He reached the heavy metal door at the back of the building. Two lookouts were stationed there, smoking cigarettes and laughing, oblivious to the storm approaching them. Marcus didn’t hesitate. He stepped out of the shadows, the element of surprise his greatest weapon. Before they could even drop their cigarettes, Marcus had them handled, moving with a ruthless efficiency that left no room for error.
The spot was a underground gambling den run by a rival crew leader named Silas. Silas was the one who had ordered the hit on K-Tone, thinking he could expand his territory without paying the blood tax. Marcus knew the layout of the place like the back of his hand. He parked his stolen car two blocks away and approached through the dark alleyways, moving like a phantom. G-unit - Eye for an eye
This is for K-Tone, Marcus said, his voice cutting through the heavy air. He reached the heavy metal door at the back of the building
The rain fell hard on the asphalt, mirroring the heavy rhythm of the block. Marcus stared out the cracked window of his high-rise apartment, his eyes cold and fixed on the street corner below. He was a soldier of the concrete jungle, a man raised on the philosophy of the G-Unit era where loyalty was everything and betrayal was a death sentence. He stepped out of the shadows, the element
He threw on a heavy black leather jacket, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt low over his eyes. As he stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, the faint sound of a bassline echoed from a neighbor's apartment, a haunting, slow-tempo beat that seemed to score his descent. He took the stairs, avoiding the cameras and the broken elevator, his mind focused on a single target.