In a dark basement under a private villa, a handsome man in his early thirties was standing erect in the only hallway, eyes gunmetal grey, posture strict and rigid.

An iron-black military uniform wrapped around the man's tall figure. His face was cold and his thin lips were tightly pressed together in an attempt to suppress his emotions. His jawline was hard, and his light grey hair seemed to be the color of silver. He could make people tremble from their core just by standing there motionless. This was someone who had made countless foreign nations quake in their boots… Country R's God of War.

This impression of a righteous general disappeared when he faintly smiled in great happiness. It seemed like a smirk but also like a grin, looking devilish and charming. General Romanov had always hidden this aspect of him, acting how his superiors expected him to, stern and severe. Now that he had achieved his initial objective for all these years of behaving like an upright military soldier and was exposed of his hidden identity, he felt no need to keep his facade to anyone anymore.

He proceeded to walk forward, his mask appearing to unravel step by step. His cold face grew malicious, his clear grey eyes shifted into a murky color, his gait relaxed into a saunter, and his smile twisted in a wicked way. He became the Underworld Leader, Alastor Romanov.

Arriving at a conspicuous door at the end of the hall, he unlocked it quickly with his fingerprint, DNA, and iris scanners, impatient to resume inflicting unimaginable pain to the last person who was behind his family's deaths locked up in here. The door opened automatically with a beep, showing him another hallway, this time wider, with multiple doors on either side, and enough light to see everything. Alastor pulled open the nearest door to his changing room with clean sets of clothes, like a walk in closet. It also had a laundry machine he uses to wash away the irritating bloodstains he always has after coming here.

After changing into more appropriate attire for torture, Alastor pondered over if he should kill the last person here today. It had already been two months since that scum was locked in here, he probably won't last much longer. He didn't want him to die in less pain than the others. He deserves to lose his life in a crueler way than dying of hunger or dehydration. But what kind of method should he use? Slowly suffocate him from his own blood dripping in his nose? Force him to eat his own severed appendages and die from overeating?

A thick darkness surged in his eyes, like a storm brewing.

Alastor's thoughts were getting more brutal by the second. All the ways he thought of, he considered them too light of a sentence than that scum from the dirty sewers even deserved. They were all unsuitable.

He stepped out to the hall, making his way to another room. Opening the door, he walked inside.

Then he started.

"AHHHHHGGGHAAAASTO, STOP, PLEA, AHHHH!!!" a man's voice spoke, begging incoherently.

"Hahaha, did you, haha, ever think this would happen when you decided to do all those disgusting actions? This is your retribution! Hahahahaha!" Alastor said through crazed laughs, while cutting off more of the nailless fingers to feed him with what looked like an old rusted dagger with dragon carvings on it.

Hoarse screaming and pleading echoed throughout the basement, sounding like music to Alastor's ears. His bloodlust radiated from his body, enough to suffocate the fainthearted.

When the man's screeches filled with agony abruptly stopped, Alastor rose up in slight disappointment. Even if he felt that way, his face had a wide smile, brimming with madness. His eyes shone in a menacing way, finally satisfied now that he finished his revenge.

'I have finally avenged you elder brother, father, mother. Now I can rest. Even though I think that's impossible. I have never truly relaxed ever since...' Alastor thought, glancing down at his bloody hands, he seemed to remember something. His demeanor became somber. His face turned faintly bewildered, not knowing what he should do. He had never thought of it before, what he would do when he finished.

He felt completely lost.

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Over twenty years ago, in the outskirts of the Capital in Country R

A young man who looked to be fifteen crouched down, hiding behind a bush, using his finger to push away an opening, looked around and listened carefully for pursuers. He was hugging a small ten year old boy, who was shivering from the cold, fear, and exhaustion. They had run here, to this forest surrounding the abandoned house their parents found for them to hide from their enemies.

Not finding anything, the older boy looked down at his little brother in concern. He asked with a tired and quiet voice, "Al, are you okay? Were you injured?"

The little boy stared at his hands, stained with blood. He wasn't severely injured, but he was in shock. He had just witnessed his parents' deaths from the monitoring in the house. He didn't hear his brother's question at all. There seemed to be a ringing, piercing sound in his ears. Alastor even forgot their current urgent situation. He could only see his father being stabbed in the neck, blood flying out onto the white carpet, and his mother being pushed onto the floor by multiple men, repeating over and over again in his mind, torturing him, traumatizing him. Their last words became the focus of his attention in the end.

'They want me to avenge them? How? But if they come back with this, I will do anything...' Alastor thought, not noticing the faults in his logic with his unstable mind.

