Santiago stared at Ethan, the casual power radiating from the young man undeniable. He had just witnessed the swift, brutal takedown of one of his best fighters and heard the explicit, cold-blooded offer of $100,000 for the Landlord's life. The math was simple: Ethan was money and protection; the Landlord was debt and pain.
"Well, Santiago," Ethan asked, his voice even, not bothering to wait for a full response. "Are you going to accept being my subordinate, or do you want to do things the hard way?"
Jason took this as his cue. He made a deliberately loud, metallic sound by racking the slide of the assault rifle, chambering a round. The sharp clack-clack echoed down the street. The gang members—despite their pistols—looked instantly nervous. Facing a trained operative with an automatic rifle was a death sentence, and their eyes darted to their boss for direction.
