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Chapter 105: A Funeral
🕑 Added 2024-12-05 17:59:55 +0000 UTC"Please accept my condolences, Mrs. Rudy."
When Ethan, sporting unkempt long hair, arrived at Raymond's funeral, he was greeted by a group of rare, well-dressed Black attendees.
He placed the flowers he brought before Raymond's coffin, offered a few words of comfort to Raymond's mother, and then stood beside Budman, gazing at Raymond lying inside the coffin.
Compared to the face he remembered, Ethan found Raymond's current expression unfamiliar. Without his usual lively expressions, his face now appeared unnaturally solemn.
Looking at the black-and-white photo beside the coffin, which captured Raymond's cheerful smile, the stark contrast struck Ethan as oddly comical.
"Raymond called me just recently, saying he wanted to shoot a music video," Ethan said, turning to Budman, who forced a smile. "I must admit, though, he was a terrible singer, but he was genuinely a good kid."
Budman had watched Raymond grow up, never expecting he would now have to witness his final departure.
"You probably haven't slept well these past few days," Ethan remarked, noticing Budman's trembling body and significantly thinner appearance—so much so that the fat on his chin had vanished.
"It's manageable. It's just... this whole thing was too sudden—I wasn't prepared." Budman paused before adding, "Davis came by this morning to see his brother."
"And where is he now?" Ethan asked, scanning the room but not spotting Davis.
"I'm not sure. He might've gone home..." Budman trailed off as they suddenly heard Davis shouting from outside.
"Don't hold me back, Slo!"
Sensing something wrong, Ethan and Budman immediately rushed outside, finding Slo, a towering man, tightly restraining Davis.
Raymond's younger brother was holding a black pistol.
"Why are you stopping me? I'll kill them! F***!" Davis yelled, struggling to break free from Slo's grasp, who then used a Brazilian jiu-jitsu move to pin him to the ground.
The gun fell to the ground, and Slo kicked it aside.
Getting back up with bloodshot eyes, Davis roared, "Why are you stopping me? I need to avenge him! It's my responsibility!"
"Your responsibility? You little brat!" A voice cut through the chaos as a man in a black suit, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, stepped out of a car. It was Fiss.
He strode up behind Slo and punched Davis squarely in the face, knocking him to the ground before spitting angrily onto the dirt. "S***! You dumb punk! You actually think this is your responsibility?"
Though his face was swollen from the punch, Davis stubbornly stared back at Fiss.
"Damn it, you should've learned from your brother! All you do is make enemies, you worthless punk!" Fiss barked before turning to his men. "Lock him in the house. Don't let him out!"
Afterward, Fiss briefly glanced at Ethan and Budman, giving them a slight nod before heading inside without a word.
Ethan shrugged, thinking Fiss ought to reflect on his own actions first. After all, it was him who had been battling the Wild Dogs for years, and the conflict showed no signs of stopping.
Once Davis was confined to his house by Fiss's men, Ethan and Budman returned to stand by Raymond's coffin.
Raymond's body wasn't going to be cremated but buried—a choice his mother and Davis both preferred.
Although Raymond could no longer voice his preference to the priest, their decision meant he would rest in the cold earth, deep underground.
By evening, the funeral ceremony concluded. Ethan drove with Budman to Fiss's music company, curious about Raymond's new song that was said to be in the office.
However, after listening to the song Raymond had praised so highly, even comparing it to Makeover, Ethan's expression turned unreadable.
"This is supposed to be amazing?" Ethan cursed, looking at Budman. "I should never have expected anything decent from Raymond's taste."
The chaotic music—akin to the senseless screaming of death metal—combined with Raymond's monotonous rap felt like an auditory assault from the devil himself.
"Damn, is this some kind of punishment for me? Or does he want to punish everyone indiscriminately?" Ethan couldn't help but rant. "Budman, maybe he knew he was going to die and deliberately made this awful track. After all, if it horrifies his fans, nobody can complain to him—he's safe and sound in hell, laughing at everyone he tormented with his music!"
"Uh... I hate to admit it, but you might have a point," Budman replied with a wry smile. The first time he heard the track, he thought his ears were being tortured, but that was just Raymond's unchanging style.
