Fifi nodded slowly, her own mischievous smile widening. "Good. Jackson thinks he could get away with it, but he's about to learn that messing with me was the worst mistake he could've made."
Cain raised an eyebrow. "Why you? He didn't steal from you. He stole from me."
Fifi crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with exasperation. "The comb belongs to me, remember?"
Cain's lips twitched as if he wanted to argue, but he caught himself, letting the silence hang between them. There was no point in pushing back — especially not with Fifi.
=== ⭐ ===
Later that night, Jackson was walking back to his apartment, the city streets mostly empty, save for the occasional flickering streetlight casting long, eerie shadows.
The cool night air nipped at his skin as he hurried along the sidewalk, his footsteps echoing softly in the stillness.
As he rounded a corner, his path was suddenly blocked by a tall, imposing figure.
Jackson stopped dead in his tracks, his heart skipping a beat as he took in the sight before him. It was a man — broad-shouldered and towering over Jackson — who stood with a confident, almost lazy posture, as if he owned the very ground he was standing on.
The man's presence exuded an aura of danger, making Jackson's blood run cold.
"Yo!" The stranger grinned, flashing a row of teeth that looked more like they belonged to a predator than a person. The voice was deep and gravelly, carrying an edge of menace that sent a shiver down Jackson's spine.
It was Cain, though Jackson didn't recognize him. Gone was the carefully curated image of the polished idol-in-training, replaced by the raw, unfiltered version of Cain — the gang leader who ruled District 4 with an iron fist.
Jackson's initial fear gave way to a desperate attempt at bravery. "Y-you won't get away with this," he stammered. "There are CCTV cameras all over this area. I'll report you to the police."
Joker's grin widened as he exchanged a glance with Cain, who gave a slight nod. "Don't worry," Joker said smugly. "We took care of the cameras beforehand. We're not that dumb, you know. As for you going to the police . .
."
He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he signaled to the others, and they all swarmed Jackson. But instead of beating him up, they just laughed and started stripping him of his clothes, leaving him in nothing but his socks. They filmed the whole thing on their phones, howling with laughter.
"Just try anything, and this video will go viral," Joker teased, waving Jackson's pants in the air. "Everyone's gonna see your little twinkie!"
The gang erupted into more laughter, tossing Jackson's clothes around like it was some twisted game of catch.
"Ohohoho, this would've been a lot easier for you if you'd just handed over your stuff instead of talking nonsense," Bones said with a chuckle, grabbing Jackson's bag and gave it to Cain.
Cain rummaged through it. He quickly found what he was looking for — the [Celestial Comb]. "Let's go."
Cain took one last glance at the disheveled Jackson, who was left standing in the street, desperately covering his private parts while the gang continued to laugh and wave his clothes around like victory flags.
"Alright, boys! We've got the loot—let's hit the bar!" Joker shouted.
The gang started to leave, still laughing and high-fiving as they scattered Jackson's clothes behind them like confetti. Jackson was left alone, mortified, as passersby giggled and pointed, some even snapping pictures on their phones.
As the gang disappeared into the night, Jackson slowly began to pick up the pieces — literally.