Chapter 81 – Drake
On the misty banks of the Hudson River, nestled within a cold, damp cave, snakes slithered across the floor, and scorpions crawled along the moss-slicked walls. The fetid air reeked of venom and decay.
In the heart of this den of vermin sat a haggard old man. A thick, gray-white python coiled around his frail body, its massive head resting on his shoulder as it slowly swallowed a scarlet-lettered scroll, its forked tongue flickering.
The old man's eyes were closed in deep meditation.
Suddenly, he jerked violently, spitting out a mouthful of dark blood.
"Ew!" he snarled, face twisted in pain and rage. "Who killed my colorful centipede?!"
In the next instant, three pallid men rushed in, dropping to their knees with visible fear.
"Master, what's wrong?" one of them asked, trembling.
"Your junior brother Jim is dead!" the old man growled, his voice echoing off the wet stone.
"Jim is dead?" the three gasped in unison, shocked.
The old man's withered face contorted further. "I lost contact with the colorful centipede. Its final breath was in New York City. Go there—hunt down the bastard who killed Jim. Bring him back alive..."
His voice dropped to a whisper, cruel and guttural.