On the other side, Jack Rungo opened his red eyes and stretched his neck, cracking it. All of his subordinates looked down and feared for their lives. He was seated on the throne, and everyone was beneath his feet.
"Your bastards have failed once again, now you will have to pay for it. Idiots," said Rungo, awkwardly putting a cigar in his mouth to take a drag, running his hand through his afro hair, just like Ashlem, but red.
Four Fronkilas hunters stood before the entire population, tied up and in the hands of other Fronkilas hunters.
They were in a place ravaged by conflicts against the Unimpires, but with cheap labor, Jack Rungo, a former student who had been considered Qoloy of the Intacts, forced the entire population of Zone A to work in Zone Z, which was in ruins.
The population worked hard and rebuilt one of the buildings where now the prodigy Jack Rungo ruled with all possible arrogance. He had changed drastically, just as Singla had no choice; death wasn’t a wonderful idea for a teenager who still wanted to live intensely and was now driven by an ego that reached the skies.
He wanted to become his own Oyer, James Ashlem, and eradicate the Hunter forever, taking his place.
"I won’t let this happen again, my king," said the leader of the Fronkilas.
The leader of the Fronkilas was standing between two pairs of Fronkilas who had failed in the mission to capture Ashlem.
"I want to see the heads of the four roll."
The four Fronkilas were executed right there, in front of the entire population under Rungo’s rule. He was a powerful leader who governed Zone Z, which for many years had been considered a very dangerous zone. He had brought peace after defeating strong supernatural beings that even Ashelem had not yet defeated, and the population saw without any doubt that he was like a god, and thus began to be treated as the god of Zone Z.
Ashlem had made a historic act in that Zone, which many feared to step into due to the atrocities reported and experienced.
Jack stood up, dressed entirely in red with two swords forming an "X" on his back, and a small dagger tucked into his jacket pocket on the right side of his chest.
He left his throne and silently moved around, looking in every direction, causing unease among everyone present. He took repeated drags from his cigar and played with the smoke of the chemical that fueled his style. At times, he resembled a singer or a member of a rock band, reminding one of Jack Kent.
Jack Kent had disappeared after the war against the Unimpires, and it was unclear whether he was alive or had lost his life, but it was certain that Jack Rungo had died. Anyone from outside Zone Z who saw Rungo wouldn’t believe he was a man, but rather a spirit.
The ruins observed were from a long war that important figures like Carhumy Ashlem had been part of, and now everything was in a disarray that Ashlem would be disappointed by once he recovered his memories.
"I don’t like my hunters to fail my missions, because I brought salvation to all of you here. I don’t like you bringing me empty answers, lame excuses. Bring me an answer that makes me reign even more," said Jack Rungo, standing and looking at one of the hunters cleaning his firearm.
The fear in his reign hung over everyone, and it was visible on their faces.
"Are you hearing what I’m saying?" asked Rungo, and everyone responded immediately with fear of losing their life just for a small failure.
Jack Rungo was like that, crazy and sociopathic after receiving the salvation that took him off the path of death. He claimed he was ready to be whatever he wanted because he was stronger than all hunters and all natural and supernatural creatures, and with that, he had chosen to be the great Hunter, James Ashlem.
"Now listen well. Tomorrow, we must leave and visit Zone C, where there are many resources we need. I need five hunters and 80% of the population because we’ll face the king of that Zone. It’s all or nothing, and you know that part of the 80% of the population will watch our victory when we finish off those idiots."
...
The next day arrived. Jack Rungo rotated his shoulders, and he felt his bones crack. His red eyes, fierce and shining, hovered over the trembling crowd. The atmosphere was thick, almost palpable, filled with fear and submission.
He descended from the throne with an agile and silent movement, his red cape billowing behind him. The crowd instinctively parted, creating an improvised corridor he walked through with slow and deliberate steps. The smell of the cigar he smoked, mixed with the iron scent of fresh blood on the floor, seemed to mark the signature of his reign, a blend of pleasure and destruction.
