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His movents were efficient, but each motion carried tension — as if part of him wanted to rip his own hands off for obeying, and another part of him had already accepted the leash wrapped around his blood.
Auri watched him closely, expression unreadable.
Sekht waited until the hall fell into a stable silence.
Only then did he speak.
His voice was calm.
Not loud.
Calm was worse than loud in a place like this, because calm ant control.
"How many," Sekht asked, "are you?"
Raka answered imdiately.
"Fifty-three," he said. "Including ."
Sekht’s gaze sharpened slightly.
"Only fifty-three," he repeated.
Raka’s mouth tightened, as if he disliked admitting weakness in front of n who used to worship his strength.
"We had more," Raka said. "Over a hundred."
Sekht leaned back slightly in the stone seat.
"Where did they go," he asked.
The thugs shifted uneasily.
A few glanced at each other.
So looked down.
Raka’s jaw tightened further.
"They left," he said.
Sekht’s tone remained steady.
"Why," he asked.
Raka’s eyes flickered as he spoke, rembering things he likely did not enjoy rembering.
"We are criminals," Raka said. "Thugs. Robbers. We take from those who can afford to lose. We punish those who deserve it. We do not sell poison to children. We do not cut down civilians for entertainnt."
A few of the n nodded subtly, as if clinging to that as the last shred of pride they still owned.
Raka continued, voice rougher now.
"So of them beca bored," he said. "They wanted more blood. They wanted easy money. They started killing anyone who looked weak. They started selling illegal drugs. Not small things. Not quiet things. The kind that ruins bodies and turns people into walking hunger."
His lips curled with disgust.
"I tried to stop them," Raka said. "They laughed at ."
The thugs’ faces tightened, rembering.
Raka’s fist clenched once.
"A chaos rank two left with thirty-plus people," he said. "And the rest I kicked out. Or I broke them until they ran."
Sekht listened without visible reaction.
He did not care about Raka’s morality.
Not because he admired killing.
Because he had learned sothing in purgatory that cities liked to forget.
Every place had predators.
So wore armor.
So wore smiles.
So wore law.
It was not his job to clean the entire city. He had just returned. He had a business to save, enemies to handle, power to build. If the city guards could not handle criminals, that was the city guards’ sha.
But it was useful information.
Because it ant Raka’s group was smaller than it could have been.
It ant Raka’s group had fractures.
It ant there were more criminals out there — another gang, another faction, another pressure point.
Sekht nodded slowly.
"So there are no more mbers in your group," Sekht said. "This is it."
"Yes," Raka replied instantly.
Sekht’s mind moved.
"Fifty-three bodies.
Fifty-three food sources.
Fifty-three potential ghouls.
Fifty-three eyes and ears in a city full of secrets."
He did not allow his expression to change, but sothing cold and practical settled in his chest.
He had not planned to build an underworld faction.
He had planned to hunt and feed quietly.
But Null did not reward quiet forever. Null rewarded preparation. Null rewarded leverage. Null rewarded those who built foundations that could survive pressure.
Sekht looked down at the thugs again.
They still did not understand.
They still believed this was a temporary nightmare. That Raka would snap out of it. That so hidden trick would break.
They did not realize that Sekht did not need Raka’s heart.
He needed his blood.
Sekht asked, "Did you bring any of your people into my city streets?"
Raka shook his head once.
"No," he said. "We do not bring underground problems into the city openly. The association would punish us if we caused trouble that spilled above."
Sekht nodded.
That rule mattered. It ant there were boundaries. It ant the underground market association had teeth.
Which ant this place, as lawless as it felt, still belonged to soone.
And Sekht was not yet interested in fighting the association.
Not until he understood them.
Bat Bat yawned on his shoulder.
Then she whispered, half asleep already, "Master talk too much."
Sekht ignored her.
His gaze returned to Raka.
"Are there any other threats in this hideout," Sekht asked.
Raka’s voice remained steady.
"No," he said. "You broke them."
Sekht’s eyes flicked briefly across the hall, observing injuries, observing fear, observing who stared too long.
He saw one man with a swollen lip staring at him with too much defiance.
The man’s eyes had the look of soone who hated uncertainty more than pain.
That kind of man was dangerous.
Because fear did not control him. Pride did.
Sekht stored that face in his mind without reacting.
Then he spoke calmly.
"I have fed on most of you," Sekht said. "Not enough to kill. Enough to remind you that your blood belongs to your body only if I allow it."
Several n shuddered. One man swallowed hard.
Raka’s hands twitched once, as if resisting the urge to step forward and apologize on Sekht’s behalf for them even existing.
Sekht continued, tone unchanged.
"I have not fed on Raka," he said. " and the two strongest."
He looked at Raka.
"Bring them," Sekht ordered.
Raka turned imdiately.
His eyes landed on the two almost rank two n who had followed him earlier. Both were injured, but not broken. Both stood stiffly, trying to hide fear behind anger.
Raka’s voice hardened.
"Forward," he snapped.
The two hesitated. It was a brief hesitation.
But Raka noticed. His eyes narrowed.
The n stepped forward quickly, like dogs realizing the leash had beco a whip.
They approached the raised seat and stopped a few steps away.
One of them —the tiger blood— glared at Sekht. He did not speak. But his eyes said enough.
Sekht stood up from the stone seat slowly.
The hall tensed.
He stepped down from the platform, moving closer until he stood in front of the two n.
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