The negotiations inside the restaurant lasted for hours. Shwe MaMa Gyi spoke with silver words, painting promises of power, safety, and influence.
She wove tales of her father's reach, of the Blood Gang's strength, of a life where Soe Gyi would not simply be a carpenter or a warrior.
Soe Gyi listened silently, arms folded across his chest. His dark eyes gave away nothing, but within them, storms brewed.
At last, when the candles had burned low and the restaurant owner had retreated nervously to the back, Soe Gyi placed his hands on the table and spoke.
"Very well," he said.
His voice was calm, steady, without triumph or hesitation.
"I will serve under the wing of the Blood Gang."
Shwe MaMa Gyi's smile widened, sharp and victorious. Her bodyguards exchanged glances of satisfaction. The deal was sealed.
At the capital,
Nay Min listened in disbelief. He had admired Soe Gyi's independence, his refusal to bow to fear or temptation.
Yet now the spy before him bowed low, repeating the words:
"He has agreed to join the Blood Gang."
Nay Min's lips tightened.
"Foolish," he muttered. "What a waste."
La Yung, son of the nearby town head, slammed his cup of wine onto the table.
"So he bends?" he spat.
At the mansion of Thurain, brother of the rich Durain, the news arrived with laughter.
"So the tiger-slayer has joined the wolves," Thurain said, shaking his head.
Kyaw Gyi's father, Village head Ko Gyi Kyaw, gave only a sharp laugh when he heard.
"So this is the man who maimed my son? A servant of thieves and killers? Ha! He is just another blade to be broken when his masters fall."
So it was that Soe Gyi's name, once whispered in awe as the tiger-slayer, turned into a murmur of disappointment.
He had become,nothing more than the rest: a man without ambition, a wasted flame swallowed by the shadows of the Blood Gang.
The Blood Gang's fortress perched on the edge of a sheer cliff, a jagged wall of stone overlooking a deep valley. In front of it, a wide grassy field stretched like a natural moat, waving softly under the morning wind.
Behind, the land rose into harsh, rocky terrain, difficult to traverse and easy to defend. From a distance, it looked untouchable—and it was.
Soe Gyi followed Shwe MaMa Gyi along the worn stone path that led to the massive wooden gates. His dark eyes scanned the walls, the towers, the cliff's edge.
At the entrance, two imposing guards blocked the gates. Their armor glinted in the early light, and their hands rested lightly on the hilt of their swords.
They straightened immediately as Shwe MaMa Gyi approached.
"Greetings, Lady Shwe MaMa Gyi,"
the taller guard said, bowing slightly.
His voice was polite, but his eyes betrayed his true thoughts—they flicked to Soe Gyi like a predator examining fresh meat.
The second guard, broad-shouldered and scarred, added,
"Yes, my lady. Welcome. But… who is this man with you?"
His gaze sharpened as he studied Soe Gyi from head to toe, taking in the axes at his belt, the calm strength in his stance.
Soe Gyi said nothing, only tilted his head slightly, letting them judge him in silence. The guards exchanged a quick glance, their unease barely hidden.
The taller guard's voice dropped to a challenging tone.
"Lady Shwe MaMa Gyi, forgive our curiosity, but a man of his size… of his presence… looks like he could be dangerous. Do you truly vouch for him? Or must we test his strength before allowing him inside?"
Soe Gyi's lips curved faintly, almost imperceptibly. His eyes gleamed with quiet amusement, though his body remained calm.
The grass of the field between him and the gate seemed to hold its breath, as if sensing the unspoken challenge.
Shwe MaMa Gyi's gaze hardened.
"He is with me. I am responsible for him. But if you wish to test him, know this—he is not a man you will easily defeat. You have been warned."
The guards straightened, hands tightening on their weapons. The tension was thick enough to taste, the air heavy with the promise of a confrontation.
The tension at the entrance crackled like lightning.
The taller guard, spear in hand, lunged first, thrusting toward Soe Gyi's chest with precision.
His partner, the scarred swordsman, circled wide, seeking an opening.
The grass underfoot shifted with every movement, and the wind carried the faint metallic scent of sweat and sharpened blades.
Soe Gyi stood relaxed, gripping his axe with both hands. He let the spear strike close, deflecting it with a swift pivot of his hips and a downward swing of the axe, slicing the air mere inches from the guard's shoulder.
Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal. He did not rush; instead, he let their momentum carry them, using their force against them.
The spear guard recovered quickly, spinning to strike with the butt of the spear, aiming for Soe Gyi's head.
But Soe Gyi ducked, low and fluid, his axe slicing in a horizontal arc that cut across the guard's helmet, leaving a deep dent and a line of blood across his brow.
The guard staggered, but the swordsman took advantage, lunging at Soe Gyi's side.
Soe Gyi twisted just in time, bringing the flat of his axe up to block the sword. The force rattled his arms, but he barely flinched.
With a sudden downward swing, he struck the swordsman's knee, a sharp crack echoing across the gate.
The swordsman collapsed, clutching his leg as blood seeped through his armor.