Not getting a response from his brother, Aaron wanted to comfort him, but they didn't have enough time. They had to escape from their pursuers. Aaron felt responsible for their safety, now that his parents were gone. He had to protect his brother and make this out alive. His face hardened in determination.

The entire time travelling forward, Alastor's face was blank and numb, and his hands were grasping the dagger he hid in his coat pocket. It was his parent's last gift to him, a dagger carved with dragon patterns. 

The area appeared eerie in the dark surroundings. Aaron continued travelling alongside him worriedly, holding his hand and pulling him with him, and while doing so, he was also paying careful attention to the sounds in the vicinity. He didn't notice his brother's actions in the forest that had little light.

The closer they were to the edge, the more cool-headed Aaron became and the more cautious. The safest place is also the most dangerous in this situation. They might be waiting to ambush them on the way out.

A tiny sound of rustling leaves was made. Aaron turned his head to the place it was from sharply, afraid it was the mercenaries who murdered their parents. When he saw a squirrel swiftly climbing up a tree, he sighed in relief. 

He continued walking to the exit of the forest tiredly but alertly, almost tripping over rocks and tree roots multiple times. Alastor followed him with his head down, hiding his expression.

They eventually escaped unscathed from the pursuit. Aaron planned to meet with their uncle Harold, who was the CEO of a successful technology company. What he didn't know was that the company was used as a cover, Harold was actually partnered with drug dealers, laundering their money.

The Romanov brothers were born in a mafia family. Their father was the leader of the largest local drug trafficking gang and owned an extremely profitable company that he founded for his sons. He had died in a large scheme set up by someone.

When Aaron and Alastor got to meet Harold, Aaron explained their situation to him and asked him to take them in. He also told his uncle that he could run their father's company until he had grown up, negotiating a deal with him.

When Harold agreed and they became his legally adopted sons, Aaron finally completely relaxed and had the time to take care of Alastor. By that time it was already too late. Alastor was completely withdrawn and stopped talking to him.

"Al, what's wrong with you?" Aaron asked in concern after noticing his brother was in his own world, not responding to him. He was too busy focusing on planning their future, that he had neglected taking care of his little brother's emotional state.

"..." Alastor didn't answer even to his older brother. His mind was blank and on autopilot, even if he ate, slept, and walked normally he couldn't think of anything. His mind had shut down from the stimulation of his parent's death.

Sighing, Aaron patted his head gently and then hugged him tightly. He would let him heal on his own. He couldn't hire a psychiatrist while they were hiding from the mastermind behind their parent's deaths. All he could do was be there for his brother and let him slowly recover.

One day after his brother went to train his fighting skills in the backyard, Alastor overheard a conversation behind his uncle's door. Stopping his steps, he slightly turned his head to the side and looked at the door blankly.

"Did you find where the camera's footage was stored?" Harold's voice questioned seemingly calmly on his phone, though his rapidly tapping foot conveyed his frustration.

"No? Then what do I need you for?" he continued his questioning with a cold tone which could chill someone to the bone. His face had a slight smile on, but his eyes were flat and filled with killing intent.

"You think your begging will change my mind? Unless you find and destroy all the evidence of my brother's murder in three days, there'll be another body sunk to the bottom of the ocean." Harold finished his threatening and hung up the call. Those useless mercenaries can never be relied upon to do these things. I should find someone else to do this task.

Hearing a slight noise outside the door, Harold was startled. Getting up quickly, he opened the door and glanced around for any witnesses. Seeing nobody, he thought that he must have imagined it, remembering nobody was here except that retarded kid who never responds to anybody. He closed the door, relieved, and went back to busy himself with work.

Around the corner, Alastor was standing there with his shoulders trembling and his hand on his mouth. It wasn't from fear but from anger. He almost bit his hand bloody from holding back his emotions. He didn't want to be found, he knew he wasn't strong enough to avenge his parents yet. But one day...

When brother went back, he talked to him. Aaron was pleasantly surprised. His little brother finally spoke!

When Aaron listened to his request, he was bewildered. He asked, "Go abroad? For what reason?"

"I want to get away from this place... It always reminds me of... " Alastor said quietly, his eyes watered and he bit his lip. He tried his best to act like he was sad.

Looking at him like this, Aaron felt his heart softening. He hesitated for several minutes, thinking of how plausible it would be for his brother's wish to be fulfilled. He also rethought all his plans he made for Alastor's future. In the end he agreed to help him ask Harold for permission only if he promised to keep in contact with him and called him every day.

Eight years later, Country A's Capital, Dark Night Bar

An eighteen year old boy walked into a private booth, his smirk devilish. His facial features were deep and defined, sexy and charming. He had a face that was extremely dazzling when smiling but extremely severe while frowning. His every motion and action was attention grabbing and his charisma overflowed. He made you want to get close but had an aura that kept people a thousand miles away.

