The Fallen Rose had dismantled the Venomous Snakes with terrifying ease. They'd hunted down every single member, breaking arms and cracking bones until the office floor was a sea of groaning bodies.
For the Snakes, the fallout was permanent. Some of their top hustlers would never be able to pull off their sleek sleight-of-hand tricks at a gambling table again; their fingers were completely crushed. One thing was absolutely certain—none of the survivors would ever even dream of touching the Black Hounds or testing the borders of the Billion Bloodline again.
"What kind of freaks are they?" the gang boss wheezed from the floor, barely able to push himself up against a shattered table that had flipped over during the raid. "The Black Hounds were bad enough, but now the Fallen Rose too? Are they trying to force every gang in the country to form an alliance against them?"
