The old Serpent Gang headquarters was unrecognizable.
Where there had once been a decrepit building reeking of drugs, cigarettes, and desperation, now stood sothing that could almost be called respectable.
The walls had been cleaned and repainted in dark, professional colors. The floors were polished. The furniture was new and functional. Proper lighting had been installed throughout, replacing the flickering bulbs that had barely illuminated the decay.
The renovations had cost a significant portion of their operational budget, but Damian had insisted on it.
If the Mafia was going to control territory, they needed a proper base of operations. Not so disgusting hovel that stank of the previous owners’ failures.
Rain poured down outside, hamring against the windows in steady rhythm, creating a backdrop of white noise that filled the large eting room.
Nearly a hundred people were gathered inside.
The thirty-one student mbers of the Mafia stood in formation on one side, their new weapons visible, their postures confident in ways they hadn’t been just weeks ago.
Ariana was notably absent. Damian had left her at Professor Seraphina’s house to recover in peace. What she’d been through required more than just physical healing.
On the other side stood Marco’s n, the sixty-three forr Serpent Gang mbers who’d survived the initial takeover and proven their loyalty since.
They looked different now. Much cleaner and more organized. Less like desperate criminals and more like actual soldiers.
At the front of the room, elevated slightly on a platform that had been constructed specifically for this purpose, sat a single chair.
Damian sat there, leaning back casually, his long crimson hair tied back, his cold eyes surveying everyone gathered before him.
He looked different than he had that morning.
Sothing had changed in him after the conversation with Elizabeth. So final barrier between hesitation and absolute conviction had been broken.
The rain continued its steady assault on the building.
Nobody spoke a word or moved.
They were all waiting.
Finally, Damian leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers interlaced.
When he spoke, his voice carried easily across the silent room despite not being raised.
"I’m disappointed."
The two words hung in the air like an accusation.
"Two months... That’s how long I’ve been training in the forest, focused on my own developnt, trusting that the expansion of our territory was proceeding according to plan."
His eyes swept across Marco’s n specifically.
"And in those two months, you’ve managed to secure thirty percent of the Outer Region... only thirty percent. Of the weakest, most disorganized criminal territory in this entire city."
Marco’s face remained impassive, but his jaw tightened slightly.
"I gave you clear instructions before I left. Take everything and establish dominance. Show everyone in this region that the Mafia wasn’t just another gang fighting for scraps. We were the new power structure."
Damian stood up slowly, his presence seeming to fill the entire room.
"Instead, you’ve been playing politics. Negotiating with other gangs. Trying to form alliances and establish agreents. Acting like we’re equals with these pathetic criminals who are too weak to even defend their own territory from a group of students."
His Slaughter Intent began leaking out, making the air feel heavy and oppressive.
Several of Marco’s n actually stepped backward involuntarily.
"Let be absolutely clear about sothing, because apparently my previous instructions weren’t explicit enough."
Damian’s voice dropped lower, more dangerous.
"I don’t want thirty percent of the Outer Region. I don’t want fifty percent. I don’t want ninety percent."
He raised his hand, fingers spread wide.
"I want everything... Every street. Every building. Every business. Every criminal operation. Every gang. Every independent crew. Everything!"
His hand clenched into a fist.
"By the end of today, the Outer Region belongs to the Mafia. Completely and absolutely without any exception."
Excited murmurs rippled through the student mbers.
Marco remained silent, his expression carefully neutral.
"There are exactly two outcos for anyone who currently operates in this region."
Damian held up two fingers.
"One: They submit. They join the Mafia and follow the rules I established. They contribute to our organization and beco part of what we’re building."
He lowered one finger, leaving only his index finger pointing at the crowd.
"Two: They die. We kill them and take their territory. We distribute their resources among our mbers and their nas are forgotten. Their organizations shall disappear and they shall beco examples of what happens when you stand in the Mafia’s way."
The room had gone completely silent again.
"There is no negotiation or any form of compromise. There is no third option where they get to remain independent or maintain their own operations. Submit or die. Those are the only choices."
Complete and utter silence spread throughout the room as only the sound of everyone’s breathing could be heard.
Damian’s eyes found Marco in the crowd.
"Marco. Where are the remaining major powers right now?"
Marco stepped forward, his scarred face showing respect and sothing like relief that they were finally taking decisive action.
"Boss, our intelligence indicates that the remaining five major gang leaders are currently eting at the Iron Barrel pub in the eastern district. They’ve been discussing how to respond to our expansion and apparently decided to form so kind of alliance."
A cold smile crossed Damian’s face.
"How convenient. They’ve gathered themselves in one location for us. That saves considerable ti."
"The Iron Barrel is neutral territory. They’ll have guards posted. Probably around twenty ard n total, plus the five leaders and their personal bodyguards."
"I don’t care if they have a hundred guards. They’ll all be dead by the end of the night."
Damian turned his attention to the student mbers.
"Edrin, Ronan and Lysa. All of you... Listen carefully to what I’m about to say, because your lives depend on understanding this."
His expression beca deadly serious.
"Today is different from the Serpent Gang operation. That was controlled, planned and I had your backs the entire ti, watching from the shadows, ready to intervene if things went wrong."
He shook his head slowly.
"But not today... Today you’re going into real combat against desperate criminals who know they’re fighting for survival. And I will not be covering for you. If you make a mistake, you die. If you’re too slow, you die. If you hesitate, you die."
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