"Where are the photos?" Alastor asked the only man in the room after not seeing anything but the man himself. Even if he was questioning him, he didn't have the slightest change in his expression. He was acting like this situation was the most normal thing in the world.

1. "Romanov, do you not understand your situation?" the man asked with a smug smile. 

"No, why don't you tell me?" Alastor said, completely calm and assured of himself.

"You're finally in my hands now, you cruel bastard. Your position will be mine after I kill you!" the man shouted in glee, taking out a handgun. He started pointing it in Alastor's direction.

Before he could shoot, a hand snatched the gun away. Somehow, Alastor had gotten in front of him when he lost control of his emotions without him noticing. Twirling around the gun with his finger playfully, Alastor's smirk grew. He kicked up and kneed him in the solar plexus. The man doubled over and coughed harshly. His hands covered his chest and he looked upwards in rage.

"An ant." Alastor stated, his face now expressionless. He stopped twirling the gun and stood straighter, posture strict. He now looked cruel and cold, merciless and condescending. Pointing the gun at the man's temple, he shot unhesitatingly. Staring down as the dead body fell to the floor, Alastor's eyes were like looking at a dirty bug squashed on a wall. Completely ruthless.

Leaving the room, he ordered the man waiting by the door to clean up the scene. He then left the bar to head to his dormitory at his school.

During these eight years, Alastor had put his best efforts into creating a mafia with him as the head. He needed people who would listen to his orders and expand his organization. He needed more strength. He would graduate tomorrow and he had to go back home. To his brother. To that bastard.

When he arrived at his uncle's new mansion, he saw Aaron sitting in the garden reading through a bunch of papers. Even though he had already mastered the art of keeping his face calm anytime and anywhere, his pupils still trembled from excitement. Almost running over to him, Alastor yelled, "Brother!"

Turning over to face him, Aaron's face changed into shock, realization, and then joy. He quickly got up and sped over as well. They both hugged each other tightly, lost for words on what to say after their long separation. They had kept in contact on the phone, but it's not the same as seeing each other in person.

After they separated, Alastor noticed that Aaron had changed a lot from the last time they met. His somewhat immature face grew mature and his height shot up as well. But what caught his attention was the cold and heartless aura he had before he called out to him. He looked like the mafia leaders he met before, sly and bloodthirsty.

After they caught up with each other and had a heart to heart talk, Alastor left to put his suitcase in his prepared room. When the door closed, his 'naive' smile subsided and he dug out his phone and called a number labeled 'Info #7'. When the call was picked up, he said curtly, "Find out what happened to my brother during my stay abroad. I want every detail."

When the information was delivered to his phone the next day, he was brimming with rage. His hand tightened around the phone, cracking the screen.

It said his brother was forced into working with the drug gang Harold worked with and he had become the leader of it. The gang was so successful that it had almost swallowed up all the other gangs and became this country's top underworld organization specialized in dealing drugs.

Aaron was injected with a drug-like poison that had to have an antidote every month for him to live. Even if he took the antidote on time, he would still die in pain and agony in five years. Even now he's suffering unimaginable pain like a drug addict experiencing withdrawal symptoms.

Alastor was completely flustered and infuriated. His brother was his life. Without him all he would live for is revenge. His brotherly love for Aaron had already sunk into his bone marrow, never to leave or lessen. He felt absolute despair.

He sat on his bed for hours trying to calm down and think of what to do. He came up with a plan after the sun had risen enough to shine through the window in his room.

Three years later

Looking at his brother who had died of poison, Alastor's face had become extremely twisted. His hands shook uncontrollably, whether due to grief or fury, no one knew.

He abruptly got up and started strangling the doctor who failed to save Aaron. Blue veins popped up on his neck and forehead, bulging from the strength he used to hold the doctor's neck. When the doctor passed out from asphyxiation, he dropped him to the ground. Alastor's foot lifted up and kicked down.

His face was very calm, and one couldn't find any anger or sadness. One kick at a time, as if repeating a simple action, but if you look carefully, you'll find that his eyes were completely occupied by darkness. There was no more human nature, or even animal nature in them. He was still a man, not a devil or beast, but this man had died, accompanying his brother's cold dead body.

The neck that was repeatedly kicked burst out with a lot of blood. It was spilt on the ground and splashed on the bridge of his nose and forehead, making his handsome but cruel face look extremely fierce.

