Call me Akuma

"Tock, Tock." 

"Come in," said Mydoom. 

Standing at his door was a young woman—the informant he had sent to gather details about Akuma. 

"Did you bring the information? If so, hand it over quickly," Mydoom demanded impatiently. 

The young woman folded her arms and replied coolly, "Payment first." 

With an annoyed sigh, Mydoom begrudgingly sent her $10,000 to her bank account. After confirming the transaction on her device, she handed over a thick file of documents and began her report. 

"The boy's name is Max Ito. His father passed away in a work accident one year ago. As compensation, he received half a million dollars—a sum that struck me as odd, but I couldn't dig up further details on that incident," she began. 

She continued, "The bank account is registered under Max Ito's name. He dropped out of college a few months ago and has been staying at home ever since. He rarely leaves the house. The full details are in the document, but those are the key points you should know." 

Mydoom silently opened the file, his sharp eyes darting across its contents. A faint smirk curled his lips as he absorbed the information. He glanced at the young woman and said with feigned gratitude, "Thank you for your help. I'll call you again if I ever need your services." 

The young woman gave a polite bow and quietly left the office, her footsteps fading into silence. 

Now alone in his chair, Mydoom leaned back, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest. He muttered to himself, "From the information I've gathered, the boy seems depressed over his father's death. He's using the money to indulge in games, expensive food, toys, and parties—typical coping mechanisms." 

Pausing for a moment, he tilted his head and said mockingly, "What a poor boy." Then, as though a switch had been flipped, an evil grin spread across his face, and an uncontrollable, maniacal laugh erupted from his throat. 

"Ah! Ah! Ah! —Fucking shit! I've found a fat sheep—no, no, no—a fat whale willing to spend $200,000 in a game! If I can get even 20% of this boy's assets, I could finally have enough money to bring my family here and live peacefully for the rest of my life without worrying about work or finances." 

Mydoom's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light as his voice grew louder and more deranged. "I'll slowly scam this delicious fat whale until there's not even a single bone left! Oh, wait! - what I'm doing is wrong. I should kidnap this boy—it will be much easier. The boy has nobody to look for him, no one to notice if he's gone. If I can pull this off all the boys' assets will be mine." 

His laughter returned, louder and more unsettling than before. "Ah! Ah! Ah! WAAAHH..." 

With a wicked grin, Mydoom reached for his digital screen, swiftly dialing a number. Without hesitation, he made the call that would set his plan into motion—the kidnapping of Akuma. If everything went smoothly, the operation would be complete within a day or two. 

After finalizing all the plans, Mydoom noticed it was nearly midnight—the time when the boy's game would shut down as well. Exhausted, Mydoom removed his VRUK helmet and headed to bed. Just as he was settling in, his watch vibrated, signaling an emergency message. It was from one of his most trusted friends. 

Curious and concerned, Mydoom opened the message. It simply read: "Open the link I sent you." 

Without hesitation, Mydoom sprang out of bed, donned his VRUK helmet, and opened the link. What he saw made his blood boil. A video began to play, and as he watched, his anger flared uncontrollably. 

"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO NOOOO!!! MOTHERFUCKER!!!" he cursed loudly, his voice echoing with rage. "Why the fuck! Whhhhhhyh!!?" 

Panicking, Mydoom frantically tried to block or delete the video. But his efforts were in vain—Akuma had sent multiple copies of the video across several social media platforms, making it impossible to contain. Feeling a wave of helplessness wash over him, Mydoom screamed like a maniac, "Shit! Shit! SHIIIIITTTT!!!" 

The video showed Akuma openly exposing the black market, talking about it for a full ten minutes. Mydoom's mind raced as he tried to process the implications. "Was he trying to become some kind of hero by exposing the black market? Does he not realize the organization can escape with just a few bribes? Without evidence, nobody will believe him! All he's managed to do is endanger his life—and mine! Motherfucker!!! AAHHHHHH!!!" 