The Fronkilas hunters, his loyal followers, were spread out across Zone Z, handling preparations for the next strike. Bladed weapons were sharpened for those who preferred bloodier attacks, others favored the latest generation weapons, laser guns. Some stocked Glocks, others carried bullet clips, and all worked under the watchful eyes of strict supervisors who didn’t tolerate the slightest distraction.
"I want every piece of equipment flawless. Any failure will be paid with blood," shouted one of the Fronkilas leaders.
The population, consisting of exhausted and hungry workers, was also involved in the preparations. The workforce was divided into groups; some repaired ships, others carried ammunition, and some manufactured explosive cocktails from the leftover chemicals stolen from Zone B. At every shouted order, the citizens obeyed without hesitation, driven not by loyalty but by the fear of retribution.
In the alleys and ruins of Zone Z, families said their goodbyes, aware that most of the men, women, and even children summoned would never return.
Jack Rungo positioned himself before his Fronkilas in the large courtyard of the rebuilt building. His presence radiated power and threat. He took the cigar out of his mouth, pointing it at his subordinates as if it were a weapon.
"Listen well, your lives belong to me. What you do here, you do for my glory, not for your survival," he roared, his voice firm and cutting.
The hunters responded with a deafening chorus of "Yes, my king!" but Jack’s expression remained unchanged. He knew fear was his deadliest weapon, and he made sure to keep it sharp.
As the Fronkilas prepared their weapons, the population performed an African ritual. Women and men sang low chants, a mix of prayers and laments. They knew they would be used as human shields or a secondary force for distraction.
"Fifty will die before the first hunter reach the enemy lines," said one of the older workers.
"And even then, we won’t have a choice," replied another, adjusting the strap on a bag full of explosives.
Four Fronkilas leaders positioned themselves before Jack Rungo, kneeling in reverence. They were the most feared among his subordinates, known for their absolute loyalty and brutality in battle.
"Eseron, you will lead the front line," ordered Jack, his voice as sharp as blades. "I want to see the blood of the enemies before dawn."
Eseron lifted his face, a cruel smile on his lips.
"Yes, my king. It will be as you wish."
"Alphen, you will handle the food. I don’t want hunger to be an excuse for weakness on the battlefield."
"Understood, my king," replied Alphen, with a firm nod.
"And you, Lessa and Trovan, will be in charge of the rear. Make sure no one escapes. Or you will face the blade of my dagger yourselves."
The two leaders swallowed hard but nodded without hesitation.
When the preparations were finally completed, the crowd was gathered in the center of Zone Z. The night had already fallen, but torches lit the dark scene. Jack Rungo climbed onto an improvised platform, raising his hands to silence the murmurs.
"Today, we march to Zone C. Not for survival, but for dominance! They think they are strong, but they don’t know true strength. The strength of those who have nothing to lose!" he shouted, his voice sounding between the buildings.
The speech fired up the crowd, but not with enthusiasm; it was pure fear that moved the tired bodies.
Jack then pointed to the horizon, where the ruins of Zone C awaited.
"When the sun rises, Zone C will be ours. And those who doubt me..." he paused, looking directly at a young man in the crowd who was trembling in fear, "...will meet the same fate as the Fronkilas I executed for their inconceivable failure."
The silence that followed was so heavy it felt like the whole city was holding its breath.
The march began with heavy steps and desolate faces. Children were carried on the shoulders of adults, while the elite flew through flying cars and ships. Some women murmured prayers while holding pieces of fabric that had once been peace flags.
Jack Rungo led the march, the only one not using a ship or flying car, imposing in his red armor, the two swords crossed on his back reflecting the torchlight. He didn’t worry about the weight of the moment — in Jack’s mind, he had already won.
Behind him, the Fronkilas marched with military precision, their weapons ready and their gazes fixed. The march would continue until the final destination, where blood and fire would seal the fate of another Zone. Jack Rungo knew that by the end of the night, he would be crowned again as a god.
To be continued...
Glossary:
Fronkila Hunters - Hunters who hunt other hunters.