The Charismatic Charlie Wade

Jagoan’s face transformed, becoming a picture of fierce determination. His eyes burned with a deadly fire that sent shivers down the black man’s spine.

In that moment, all doubt vanished. The man understood Jagoan’s ultimatum crystal clear. Defying it meant signing his own death warrant. But the idea of swallowing bullets gave him the creeps. It wasn’t just about gulping them down, getting them out afterward was a whole different ball game.

He briefly wondered if dropping the name of the Burning Angels might rattle Jagoan once more. Like some Taoist priests, maybe they could play mind games, a battle of wills. If Jagoan felt satisfied, maybe they could skip the fight and have a drink together. It wasn’t unusual, whether in China or the States. The key was knowing when to call it quits.

Yet, when he tried to voice these thoughts, he stumbled. Jagoan’s punches still smarted, and begging wouldn’t do any good. If he kept asking for peace, he’d only get more beatings.

Just when he teetered on the brink of indecision, a loyal friend by his side took the leap.

With all the courage he could muster, the companion spoke up. “Sir, maybe this is all a big misunderstanding. We, the Burning Angels, pride ourselves on being rational. Show us a bit of respect, and we can set up a meeting with our boss. Maybe we can work something out and avoid all this escalating.”

The man watched his buddy say what he couldn’t bring himself to utter. Hope sparked inside him, and he nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir, you see, you’re a skilled fighter, brave. If we team up, the Burning Angels will be unstoppable. Don’t you think?”

Jagoan eyed the man, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve got wit and know how to make friends out of enemies.”

The man nodded eagerly. “Yes, sir, he’s always been sharp…”

vouching for you, I’d be a fool not

excitement. It looked like Jagoan

to gulp down bullets. Once he got out of this tight spot, he swore he’d report it all to his boss. Trying to turn enemies

to believe Jagoan would show him mercy, hope curdled into dread as Jagoan changed the game. “You asked God for forgiveness once, and he might not have granted it. Are

I, Will

his gaze, a slight smile on his lips. “Swallowing a whole bullet ain’t easy, so I’ll cut

the casing with his fingers, then the head with his thumb and forefinger. A collective gasp filled the room as Jagoan effortlessly separated

were seasoned gang members, familiar with firearms. They’d messed around with bullets before, but the bond between casing and warhead was usually rock solid. It took specialized tools, often a vice, to do

sense of fear settling in. If he could take a bullet apart that easily, what was stopping him from smashing skulls

grasp Jagoan’s plan. Why did he dismantle the bullet, and what

for forgiveness, right? Here it is. Swallowing a whole bullet is a

into dread, staring at Jagoan in disbelief. These words, coming

reminded him, “Don’t forget to thank your loyal friend. He got you this

pale, and he avoided his friend’s eyes. Anger

such a cruel trick, he would have gladly swallowed the