Dangerous Resurrection

CHAPTER 20

I created a broadcast channel on Instagram — you can join there! Just search for my name: irzsmcie, or click the link in my message box.

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——— L I V I N G H E L L ———

"New here?" He asked, walking up to me without hesitation. He took a drag from his cigarette, and my eyes followed the curling smoke.

"Yeah," I replied simply, my tone even.

"Braldhon" He introduced himself, holding out a hand. "Dhan Braldhon." Dugtong nya.

I smiled and reached out to shake his hand. "Livinghell..." I trailed off, katulad ng ginawa nya "Livinghell Atenea Grianzy" His brows drew together at my name.

"A noble?" He asked. I just nodded.

"Forgive me for not knowing you..." He shook his head, still frowning. "Truth is... I don't really know any nobles at all." I laughed a little.

"Hmm... that's a new one." I said, amused. He just shrugged.

"Because I don't care about nobles. Who are they, anyway? They've got titles because of their money, but we're all the same underneath. When they die, we'll all end up in hell together." He said plainly. I agreed — he spoke nothing but the truth.

"How can you be so sure we'll meet in hell?" I asked with a smirk.

He looked at me again, took another drag, then chuckled. "I know how nobles operate. It's all dirty. Their wealth comes from wickedness." I held his gaze.

"Am I right?"

"Yeah. You are." I said simply.

"You smoke?" He asked. I nodded. He held out a pack, and I took one quickly.

"Got a lighter?" I said.

"Forgot where I put it." He said. So instead, he held out his lit cigarette, and I used it to light mine.

"Gonne race?" He asked again.

"Yeah."

"Where's your QR?" I immediately showed him the code on my phone.

As time passed, more and more people noticed me — phones were raised, pictures and videos taken. Some were even live-streaming, showing me to everyone watching the race.

"Follow that lane. Two laps left, then you're up. After that, the winner of each round head-to-head in the final." He explained. I listened quietly.

"Five racers. Five laps. Five rounds." He added, taking another drag.

He signaled for me to pull my car to the side, and I did. While waiting for the second round, he introduced me to his friends.

They looked like a gang — and he was clearly the leader. Everyone respected him, bowed their heads to him. They were all big, built, covered in tattoos. But Braldhon was the most heavily marked of them all.