Alastor's hair that had originally been combed meticulously was already completely dishevelled, his face was covered with blood, and eyes, cold. Before, he had always worn a charming smile, looking both elegant and charismatic. Now, he was like a madman. A group of bodyguards were oppressed by his momentum and dared not even raise their heads or breathe loudly.

He threw away his tie and ran his hand through his hair. Then he told the bodyguard in front of him, "Clean up the body."

He then sat beside Aaron's body and stayed there, still. His expression was hidden from light, so nobody could tell what he was thinking.

There was a dragon patterned dagger in his hand.

Five years later

A stern and cold soldier was saluting a general. Putting down his arm, the soldier then turned around to head outside the room. The general said unhurriedly, "Wait."

Halting his steps, Alastor stood still for a moment, his hands clenching in faint nervousness. He turned around slowly and asked, "Yes, General Loren?"

Loren looked at him with deep eyes, pronouncing his words clearly and respectfully, "'You should tone down your actions. You'll expose yourself', my boss told me to say."

Alastor stopped his act after realizing he was the spy planted here by his ally. He smirked in amusement, though his eyes were dead and lifeless. He said tiredly, "I got it, tell him I'll be acting as Romanov the soldier for until I find out who is behind Harold."

He then left swiftly, not wanting to waste a second he could use to investigate and train. He knew he was tiring himself to the bone, but he didn't care. All he cared about was getting back at the people responsible for his parents' and brother's deaths. Nothing else.

Two years later

"I want to congratulate our victory against Country B! For the happiness of our people!" Loren yelled, filled with passion and dignity.

"YEAHHHHHH!!!" the soldiers bellowed in agreement, loud enough to shake the wooden platform Loren was standing on.

"Someone who we all know, someone who had the most contributions, and someone who single handedly turned the tide of the war! Who all our superiors want to promote to a five star general!  General Romanov! Please come up here and receive your new badge!" Loren said with respect and admiration.

"YAHHHHHHHH!!!!!" the soldiers yelled even more loudly than before. Everyone was excited and feeling honored to personally witness this moment, where the God of War was promoted to such a high position which they thought should be rightfully his after everything he did.

After he received the badge and said his thanks in a short speech, Alastor left for a private room. He fell down on the bed in exhaustion and slept immediately when his head hit the pillow. His forehead was filled with sweat and he didn't even change out of his uniform. Even though he was only twenty eight, his black hair was greying. Below his shut eyes were heavy bags.

From working double lives as the worst criminal hated by anybody normal and a righteous soldier admired by everyone, grieving over his brother, investigating powerful enemies, dodging carefully laid schemes over and over again, Alastor was completely drained and overwhelmed. But he still didn't stop. He had to continue....

Four years later

Finding out the people who were behind  everything was a bunch of corrupted higher ups from the police was not shocking. What was shocking was that his best ally, his most trusted friend, was an undercover cop. That he was sold out by him the day before yesterday to his military superiors.

Using all his power in a last ditch effort, Alastor captured all his enemies who were behind his family's deaths and locked them up in a highly secured villa, torturing them one by one for two months. Now he was back to present, not knowing what to do.

Alastor's head was raised upwards, his gaze leaving his bloodstained hands and dagger, and onto the dead body. He then resolved to do something dangerous and stupid. But he didn't care enough for his life to change his mind.

The next day, Alastor finished giving all the evidence of his subordinate's, ally's, and those higher ups from the police he had just tortured to death's crimes to the police. Anybody who killed and raped innocent people were the ones he sent the most evidence about.

Alastor sat on the edge of a rooftop, his back facing the outside and his front facing the only door that led to this area. He looked like he was dangerously close to falling down. His silver hair fluttered leisurely in the soft wind, his face tranquil. He seemed perfectly at peace and calm. He was holding onto a box filled with an unknown substance, hugging it cherishingly.

'Brother, I guess I will meet you soon. I've finished everything. I didn't know what to do at first, but now I know what I want. I wish to see you again…' Alastor thought, feeling a strange emotion. He felt cheerful but sad, brimming with contentment but lingering here with regrets. He didn't know what he was waiting for but he thought it didn't matter if he died sooner or later. He might as well do what his instinct tells him to.

Bang!

The door opened with a large sound, showing a man about the same age as Alastor. He was panting from the run all the way up to the rooftop on the 30th floor. His blonde hair was disheveled and his blue eyes were darting around in panic. When he saw that Alastor was still on the top of the building, he sighed in great relief.

"Alastor, what did you mean, you were going to leave forever and that you didn't blame me for betraying you? I was just bringing your crimes to light and putting you where you should rightfully belong. Behind bars!" Isaac said with conviction. He appeared fully confident that he was in the right. Alastor was the disgusting criminal that needed to be taken care of, so why did he feel this guilty? No, stop thinking about this!

