Scottsburg. 09:03 pm.
Old fire station No. 12
Antonio drove down the cracked street slowly. An abandoned fire station stood tall ahead, its red paint long faded, and the windows were boarded. The doors were tagged with graffiti. Antonio parked a street away. He stepped out, and a security camera tracked his approach; a black metal door slightly cracked open. He stopped in front of it, sighed, then pushed it open. It was dark inside the fire station, lit only by industrial lamps hung from chains. Two men loomed near the wall. Overhead, footsteps echoed from the metal catwalk. "Gonzalez… you're early." Kojo said. "Let's get this over with." he replied. Kojo descended the metal stairs; each clang echoed throughout the hollow station. "Aye… my boy Toni." Kojo hugged him. "Still have your father's eyes. Means you ain't lost your touch." he said."Let's skip the soft talk and get to business." he murmured. "Same old Gonzalez." Kojo chuckled. "Come. Let's walk." Two men followed as they walked through a long concrete hallway. Louder the atmosphere became, muffled shouts and the sound of bass thumped. Suddenly, people cheered aggressively. "You run a circus down here?" Antonioasked. "Basement's busy today. Recruits think they're lions." he smiled. A loud bang shook the wall. "Most of 'em are house cats." Kojo dissed. Finally, they reached an elevator shaft, which was replaced with a steel staircase that dropped down. The noises were clearer now… Kojo stopped halfway down the stairs. "Alright, listen closely. You called me for ten million… that ain't small business kid. So, here's how this works." Antonio folded his arms. "Go on." he said. "One… I'll get you the money. All of it. Clean, fast, and nothing that could fry you. Two… My people run security on your end. You don't choose 'em. You don't question 'em. You just use 'em, three… From the moment you take that bag, you're tied to me. Not like a rope. but concrete." Antonio shut his eyes. "I'm not joining your little empire." he complained. Kojo laughed. "Relax, my boy. I don't need you as an employee. I need you as an investment. And you need me, because of the storm you're about to walk into?" He pointed at the roars that erupted from below. "You're gonna need monsters. And four, the most important rule… Don't lie to me. About anything. Not what the money is for, or who's involved, and not even what you expect to happen. You lie? I will know." Kojo threatened. The basement roared again. "You ready? 'Cause once we go down there… the deal starts." Kojo nudged him down the stairs. As they reached the hallway, the air had a scent of smoke and something metallic that clung to the tongue. "Don't mind what you hear. Basements got… different departments." Kojo said. They walked past a room. A group of people lounged inside, their behavior intimate in a way that was unsettling rather than erotic. A woman held a cigarette while a man crawled to her feet. "Some folks come down here to lose themselves. Others come to find out what kinda person they really are, the meaning of life completely astray from their mind." he said.
A man screamed inside the next room. "Relax. They're debtors working off what they owe. Costs money to keep the lights on." Kojo stated. "You run all this?" Antonio asked. "I supervise it. People do what they do, as a football club has a manager and players—the same goes here… though I'm the owner of the club." he smirked. The corridor widened, and they reached the main basement. A station layout, but pipes were exposed. The lights flickered in yellow intervals. At the center of it all sat a massive steel table, scarred from years of abuse. Crowds packed all sides, people yelled and banged on the rails. The adrenaline in the air was thick enough to choke on. This wasn't a simple dice game. This was a tournament. Kojo marched proudly, "Welcome to Kayland, my boy." People parted for Kojo like water for a ship, obvious whispers followed. Ahead, three men stood with their arms crossed. "These. are my people, you'll be working with them… without working with them." Kojo said. One man had a scar that ran from his ear to his jaw. The middleman had gold teeth, and the other was silent. "Boys, this is the man I told you about. Meet Toni, he'll be y'all challenger today." Kojo held him close.
"So, this the one who needs the impossible?" the man grinned. The crowd screamed as if someone had lost. 'I thought he changed… his going to make things worse for me.' Antonio thought. The crowd surged forward as Kojo guided Antonio to the steel table. Then a bell clanged twice. The host emerged. A tall man in a silver blazer stood on a grate above the table. He held a megaphone in one hand and a revolver in the other. His face was painted like a carnival mask. Abruptly, he raised his arms. "WELCOME! Ladies and gentlemen… to tonight's main event!" he presented. The crowd whistled and screamed. "Tonight's game is Golden Dice Royale… you roll, you rise, you fall, or you crawl out missing something!" the host announced."Simple rules for round one. You roll one die. The highest number goes first. Then you roll six dice, lock the two dice you want on your first roll, then you roll again and lock another two. Then the final throw. The first player to reach one hundred crown points wins. You build your kingdom and don't forget to buy royal decrees for your aid; you could either knock a player out, or stake something personal." Kojo said. The announcer pointed to the players. "ON THE TABLE TONIGHT! We welcome our veterans! First making his return from a horrible accident, it's Marlow 'RIP Jaw' Wesson!" The crowd cheered like they were worshiping a gladiator. "Next, from the Soviet region… WE HAVE! Tango… Gold tooth! Oh. And you better not wear red for this fellow, because his horns are ready to strike, WE HAVE! Barkus the Bull! And joining us… a newcomer. A wildcard. Toni. Because the Pit is feeling a little generous… Tonight we have three more players! She's crazy and gorgeous. GIVE IT UP FOR! Lace Monroe!" A lady with a pocket knife took a seat at the table. "Our very own underground Einstein. LET'S HEAR IT FOR! Crank!" an old man sat at the table. Lastly, a tall, stunning black woman in a sublime leather tracksuit sat at the table. "You can run from her, but you can't hide. She hides in the shadows and feeds on the weak. MAKE SOME NOISE FOR! Mbali! SEVEN PLAYERS. ONE TABLE. Before we start, let all the players sign a contract." A tense silence followed as a group of women brought papers to each player. Antonio signed in along with the other players. Then, BANG! The host fired the revolver into the ceiling. "The game has begun!" he declared. Instantly, chaos erupted. Spectators surged toward the rails and waved stacks of bills; some shouted out numbers, bets on players' lives, as if it were a sport. Dealers rushed forward, and they slammed down crates of gold. Bundles of cash hit the pot. Gold watches, keys, rings, and even a prosthetic arm were tossed in. The pot became a mountain, a dangerous monument. The dealer at Antonio's side slid five gold coins for him. "Ante up." he muttered. Antonio placed his buy-in; he threw a few thick bands of money he couldn't afford to lose. "Contestants… Let the rolls BEGIN!" The host growled.