Taken by the Mafia ✧⁠*⁠。

Episode 9

After several days locked up in the dark, suffocating chamber, Santa and Barcode were in a dire state. Perth had only given them two pieces of bread and two small bottles of water in all that time. Barcode, the younger of the two, had eaten, but Santa, despite his own hunger, gave all the bread to his brother, surviving only on water. The chamber was silent except for the occasional drip of water or rustle of movement, the atmosphere heavy and oppressive.

Barcode stirred from sleep, his body stiff from the cold, hard floor. As he blinked his eyes open, his gaze fell on Santa, his older brother, sitting a few feet away, trembling. The sight alarmed him. "Phi Ta?" Barcode called out softly, his voice groggy from sleep. He crawled over to Santa and placed a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

Santa was shaking, his body radiating unnatural warmth. His face, pale from days without proper food, was flushed, and sweat beaded on his forehead. Barcode's eyes widened with concern. "Phi? Phi!" he repeated, his voice rising in panic. He shook Santa lightly, trying to get a response, but his brother was barely conscious, his head lolling to the side.

Fear seized Barcode. He scrambled to his feet, rushing toward the door, and screamed, "Help! Somebody help!" His voice echoed through the thick walls, but he kept shouting, hoping that someone, anyone, would hear.

In another part of the mansion, Perth and Jeff had just returned from dealing with some mafia business the night before. Exhausted but alert, they walked through the front doors, ready to collapse into bed. The mansion was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of their dealings. But their moment of calm was shattered when they heard Barcode’s desperate cries from the chamber.

Perth rolled his eyes, immediately annoyed. "What does that brat want now?" he muttered, his frustration evident.

Jeff, more composed but with a cold edge to his voice, glanced at Perth. "Let’s go check on them," he said, his tone implying it was more of an obligation than concern. Perth huffed but followed Jeff as they made their way down to the chamber.

When they reached the door, Barcode’s frantic cries became clearer. Jeff, his gaze cold and unfeeling, knocked on the door with authority before unlocking it. "What do you want?" Jeff asked, his voice emotionless.

Barcode rushed to the doorway, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "My brother… he’s sick," he stammered, pointing toward Santa, who was slumped against the wall, barely conscious.

Jeff and Perth exchanged a brief look before Jeff nodded, stepping inside to see for himself. Perth, not wanting to seem concerned, walked in after him and crouched down beside Santa. He pressed the back of his hand against Santa’s forehead and frowned. "He’s burning up," Perth muttered, his frustration masked by a sliver of worry.

Jeff quickly left for the kitchen, intent on finding medicine. Meanwhile, Perth headed to the nearby bathroom to grab a small towel, soaking it in cold water. He returned to the chamber, preparing to undress Santa to cool his body down.

Barcode, watching Perth’s movements, suddenly became protective. "What are you doing?" Barcode asked, his voice shaky with fear.

Perth scoffed, his tone biting but not harsh. "I’m going to wipe your brother’s body with water to help him cool down. Do you want him to get better or not?"

Barcode, still hesitant, slowly nodded, realizing that Perth was, in his own way, trying to help. Perth then began to undress Santa, pulling off his shirt to reveal his pale, almost translucent chest. As Perth wiped Santa’s fevered skin with the cool towel, his touch was surprisingly gentle, contrasting with the harshness of his earlier demeanor.

Just then, Jeff returned with a bottle of medicine and a glass of water. He handed them to Barcode, who quickly knelt beside his brother. "Phi, wake up," Barcode pleaded, shaking Santa’s body gently. After a few tense moments, Santa’s eyes fluttered open. He groaned, weak from hunger and fever, but with Barcode’s help, he managed to sit up, his body swaying slightly.