The Scarlet Finale is a Nostramo gang that's hard to put into words, and don't get me wrong, it's not because of their flashy image or brutal style.

What you need to know is that these two things are basically standard for Nostramo gangs; if you don't have any of the above, the gang will come and 'sack' you of their own accord.

Also, they don't really fall into the tyrannical category at all, and aside from the fact that they have a lot of motorcycles and like to paint half their faces red with blood, the Scarlet Finale doesn't have any points worth remembering.

They're also not very creative in their use of motorcycles.

They don't strap them to people and drag them alive until they die, nor do they use them to run over passing civilians, they really just ride around on them shooting and wielding knives, and they are unimaginative compared to other gangs that also prefer motorcycles.

And the reason this gang is so hard to describe in words is because they are now.......

Well, most of them are now......Very broken.

Literally.

Khalil stood calmly in front of a closed wooden door, his hands lowered and tucked inside his cloak.

He breathed softly, his voice barely audible, the floor beneath his feet covered in blood that had even soaked the thick soles of his leather boots, he just stood there patiently waiting.

He was always patient.

Fifteen minutes later, two soft, relieved sighs came from behind the door, then quickly faded.

Five minutes later, the sound of soft talking came through the door, along with the sound of leather boots treading softly on the concrete floor.

It was then that Kalil violently shifted his stance.

He fired his legs and thrust his right shoulder forward with such force that the door immediately slammed down hard, knocking down someone behind the door who had come to check on the situation with him.

He screamed as he was thrown out of the room and unfortunately hit the wall and was silenced instantly, shots followed and this time Kalil had prepared.

The sound would not reveal itself again - in fact, the killing had been going on for a while now, and the other gang across the street had never realized that there was a massacre going on here.

"Hello," Khalil said softly, a cold blue light flickering in his eyes, making his voice terrifying and low, alive with the eerie sound of a blade rubbing against bone.

Blood filled the air at his feet, the corridor behind him was littered with bodies, and the ghastly white light from outside filtered in through the cracks in the broken windows and walls.

The angle had been carefully designed by Kalil; he needed this survivor to see it.

"Don't come over......Don't come over ......"

There was silence in the room for a few seconds, followed by the sound of a panicked voice and the protests of a gun that was pulled repeatedly but had no bullets.

The latter was particularly noticeable.

Khalil smiled a little, not rushing to apply pressure, he could already smell the fear.

Fear could change many things, it could make the wise foolish and the foolish rich in haste. A few could resist the high pressure, ignore the fear and move on, but most would inevitably become slaves to it.

He took a slow step forward, deliberately letting the survivor see his gesture.

The unfortunate man immediately screamed, his imagination involuntarily starting to imagine what Karil would do to him next.

He cowered backwards on his hands and knees as he began to pick up the debris and trash on the ground and throw it at Karyl.

Great......Just as I expected.

Kahlil narrowed his eyes and once again the cold blue light flickered in his eyes, he stood still, choosing not to dodge, and the debris simply passed through his body without even touching the corners of his clothing.

They fell to the ground, landing in the broken flesh and corpses, splashing pools of blood and making a dull thudding sound.

A few seconds later, the screams resumed.

The sole survivor of the Scarlet Finale closed his eyes and began to recite illogical phrases, waving his hands about as if he wanted nothing more than to beg the murderous spirit of vengeance to let him go.

What he didn't realize was that Karil couldn't move at all right now.

......It's still too far.

I still don't have enough knowledge about this power, he thought with a frown, but it seems that as long as I don't use it violently, that thing from the afterlife won't be able to find me.

This is an unexpected blessing, so I can make a note of it and inform the spirit later. He also has the potential to awaken this power......though I hope it's best if he doesn't use it.

Sighing silently, Kahlil endured the intense pain and soreness towards the front and continued walking.

The way he walked now was really slow and stiff, a gesture that came from the body itself rather than a disguise, and it made the survivor who had heard the footsteps and opened his eyes scream even more horribly.

In the hallway outside the room, the hunched apparition frowned.

The survivor screamed to one side and began to retreat further, his mind completely shattered by fear and no longer able to connect, but the instinct to survive still made him react in some ways.

Like backing away, trying to get away from the cold room and the ghost standing in the doorway.

Unfortunately, his back was already against the wall.

There was no way for him to retreat.

And then...

