God of Crime: Strongest Mafia Boss



When Boris came back to himself, finally getting out of the dream-like illusion that his enemy had put him under, he found himself tied down to a chair inside his own living room. Surrounding him from all sides were his soldiers, all lying down and either snoring or scratching themselves in their sleep. There were even instances of some soldiers who were laughing out loud as if they were having the best time of their lives in the valley of their dreams.

In the corner of the room, he could also see a young African-American man and a Latino girl in her teens who were lying down peacefully on the sofa of his living room. Their dreams were clearly something they enjoyed greatly and were thus happy to relive.

In this place, only two people were awake.

He himself and… 

"So you are the one who attacked us, I presume…"

"I must say. Your ability to stay calm and assess the situation is certainly praiseworthy. I guess being an Ex-KGB agent wasn't just for show now, was it? Color me impressed…"

Boris had indeed managed to immediately understand what had transpired and this was all the more reason why he was slowly being filled with utter despair.

Mental interference-related hunters were extremely rare and their powers varied in different degrees but they were all people no one wished to face in their whole lives. Not other hunters, nor Earthly Supernatural creatures. Because when facing them, the result was never about power.

There was only one thing that mattered in a fight against such eerie beings.

Could you or could you not resist the illusions they would send out your way?

This was something akin to a skill check. A clear condition was placed that created a watershed.

If you could actually support the illusion then you had a chance of winning. If you could not — Then you would simply be toyed to death by the opponent.

"To think I would face someone skilled in Dreams and Illusions."

Unlike one might think, those two were completely different domains altogether and powerful in their own individual ways. One relied on affecting the senses of the individual being influenced and the external world to enact a world they would trap their targets in while the other worked on affecting the soul and the internal world of the target thus trapping them in a perpetual haze of their own mental recollections— dreams, in short.

They couldn't be any more different and studying those two domains together was extremely hard and would necessitate decades if not centuries of training. 

"Are you part incubus or a Cambion like Sir Merlin?"

He asked idly but he received no answer in return as expected. In the end, he simply sighed and accepted his fate. 

"To think the Black Phoenix would manage to hire a Dreamweaver and said Dreamweaver was interested in my target. Should I say that I am just unlucky?"

Boris had lost all hope by now. 

Facing and failing in the traps of an illusionist was a pain in the ass. But it was not inescapable. After all, it was impossible for even the best illusionist to replicate reality altogether. But things were different for a Dreamweaver.

Perhaps, even now. He was still in a dream.

"What do you want?"

"Oh. There are many things I want. But I will not waste my time asking you about them. I know very well, that people like you will never speak unless under torture, and even then, this will most likely be a lie."

Boris chuckled bitterly at that, 

"I guess you think you don't need to ask me any questions. But you are mistaken. You will be hard-pressed to obtain everything from me through dreams."

Boris, like any member of the KGB was trained since young age to toughen his mental capacity and the power of his soul.

The best elixir. The best training, the harshest torture. Like any torture training, they were trained to never release information by mistake should they face mind readers or be easily ensnared in illusions.

"All higher up know about people like Dreamweavers or succubus or entities that feast on dreams. Do you truly think, the government would be able to sleep well without countermeasures to keep the secrets of the states from leaking?"

"Oh?"

Boris grinned, "All sensitive information had been purged from my mind and a few others are behind a seal. No matter what you do, you cannot accede or break them."

This was the standard measure for all secret agents no matter what country they would be from. Saving important info was the highest priority. In fact, as a KGB agent, he even had to work with a few Dreamweavers himself.

Those individuals would generally manipulate their minds and create fake personas that would be used for Infiltration. The Fake persona would fall into slumber when necessary and then… 

"Heh… Why mention this now? You could have simply waited."

"I do not want to die."

He looked at his opponent and though he was begging for his life, there was no shame or regret on his face.

The winner was the one who survived.

Boris found nothing wrong with begging for survival and in fact, if he wasn't tied down, he would have kneeled and licked the shoes of the Prince if it would have been necessary to ensure his survival.

He wanted to live. Plain and simple.

Only by living could you fight for a better future for yourself. Nothing else.

"So you will give me all the information I need?"

"As long as it does not hurt my boss."

"Hahah. Funny way of begging."

"I want to live. But I refuse to live through betrayal. Such a life is not worth living after all. No, I don't deem such life worth living…"

Boris knew that he was contradicting himself. This limit he put on himself was nothing more than going against the pragmatic mindset he always kept and went for.

But he did not show any hesitation on his face.

He was a human after all. Not a literal machine. The same way he had his credo and the same way he had exceptions for this Credo.

Begging, crying, kneeling, even giving up his body if it came to that. There was no humiliation he was not ready to face in order to live.

All except betrayal. He would not live through betrayal and he was adamant about it.

"This is a shame. You seem to be an honorable man. Sadly, this is why I do not think I can control someone like you."

"I see…"

Boris sighed. He did not bother begging more. Not out of pride but simply because it was a waste of time and he didn't believe in wasting time.

"I guess the very moment I fell in your hand my fate was already sealed."

"Indeed."

"Before I die, may I ask for something?"

"What?"

"A cigarette. A good one please."

He asked in jest. Not expecting much, but was surprised when a pack of cigarettes with a snake insignia on them pulled out.

His eyes opened wide into saucers, clearly recognizing this mark and he had to smirk once he did. 

"Damn. Who would have thought I would get something like this before dying? This really feels like a last wish before death kind of scenario."

He chuckled, and when he realized that his hands were freed, he accepted the cigarette that was given to him and looked with interest at the man who lit it with his finger.

"Truly filled with wonder."

Boris wanted to laugh but he simply savored the cigarette quietly with every bit of sense he was capable of, inhaling deeply before puffing out the smoke.

Looking up absent-mindedly, he muttered in a blank voice. 

"I stopped smoking a few years ago because my boss said it was bad for my health and that I would not live long if I did that. Pretty ironic, don't you think?"

He asked but he was not waiting for an answer to come back in response. Those were nothing but the babbling of a man who knew that his time had come. The time for his departure from this cruel and heartless world.

Surprisingly, all he felt was inner peace though he also felt some semblance of disappointment at having to leave so early. After all, he would die without being able to save or protect his boss any longer. He could not help but lament that unfortunate fact. But there was nothing he could do.

"You seem calm in the face of death."

"Do you know what my trainer said the first time he placed a gun against my hand?"

Boris grinned wide, his teeth showing as he spoke with a tone filled with vigor…

"He said. Little Boris, remember this piece of info very well. All lives are equal. The moment you take a life, you are making a pledge. Those who kill must be ready to be killed one day as well."

This was an inevitability. Very few fighters and killers managed to live till they hit the limit of their natural lifespans. So, it was always better to be prepared for the eventuality. 

"I have been ready for my death since decades ago. Lady Death has been my friend and companion ever since I put a bullet in the head of my first victim. Always close, never far away from my sight. Today she simply decided to take my hand and finally act on the promise I made to her on the day I killed."

"Admirable. I will remember you."

Boris smiled as he watched the hand of the Prince cover his face.

"I guess it's an honor. Haha, though I wonder if I will go to hell or Heaven."

"Neither."

Those were the last words he heard before his eyes closed for the very last time.