The spear guard recovered, enraged, and launched a spinning thrust aimed at Soe Gyi's ribs. Soe Gyi leapt aside, bringing the axe down in a chopping motion.
The blade caught the guard's eye, sending a spray of blood into the morning air. The guard screamed, staggering back, one hand pressed to his ruined eye, vision clouded and unsteady.
Soe Gyi's breathing remained calm, almost meditative, while the two guards struggled to coordinate, now injured and desperate.
He circled slowly, watching for the slightest misstep. The spear guard swung wildly, unbalanced, and the swordsman attempted to crawl forward, but his leg gave out.
With a sudden surge, Soe Gyi charged, the axe moving like lightning. He feinted left, then pivoted, striking the spear guard's uninjured side. The man crashed to the ground, clutching his ribs, unable to continue.
The swordsman tried to rise, but Soe Gyi brought the axe down in a controlled, punishing blow, leaving him writhing in pain and unable to stand.
The fight had lasted barely ten minutes, yet the outcome was decisive.
One guard lost an eye, the other lost a leg, and both lay incapacitated on the grass outside the Blood Gang gates.
Soe Gyi stood over them, his axe dripping with blood, breathing steady, calm, and collected.
Shwe MaMa Gyi, who had watched from the side, stepped forward.
"Impressive," she said, her voice cool, almost approving.
"You are more than I expected."
Soe Gyi wiped the edge of his axe on the grass, his dark eyes glinting faintly.
A sharp clap echoed across the cliffside as if the wind itself had struck the walls.
Soe Gyi, Shwe MaMa Gyi, and the two injured guards instinctively froze, turning toward the source of the sound.
From the shadowed gates of the fortress emerged a towering figure, muscles coiled like iron cables beneath his dark tunic.
His long blade rested casually against his shoulder, the polished steel glinting even in the soft light of morning.
Shwe Mg Mg Gyi, son of the Blood Gang leader and elder brother of Shwe MaMa Gyi, stepped forward with the confidence of a predator surveying prey.
His dark eyes swept over his sister first, a sly smile curving his lips.
"Well, well," he said, voice deep and smooth,
"if it isn't my little sister, bringing someone new to play."
He bowed mockingly, his gaze flicking to Soe Gyi.
"You have done well,"
Shwe Mg Mg Gyi continued, his eyes narrowing, a faint glint of arrogance in them.
"A man who cuts down the two guards in ten minutes is not common. Most would have died before the first swing. You have strength."
"but remember this—strength is only as valuable as the cunning that wields it."
Soe Gyi gave nothing away, standing with his axe in hand, breathing slow, calm, and deliberate.
His dark eyes met Shwe Mg Mg Gyi's for a fraction of a second, unflinching.
Shwe Mg Mg Gyi turned his attention to the two guards sprawled on the grass, one with a ruined eye, the other with a shattered leg. His lips curled into a cruel smile.
"Trash," he spat,
voice echoing across the cliffside.
"Blood Gang does not need trash. Do not think your pleas or your loyalty save you now."
The guards tried to scramble backward, fear etched deep in their faces.
"Please… my lord! Spare us! We served faithfully—"
"Silence!"
Shwe Mg Mg Gyi snapped, raising his blade. His movement was precise, fluid, and terrifyingly casual.
"Your usefulness ended the moment you failed. Now, the wolves will decide your fate."
From the shadowed corners of the cliff's edge, a low growl rose. Dozens of large, muscular wolves emerged, their teeth bared, eyes glinting with hunger and bloodlust.
They moved as a single wave of sinew and fang, surrounding the two guards.
Soe Gyi's dark eyes flicked briefly to the scene, noting the precision and cruelty of the Blood Gang's hierarchy.
He said nothing, but a faint smirk tugged at his lips, hidden beneath his calm exterior.
The guards screamed and struggled, crawling and pleading as the wolves lunged.
"No! Mercy! My lord! My life!"
Their cries split the air, raw and desperate.
Shwe Mg Mg Gyi's eyes remained cold, unmoving.
"Cry all you want," he said,
voice even and detached.
"Your strength—or lack of it—is now irrelevant. The Blood Gang does not reward weakness. It devours it."
The wolves snapped, tearing into the guards' limbs with terrifying efficiency.
Blood spattered across the grass, the guttural sounds of flesh being ripped echoing against the cliff.
The surviving guard cursed, screamed, begged, and thrashed, but the predators paid no heed.
Shwe MaMa Gyi watched with calm detachment, though her eyes briefly flicked to Soe Gyi, gauging his reaction.
Soe Gyi, for his part, remained still, dark eyes reflecting the carnage without a hint of emotion.
The lesson was clear: in the Blood Gang, weakness was annihilated without question, and cruelty was a measure of authority.
The howl of the wolves blended with the guards' cries until both men were silenced, consumed completely by their fate.
Shwe Mg Mg Gyi sheathed his blade and turned back to Soe Gyi, arrogant eyes glinting in satisfaction.
"Do you see?"
he said, voice low but heavy with authority.
"This is how the Blood Gang survives. No mercy. No hesitation. Only strength, cunning, and the willingness to eliminate all who fail."