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…”

smart ally vouching for

looked like Jagoan

swore he’d report it all

just as he began 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 you ready to ask for mine now? I’ll give

Sir, I, Will Johnson, beg your forgiveness!” He stared at Jagoan, eyes brimming

“Swallowing a whole

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

gang members, familiar with firearms. They’d messed around with bullets before, but the bond between casing and

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

plan. Why did he dismantle the bullet, and what did it have to do with the forgiveness he’d

holding up the separated bullet with a grin. “You asked for forgiveness, right? Here it is. Swallowing a

Jagoan in disbelief. These words, coming from the

your

went pale, and he avoided

resort to such a cruel trick, he would have gladly swallowed