A World Ruled by "God"

When had Brandon ever suffered such utter humiliation?

"You—you'll regret this—" he muttered hoarsely. "My father will find you—my family will find you—they'll—"

"Let them come," Ian said, his voice as calm as if he were commenting on the nice weather.

Brandon shut his mouth. He looked at Ian's calm eyes, at the abyss in them that held no emotion, no ripple whatsoever. He suddenly realized something: this man wasn't afraid of the Jupiter Family. It wasn't a feigned lack of fear. He truly wasn't afraid. The same way a person wouldn't be afraid of a swarm of ants.

Ian turned and walked toward the five criminals. They stood there trembling all over, watching him approach, not knowing what to say or what to do.

"You guys," Ian warned them seriously, his tone carrying a hint of instruction, "stop messing around with nuclear bombs. Next time I won't be so easy to talk to."

The bald giant opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he only nodded.

Ian turned back to Brandon. The young man was still leaning against the wall, shaking all over, his blue eyes fixed on him like a trapped beast.

"You," Ian said, "go home. Sober up. Think carefully about what you did today."

Brandon said nothing. He gritted his teeth, pushed himself off the wall, and staggered toward the open ground. His body swayed as if he might collapse at any moment, but he clenched his jaw and walked on, step by step. Then he flew up, turning into a white arc of light that vanished into the night sky.

The five criminals watched that white light disappear and stayed silent for a long time.

Then the bald giant said, "He'll go back and complain. His father will