Mydoom ripped off the VRUK helmet, his heart pounding as the reality of the situation sank in, sweat dripping down his temples. The suspicion rating must have skyrocketed to level 10. The black-market organization would undoubtedly come for him. His hands moved frantically, grabbing his most important belongings while his mind cursed Akuma for dragging him into this dire mess. 

Akuma had not only opened the door of death for himself but for Mydoom as well. His carefully constructed life, years of effort and sacrifice, destroyed by one single boy. 

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK..." Mydoom cursed under his breath. 

As he shoved items into a bag, a flicker on his security monitor caught his eye. His breath hitched—several black-hooded men were already inside the house, moving with calculated precision. 

"Damn it!" Mydoom hissed under his breath. 

Time was up. He slammed the bag down, abandoning the plan to escape. Instead, he accessed his crypto bank, fingers trembling as he transferred his entire fortune—nearly $15 million—to an anonymous account linked to his family. Years of slaving away in the underworld, all for this one goal: to secure a better life for them. 

Mydoom had kept his family a secret, even from his closest friends. From the moment he entered the world of crime, he understood the cost of exposure. To protect them, he severed all ties, sacrificing his presence in their lives. Living happily with his family in the Arcologies had always been his dream, but as he watched that dream crumble, he couldn't hold back his tears from coming out. 

The sound of a door being kicked in jolted him back to reality. Mydoom opened a drawer, his fingers brushing against cold steel. He pulled out the handgun and pressed the barrel to his temple. 

"Forgive me, Mom," he whispered, closing his eyes as the approaching footsteps grew louder. 

"BANG!!!" 

------- 

"Could you wake up, sir?" 

Akuma stirred; his eyelids heavy as he woke. The scene before him was eerily familiar, as was the figure standing in front of him—the Angel of Afterlife. 

"Old man, why the hell are you here? And why am I here with you? Did I die again? If so, how? Shouldn't I be in a new world by now?" Akuma fired off his questions, his tone laced with irritation and confusion as he locked eyes with the Angel. 

"Calm yourself, sir," the Angel replied, his voice steady and patient. "My master will answer all your questions." 

Akuma frowned, his gaze darting around the pristine white room devoid of anything—or anyone. "Where is your master?" he asked skeptically. "I don't see anyone. Is he hiding?" 

The moment the question left his lips, the air around him shifted. A presence materialized, one beyond comprehension, and Akuma froze. The being that appeared was paradoxical in every sense. It was both light and darkness, order and chaos, existence and nonexistence—everything and nothing all at once. 

Akuma's mind reeled as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing, but the entity defied all logic, all understanding. It was as if the very fabric of reality had bent to accommodate something that should not, could not, exist. 

"I'm not hiding anywhere because I am everywhere, you motherfucking dickhead!" the being snapped, its voice booming with frustration. "I've had to stay away from my two beautiful wives for years to fix your stupid mess, you shithead!" 

The Angel of Afterlife, standing stoically to the side, cleared his throat and interjected, "Sir, watch your language. It's not appropriate for a being of your stature to use such words." 

The being shot him a sharp glare. "Shut the fuck up, old man." 

The Angel blinked, unfazed. "But, sir, you're older than me," he replied calmly. 

For a brief moment, the two stared at each other in silence, their faces locked in a comically intense standoff. Then, as if by unspoken agreement, they both turned their attention back to Akuma. 

Akuma, utterly lost in the bizarre exchange, looked at the incomprehensible being with confusion written all over his face. He didn't have the slightest idea what "mess" they were talking about. Hesitantly, he asked, "What mess did I make?" 

The being's form visibly shifted, radiating an air of annoyance so palpable that Akuma could feel it—though he had no idea how. 

"You," the being growled, its tone dripping with irritation, "destroyed multiple universes and even threatened the very fabric of existence." 

----

Also, Beggar King has left a few pop culture references and memes. If you find them, comment, and Beggar King will give you a like. 

If we reach 100 stones, I'll reward you all with a bonus chapter!