The vengeful, ferocious spirit that stood before him, the one that had made all of this happen with his own hands, slowly opened its mouth.

-----------------

"I still don't understand why we didn't kill him."

"Because - wait, let me slow down."

Khalil gasped as he leaned against the dirty wall of the dank alleyway and hunched over for several seconds before continuing to answer the Spectre's question.

"Because I need a fearful scum like him for my plans."

"Plan?" Spectre crouched and cocked his head, "What plan? You haven't told me about it."

"You don't need to know exactly how this program works, Spectre, you don't even need to know its name.The only thing I can tell you is......".

Khalil paused again as he began to take deep breaths again, the process but painful.The Spectre could see his distorted features and sweaty face, which brought the Spectre to his feet.

"What is it?" the Spectre asked in a low voice.

"It's what it does."Khalil forced a smile."I let him go because I knew he'd go around preaching about what his gang had been through......".

"And then what?"

"Then the gangs will know in which part of the area the Vengeful Murderer is now operating, and those who didn't believe in him before will have a little faith in his existence when confronted with such a living example of madness."

"But didn't you say it was best to leave no witnesses, only names at the scene?"

Confused, the Spectre stepped forward and helped Kalil sit down.

"Thank you, Spectre."

Khalil said, not rushing his explanation, but choosing to thank him first.

Courtesy is important.

"Both approaches have their advantages, don't get stuck on one, you have to consider and use them as appropriate."

"......I don't quite understand."

I'm afraid I'll be damned if you do, you little one and a half year old monster.

Khalil grinned, "You can verify their respective roles afterwards, back to the point, Spectre.Remember that woman?"

"....I remember."

The Spectre's expression tightened a bit as he snapped in a low voice, "What did she mean when she said I was a low-intelligence iron golem?"

"You actually heard me....Well, we'll talk about that later...Anyway, she's from House Skolewalk, a long-established Upper Nest family with as many as seventeen people who can be titled Earl alone."

"She's the Coroner of House Skolewalker, a role that involves patrolling the capital of the Lower Nest, policing the territory of the gangs affiliated with House Skolewalker, and collecting the taxes they pay."

"She's not as senior as the gangs, but the coroner is a direct employee....Do you get it when I say that?"

The Spectre nodded as he listened quietly and patiently to Karil's words - the word direct employee rippled through his mind the moment it appeared, making him aware of the meaning of the word and more words that came with it.

"And she's dead, I killed her, along with the priest of the Church of the Sabbath and the Razor of the Razor Gang....And the member of the Trembling Teeth you killed."

"Shivering Teeth?"

"No lips, lots of pierced nails or chains on his body."

The apparition dawned on him, "The bald guy!"

"......Anyway, we pissed off the Skolewalkers & Trembling Teeth in one fell swoop on the eve of the Great Purge, and to make sure the Purge goes off without a hitch, they're sure to send someone down to deal with us." "This is a good opportunity, Spectre, we'll finally have a chance to kill some of the upper class nobles."

"It's a good opportunity, Spectre, we'll finally have a chance to kill some of the upper class nobles."

Khalil grinned slowly, a joy that words could not describe suddenly flashed across his pale face, "...that's a first."

The Spectre nodded before continuing to think.

He didn't really understand the strange terms like the Sklevoks, the Trembling Teeth, and the Great Purge; they didn't just pop into his head.

He didn't understand them, just as he didn't understand why Khalil knew so much; in fact, it seemed to the Spectre that Karyl knew more than he did.

Some things, though, you didn't need to understand; you just needed to see if it was right or good, and that was enough.

After a careful and brief moment of reflection, the Spectre came to a conclusion.

Karyl was right, and this thing......is good..

However, he had one last point to make; Karyl had said that if he was confused about something, he should just ask and not have to hide it.

The Spectre did as he was told.

He frowned and asked, "But we used to leave no one alive."

"......You're pretty obsessive about this, Spectre.Well, listen - killing is always a means to an end, not an end in itself, make no mistake about the underlying relationship, and ......"

Khalil sat down and slowly held out a hand.

The ghost looked at him in disbelief.

Silence.

One second, two seconds, three seconds - the vengeful and ferocious spirit of the dinosaur finally sighed.

"Take me back to the shelter," he said. "I can't move for a while."

"Oh."

The next second, the Spectre was actually carrying him.