The alley stank of piss and blood.
Ren Lei leaned against the cold brick wall, hands tucked loosely in his pockets, as he watched the standoff unfold.
On one side: half a dozen young men, barely more than boys, their jackets patched and their weapons improvised. A broken bat. A rusted pipe. A knife so dull it was more threat than tool. Their eyes were sharp with desperation, but desperation didn't count for much against what faced them.
On the other side: a dozen men in dark leather, the kind of muscle that only answered to money. They moved with the discipline of a crew used to crushing small fry. They had iron bars, chains, polished steel blades. And leading them was a thick-necked brute with tattoos crawling up his throat and a smirk plastered on his face.
"You've been squatting on our turf too long," the brute said, tapping a chain against the pavement with an easy rhythm. "Time to pay rent. Or bleed out here tonight. Your choice."
The smaller crew's leader—a boy maybe twenty, with fire in his eyes but a tremor in his voice—shouted back, "We're not paying. This is our street."
The bigger crew laughed, the sound echoing off the alley walls.
Ren Lei sighed softly, the sound lost in the tension. He hadn't planned to get involved tonight. He'd followed a lead into this district, just to see how far the syndicate's shadow stretched. But sometimes opportunities fell into your lap.
And he wasn't the type to waste them.
He stepped forward, slow, deliberate. His shoes echoed on the cracked pavement.
The brute frowned. "And who the hell are you?"
Ren Lei smiled faintly. "Someone who hates reruns. I've heard this speech before. Pay up, or die. Honestly, it's getting stale."
The laughter stopped. The brute narrowed his eyes. "You've got a mouth on you."
"And you've got bad timing," Ren Lei replied calmly.
The brute swung the chain, a wide arc meant to intimidate. The younger crew flinched. Ren Lei didn't.
He waited until the last second, then his hand shot out. Metal met flesh with a sharp crack—but instead of pain, it was the brute who staggered, his chain yanked free and clattering to the ground.
Gasps rippled through both sides.
Ren Lei let the chain drop beside him. "You mistake me for someone playing your game," he said softly. "I'm not here to bargain. I'm here to decide."
The brute's men shifted uneasily. Their confidence cracked in the face of someone who hadn't just stopped the blow but made it look effortless.
Ren Lei stepped closer, his voice still calm, almost conversational. "Here's my decision. You walk away now, and you'll keep your teeth. Stay, and I'll scatter them across the alley."
The brute tried to sneer, but sweat betrayed him. He glanced at his men. They were looking at him for answers, but all he saw in their eyes was doubt.
Finally, he muttered, "Fall back."
"What?" one of his men snapped.
"I said fall back!"
Grumbling, muttering curses under their breath, the enforcers retreated, dragging their bruised pride into the night. The brute shot Ren Lei a final look of hate before disappearing into the shadows.
Silence settled.
The smaller crew stood frozen, their leader staring at Ren Lei as though he'd just seen a ghost. Finally, he found his voice. "You… why did you help us?"
Ren Lei studied him for a long moment. The boy's hands were trembling. His men looked one fight away from collapse. And yet there was steel in their eyes. Steel—and hunger.
"You remind me of myself once," Ren Lei said quietly. "Outnumbered. Outgunned. Desperate. But still standing."
The boy swallowed. "Then… what do you want in return?"
Ren Lei's lips curved. "Loyalty."
The word hit like a thunderclap.
He let the silence stretch, let it sink into their bones. Then he continued, his tone measured. "I don't need martyrs. I don't need fools. I need people willing to fight for something bigger than themselves. You give me that, and I'll give you protection. Resources. A future."
The boy looked back at his crew, their faces etched with fear, with hope, with exhaustion. Then he dropped to one knee on the cracked pavement.
"Then we're yours," he said, his voice firm despite the tremor.
One by one, the others followed, kneeling in the filth of the alley, their heads bowed.
Ren Lei watched them carefully. He didn't see groveling. He saw the first sparks of something that could grow into fire.
"Rise," he said softly.
They rose, their shoulders straighter, their eyes burning with a new resolve.
"From tonight, you walk as mine," Ren Lei continued. "But understand this—loyalty isn't words. It's action. Betray me, and I'll break you. Stand with me, and I'll make sure the world learns your names."
The boy—no, not a boy anymore, not after this night—nodded. "What do we call you?"
Ren Lei's smile deepened. "Ren Lei."
The name rolled across the alley like a promise.
Later, under the flickering neon of a cheap diner sign, Ren Lei sat with his new recruits. They ate in silence at first, too stunned to believe the night had shifted so completely.
Finally, one of them asked, "Why us? You could've walked away."
Ren Lei stirred the coffee in front of him, watching the dark liquid swirl. "Because every empire starts with a single brick. Tonight, you're my brick. Build strong, and others will follow."
The crew exchanged glances, the weight of his words pressing down. For the first time, someone had spoken to them not as rats to be exterminated but as soldiers to be forged.
They didn't understand yet what Ren Lei was building. But they would.
Soon enough, the city would.