Isaac stared at him, waiting for an answer to his speech. When all Alastor did was smile at him faintly after looking a bit surprised, Isaac was bewildered. 

Isaac was an undercover cop that was given a mission to infiltrate his organization and gain the trust of the Underworld Leader, a title only given to someone who ruled most of the illegal industries and organizations. He had already prepared himself to die for the task, but he didn't know that the Leader would trust him after only six years. Whenever they were together, Isaac was afraid and disliked him inside his heart. But he had to get close to him to collect evidence of his drug businesses.

To Isaac, Alastor Romanov was a mystery. On the surface he was ruthless and cunning but on the inside he was hard working to a fault. To expand his power he wouldn't even care about his health and was sent to the hospital numerous times for overworking himself. His obscure facial expression and elusive figure was what left him the deepest impression about him. He seemed like he didn't care about anything but he had caught him looking at a rusted old dagger preciously. It appeared extremely cared for by him.

Now that he saw him right now, precariously leaning on the edge of a tall building and looking so relaxed, Isaac was confused. What was he holding? A box? What's in it? Why was he here?

Alastor glanced at him, utterly unresponsive. He was unruffled and emotionless, greatly contrasting against Isaac's urgent tone and loud voice. He stated, "The spy is here."

Isaac furrowed his brows even more from confusion and frustration. He was always like this every time. Always answering questions cryptically and curtly. To strangers he was charming and constantly smirking but to friends and allies he was like this. His eyes were lifeless and his face was empty. Like he was already dead inside.

"Do you know what I'm about to do?" Alastor asked, coming up with a plan to get back at this spy for his betrayal and fulfill his initial objective at the same time, two birds one stone.

"What?" Isaac questioned, uneasy from seeing his smirking expression he always had when he was about to deal with someone violently or cruelly.

"I'm going to release a new drug that will make people completely addicted and slowly die. It will come out right away after I use this phone to text my subordinates to release it." Alastor said unhurriedly, taking out his phone and waving it in front of him. He looked playful and mischievous, especially with his brow raising in a slow fashion.

"You won't dare to do that!" Isaac bellowed in disbelief and rage, already thinking of the consequences the new drug will have on the people.

"I dare." He teased in a low voice. Hugging the box to him tightly, he got ready for Isaac to fight with him for his phone. As expected, Isaac ran to him swiftly and grabbed for his phone. Alastor dodged the hand and pretended to type briskly, while reading it out loud at the same time, "Re. lease. it."

Isaac became desperate and kicked out his foot towards the hand holding the phone, missing it by a few inches. They entangled with each other, each with their own objective. After several rounds of fighting, Isaac took out his pistol rashly and pointed it toward him.

Alastor utterly ignored the threatening item and still daringly said, "Send." like he was almost pressing the send button.

Isaac was still too hesitant to actually shoot him and reached for the phone but accidentally knocked down the box in Alastor's arms. Alastor paused in shock as the ceramic box fell to the ground. 

It was like he was watching it in slow motion. 

It broke open and the contents spilled out carelessly. Isaac thought in surprise, 'It was actually dust. No, ashes…'

Alastor behaved like someone had pressed a switch in him and sprang forward in rage. He had completely snapped from having his brother's ashes scattered like this.

Shoving Isaac down to the ground, Alastor started choking him, like he had strangled that incompetent doctor all those years ago. Isaac's and the doctor's face started to overlap, blurring together.

"...why didn't you save him...why are you still alive if my brother isn't… you should just die… everyone should just die… All of you!!!" Alastor muttered insanely while choking him, ending his speech with a roar of sadness.

Isaac suffocated with pain filling his senses. Desperately scratching and kicking him, he tried to push him away. When that didn't work he started shoving him with all his strength, but he still wasn't strong enough. Thoroughly frenzied, Isaac pointed his pistol at the right of his chest and shot.

Alastor grunted in pain and loosened his grip. Isaac slipped out of his hold and coughed in discomfort and inhaled quickly in sharp short breaths.

Falling on the ground and slowly bleeding out, Alastor realized he was going to die soon, as he had wished. 

Crawling inch by inch to the ashes on the floor, he desperately needed to get to them before they blew away with the wind. Using his arms, he bit by bit gathered all the ashes together and hugged them to his bleeding chest. He only halted his actions when it was all there in one pile, in his arms. 

Coughing out blood, Alastor felt his body gradually get colder. He not only didn't feel afraid, he felt content and happy. At least he got to die with his brother. He will rest in peace even with only this. His grey eyes grew unfocused and his sharp pupils dilated. His face settled into a serene expression.

He stopped moving.