Chapter 55
The office was quiet, the kind of quiet that settled after a long day and refused to leave. Elijah sat behind the desk with his hands folded in front of him while Kai leaned back in the chair to his right, one leg crossed over the other. Across from them sat Silas, his posture relaxed but his eyes alert.
Behind Elijah, the window overlooked the streets of the 9th District. The last traces of daylight were disappearing, swallowed by flickering neon signs and the glow of street lamps reflecting off rain-soaked pavement below.
For several moments, nobody spoke.
The muffled sounds from downstairs drifted faintly through the floorboards—glasses clinking together, low conversations, occasional laughter from the bar. Somewhere outside, a siren echoed in the distance before fading into the night.
Silas finally broke the silence.
"You want to know how we made money," he said.
It wasn't a question.
Elijah nodded once. "Tell me."
Silas leaned back slightly in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. The dim light overhead reflected off his silver hair while his amber eyes shifted between Elijah and Kai.
"Most of it came from the people living in the territory," he began. "The shops, apartment owners and small businesses. Every week we sent people around to collect payments."
His expression stayed calm, almost detached.
"Sometimes we called it rent, sometimes protection money. It didn't really matter what name we gave it." He paused briefly before continuing. "If someone couldn't pay, we took something else instead. Furniture, electronics, stock from their stores, and sometimes we'd break doors or windows just to make an example out of them."
Kai stopped tapping his fingers against the chair.
"The people hated us," Silas admitted. "But fear keeps people obedient."
Elijah listened quietly without interrupting.
"We also ran a small underground fight ring," Silas continued. "Nothing special, just unranked matches between low-level fighters trying to earn quick cash or settle grudges. The entry fees weren't high and neither were the bets, but the money added up over time."
He rubbed his jaw before speaking again.
"And there was the strip house on the south side of the territory. That brought in steady income too. Men spend money easily when they're looking for distraction."
The room fell silent again after he finished.
Elijah remained thoughtful for a moment before speaking.
"So if we only take ten percent from businesses, our revenue drops hard."
Silas nodded slowly. "Very hard."
Kai exchanged a glance with Elijah.
The problem was obvious. Running a gang cost money. Members needed to be paid, territories needed to be defended, weapons and supplies weren't free, and expansion required investment.
Good intentions alone wouldn't keep the organization alive.
"We have fifteen members already," Elijah said. "That number grows once we expand. We need operating money, investment money, and enough to support ourselves. Ten percent alone won't cover everything."
Kai leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he thought.
"The Thorn Wolves already had an underground fight ring," he said after a few seconds. "We can turn that into something much bigger."
Silas looked at him. "How?"
Kai's lips curled into a faint grin.
"We make it into an event. We send invitations across the entire 9th District to every gang and every independent fighter at Beginner Knight Stage." His voice became more animated as he continued. "We tell them there's one fighter they have to beat."
Silas raised an eyebrow.
"And if they win," Kai said, "they get ten thousand dollars."
Silas stared at him for a second.
"Ten thousand?"
"Ten thousand," Kai repeated confidently. "That's enough money to pull attention from the entire district."
He leaned further forward.
"People come for the prize money, but curiosity brings even more. They'll want to know who the fighter is, whether the rumors are true, whether they can win." Kai gestured toward the floor beneath them. "And while they're here, they see the bar, the territory, the people working under us. Some fighters will want to join afterward while others will come back just for the matches."
Elijah nodded slightly.
"We charge registration fees for everyone entering the tournament," he added. "Then we take a percentage from every bet placed during the fights."
Kai smirked faintly. "Five percent minimum."
Silas looked toward Elijah.
"You're the fighter they have to beat."
Again, it wasn't really a question.
"Yes," Elijah answered calmly.
Silas studied him carefully.
There was no arrogance in Elijah's voice and no excitement either, only quiet certainty.
"You're confident you can handle every challenger that shows up?" Silas asked.
Elijah didn't answer directly.
Instead, he continued discussing the plan as though the outcome had already been decided.
"We'll also add a gambling den downstairs," he said. "The bar has enough room for tables."
Kai immediately understood where he was going.
"Cards, dice, sports betting, anything people can lose money on."
"We keep the drinks cheap," Elijah continued. "Free for people spending heavily if necessary. The longer people stay, the more they gamble."
"And drunk people make reckless bets," Kai added with a grin.
Silas slowly nodded.
"The strip house made consistent money," he admitted, "but gambling brings money in much faster if it's managed properly."
Kai looked amused. "Sounds like you're starting to believe this might actually work."
Silas exhaled quietly. "I'm still deciding whether this is smart or completely insane."
Elijah ignored the comment.
"There's another source of income," he said.
Silas tilted his head slightly. "What?"
"Training."
That caught Silas off guard.
"You want to train fighters?"
Elijah nodded.
"Not everyone involved in underground fighting wants gang life. Some people just want strength while others dream about going professional someday. We offer structured training for a fee."
Kai picked up the idea immediately.
"And the talented ones who eventually join us become even more valuable. They'll already know our methods, our systems and our fighting style."
Silas fell silent again.
Outside, darkness fully settled over the district while neon lights painted shifting colors across the office walls.
"If we build all of this," Silas said carefully, "then this stops being a small neighborhood operation."
Kai remained silent.
Silas continued.
"A lower underground fight ring attracts stronger people. Advanced Knights."
The warning in his voice was obvious.
Elijah met his gaze calmly.
"Then I'll beat them too."
The answer came so naturally that it almost sounded simple.
Silas stared at him for several seconds before finally looking away.
Kai only nodded once, as if he had expected that answer from the beginning.
After a while, Silas spoke again.
"And the businesses?" he asked. "You really think they'll agree to paying only ten percent?"
"They will," Elijah said.
Silas frowned slightly. "Why?"
Elijah stood from his chair and walked toward the window overlooking the street below. The lights from the bar spilled onto the pavement while figures moved behind the glass downstairs. Some gang members were drinking while others sat near the counter as Rena treated their injuries.
"Because they understand how this city works," Elijah said quietly.
His reflection stared back at him through the dark window.
"If we don't protect them, another gang eventually takes our place, and the next gang won't stop at ten percent."
Silas remained silent.
"The people here aren't stupid," Elijah continued. "They've lived surrounded by gangs their entire lives. They understand the difference between protection and exploitation."
Kai watched him carefully from behind.
"Our members patrol the territory every day and every night," Elijah said. "They stop thieves, deal with criminals, and keep rival gangs away from businesses under our protection. That's what the money is for."
The office became quiet again.
Silas lowered his eyes slightly.
"We never protected anyone before," he admitted.
"I know."
There was no judgment in Elijah's voice, only acknowledgment.
After a few seconds, Elijah turned away from the window.
"Get the tournament ready," he said. "Invitations go out tomorrow. We start in two weeks."
Kai stood immediately. "I'll handle the registration system, betting operations and advertising."
Silas rose more slowly.
"And me?"
Elijah looked directly at him.
"You know the 9th District better than either of us. You know the fighters, the gangs and the people who matter." He paused briefly. "Help Kai build this properly."
Silas studied him for a moment before finally nodding.
For the first time since entering the office, he looked like he might actually believe the future they were talking about could become real.
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Most people destroy what they build because they only know how to take.
Fear creates obedience for a while…
but systems create power.
While the other gangs in the 9th District fight over scraps, Elijah is building something bigger.
Fight tournaments.
Gambling.
Training fighters.
Creating loyalty.
Expanding influence.
Because real power isn't about taking everything today.
It's about building something that keeps growing tomorrow.
And that's what makes the Azura Gang dangerous.
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