted.
They craved freedom.
***
[ John Wick POV ]
As Ricketts remained in the basement, I focused my attention on Jarreau, eyeing him closely and keeping a watchful eye on the front door. "How closely are you connected to the government in your line of work?" I asked him, my voice firm and unwavering.
Jarreau's eyes widened in fear as he stammered, "Wha-"
I cut him off with a shot fired next to his ear, my tone brooking no argument. "I ask, you answer. No lie," I warned him.
"T-they didn't bother us much, as long as I paid them some money," he finally replied, beads of sweat rolling down his neck.
'us?' I thought as I continue, "Where I can buy some ship without them knowing?"
"Everything about sea can be bought or found at Van Horn Trading Post," sweat still rolling down his neck,
As I continued to interrogate him, I learned some places to purchase everything from land to even a gun, a lot of guns.
I fired off question after question, determined to gather as much information as possible before leaving
"Last question, to whom do you plan to sell them?" Mentioning with my head as I point towards the individuals tailing Ricketts from the basement
"I-it's..." his eyes dart back and forth between me and the barrel of my gun. Finally, with a shout, he reveals the name, "Fine! you Cocksucker! it's Michel Bronte!" He shouts.
Jarreau's hands tremble as he stammers out the name, sweat dripping down his forehead. He backs away from me, his eyes filled with terror, as if he expects me to shoot him at any moment.
His breathing is ragged and shallow, and his body quivers with fear. I can see the panic in his eyes as he realizes the gravity of what he has just revealed.
"I'm done for..." his whisper at the end of his outburst was the last thing I heard before we step out completely from that place.
***
While Ricketts, the four new people, and I made our way through the winding streets of Saint Denis, Ricketts keep looking at me with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.
"So this is your 'personal reason' for coming here?" he exclaimed.
"What in the world are you planning to do with all that?" added Ricketts his voice borderline shouting, while the other four of Ricketts's new goons just look at us with clueless expressions while talking with each other from time to time.
"You will know in due time," I said, looking at the sun that was already at her lowest, I added,
"I just plan to go home..." I whisper under my breath
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Tbyte
Tbyte First thing first tbh, I cut chapter 9 intentionally as you can see that chapter didn't even reach 2k words even tho the others reach 3k or more, and I want to say something like this along the line, in the comment section;
"I'm sorry, but the Author wants to take some time to write more chapters first, see you again," John said with a disappointed voice.
but some of you still thank me for the chapters, and when I read bythgr review, I felt really bad to pause a novel that somebody loved just so I can write more and put it on Patreon.
well, damn Patreon then, I will just have fun with this one, and write another story at later date for my Patreon
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