Like the time his controversial song earned him death threats, Raymond had a peculiar optimism, convincing himself his music would be a hit no matter what.
"Still, it's not all bad," Ethan admitted with a shrug. "At least it's wild and audacious—some death metal fans might even appreciate this style. But seriously, whose brilliant idea was it to mix death metal with rap? It's like something Satan himself cooked up."
"No worries. The song's not getting released anyway," Budman said, holding up the CD, looking nostalgic.
"Why not? I haven't fulfilled my promise yet."
Budman turned to Ethan, surprised. "You're still planning to shoot a music video for this song?"
"Of course. After churning out too many commercial tracks, I need a change." Ethan grinned. "This song is perfect for going crazy. Besides, it's not like it's going to sell well, right?"
Ethan's decision to make a music video for Raymond's final song wasn't just about keeping his promise; he wanted an outlet to let loose.
The song's lyrics, laced with insults at critics, resonated with Ethan. He saw it as the perfect way to fire back at those who doubted him.
Thinking it through, Ethan felt a surge of excitement.
If only Raymond were alive—Ethan would've suggested he continue creating diss tracks. He had the talent for full-scale verbal assaults, targeting anyone and everyone without discrimination.
Ethan imagined the hilarity of people enduring deafening death metal rap to decipher the lyrics just to fight back.
"Such a waste," Ethan sighed, lamenting how it took him this long to see Raymond's potential. At least there was one last song left for him to work with.
A few days later, invited by Raymond's mother, Ethan attended the burial ceremony at the cemetery.
Standing alone on the lawn, Ethan watched as Raymond's coffin was lowered into the grave by his Black friends.
He took in the surroundings—spacious graves separated by greenery and flowers. Raymond's earnings over the past six months had afforded him a spot here instead of a crowded public cemetery.
As the coffin was buried, the priest recounted Raymond's life.
"Raymond Rudy," Ethan muttered as he approached the grave and read the full name on the tombstone. It was the first time he had learned Raymond's full name.
How sad that some only become known after death. No matter how much fame they achieve, they won't hear any of it.
To Ethan, the notion of an afterlife was just a comforting lie for the living.
That's why he refused to end up like Raymond. Ethan wanted to reach the pinnacle during his prime and enjoy life to the fullest.
As for what happens after death? He couldn't care less about how people remembered him.
The burial ceremony lasted three hours. While Budman and Raymond's family stayed to mourn longer, Ethan left the cemetery. On the way, he encountered Fiss and his girlfriend, Ashara.
Ashara, draped in black fur, looked striking, while Fiss carried his usual air of arrogance, with his open shirt exposing a chest of tattoos and thick chest hair.
"Ethan! Long time no see," Fiss greeted warmly, but Ashara didn't say a word, merely glaring at Ethan with disdain.
Clearly, their last encounter had left her with a lasting grudge.
Ethan, uninterested in engaging with them, exchanged a few perfunctory words before getting into his car to leave.
However, Fiss's car moved ahead, blocking the narrow road out of the cemetery.
If it weren't Fiss, Ethan would've unleashed his road rage, cursing out the idiot driver.
After a short drive, they reached an intersection where Ethan thought he could finally turn and distance himself from Fiss's car.
But suddenly, a truck sped out of a blind spot and crashed into Fiss's vehicle.
"Bang!" The collision was so forceful that even Ethan's car was hit, sliding several meters back.
The windshield cracked into a spiderweb-like pattern, obscuring his view.
Ethan couldn't see what was happening but knew his car's front end was likely smashed.
"F***!" he cursed, trying to free his foot from beneath the pedals and open the door.
Just then, more terrifying sounds filled the air—gunfire.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Recognizing the sound of pistols, Ethan instantly realized what was happening.
It had to be an ambush by Fiss's rivals, the Wild Dogs. This time, they came prepared, and Fiss was surely doomed.
Taking a deep breath, Ethan calmed himself. The bad news was he had been caught up in this mess but the good news was that he was not the opponent's target.
So if he could start the car and leave quickly, the other party would definitely not chase him!
Thinking of this, Ethan did not open the door again, but stepped on the accelerator and tried to drive away from the scene.
