Rafael went straight to the training ground, where mobsters were lined up, training hard. Some were exercising, others were taking a break—indulging in drugs or engaging in sexual activities—while others remained focused, training with guns.

Grabbing a gun, Rafael headed to the shooting range.

Gun training had always been his favorite. The sight of mannequins being destroyed with each bullet oddly satisfied him.

'Why?' Leonard’s dying face flashed in his mind, making his nerves go rigid. His grip tightened, and he fired aimlessly, each shot tearing into the mannequin, destroying it until its parts scattered across the ground.

"You made your choice."

Silence’s cold voice echoed in his head, and...