The Lords against DJ

DJ in the dungeon

DJ was in a pure dilemma now that the main purpose of the longest journey to Malia was glaring in his face. The boy was distressed like he used to be in such situations, the anxiety that had left him for a while was back, nagging at his brainstrings and pulling them to their own desires.

The young detective had almost forgotten about the real deal of coming to Malia. Trips to small surrounding villages, the hustle and bustle of the excitement for the upcoming festival, and the change of environment from all dangerous and commanding to much more relaxed and calm made him forget the fact that his life was at risk.

It was all flowers and giggles until they lasted, until the anonymous caller had served him his reasons for which he had come to Malia. The caller claimed Jerry's wellbeing yet he had thrusted the boy into one of the most dangerous circumstances where he had to come across Chevy one way or the other.

DJ wasn't really sure whether to think of the situation as a 'well-being' or a revenge that had been planned for him for whatever reasons.

Tears pricked his eyes and he wiped them aggressively as he packed his minimal belongings in his bag. The boy was devastated with his situation and although Jerry didn't know what was coming in his way but being the scaredy cat he was; the young detective was scared shitless.

After mapping out his plan to reach the location, DJ checked out the inn with his newly made wealth and his other belongings.

The first stop he decided was a run-down, rackety structure of a building. The old structure looked unfinished only it wasn't unfinished but was wrecked badly by local gangs against a feud between them.

The purpose of stopping there was to acquire something that DJ would be needing in future. The young detective stood in the centre of the grey structure and waited intending to procure a lethal weapon that could serve good than his good old, rusty dagger attached to his hip.

A dealer, whom Jerry got to know about from sources he had made in Malia, was ready to provide the old Alberto with an old-fashioned, thinly made, black and brown revolver.

Jerry had discerned the fact that a small dagger wouldn't be of much help if the situation, according to him, didn't go as planned. He needed some kind of surety before he stepped inside the territory even Malians were terrified to trespass.

As he watched in the distance with his mind playing several scenarios, his sight was filled with a figure that was far away but was approaching him slowly. DJ watched in anticipation, he could feel a sense of daring and borderline badass erupting in his stomach for a split second.

But at the same time, his heart was going feral in the presence of a potentially strong and dangerous man who was going to converse with him.

"Alberto?" the man asked snatching DJ from his raging mind. He securitized the old man's frame up and down as if trying to find something that was perhaps odd.

DJ nodded his head in affirmation.

"did ya bring my money pal?" the man asked looking deeply into those innocent doe eyes behind the prescription glasses.

"d-did yo-you bring wh-what I had as-asked for?" Jerry questioned instead, making himself sound rude and old. He tried to compose his laboured breathing behind his disguise as he portrayed a character that was confident and ready to deal.

The man chuckled with a smirky face as he pulled out a red-coloured sack from behind his back. He switched it between his hands, purposely waving it in front of Alberto.

"I did......." The man sang. DJ reached his hand out for the sack but the man pulled it back with another unamused chuckle.

"my money first" he said and DJ rolled his eyes internally.