"Looks like the talks fell apart."
Van looked coldly over the chaos in the conference hall. He had honestly expected at least a little substance from a room full of so-called important people.
"You'll get used to it."
Silco rested one cheek on his hand, elbow propped on the table, calmly watching the room. His gaze lingered a little longer on the few men shouting at him the loudest.
"Silco, did industrial runoff seep into your brain? You think getting rid of Vander means you get to stand over the rest of us?"
"Vander, Vander, Vander..." Silco's eyes suddenly turned cold, like a snake about to strike. "You really do miss him. Need me to send you to see him, Iverson?"
Click.
Van casually lifted a chair and jammed it tight through the conference-room door handles.
That sudden move instantly put every bodyguard in the room on alert. One after another, they pulled concealed weapons from inside their coats.
Small axes. Short swords. Knives. Even steel knuckle-dusters.
"Looks like no one here is very committed to the rules."
Then Silco turned to Van, who still looked perfectly unbothered.
"So you really came in empty-handed? That honest?"
"Didn't I bring my fists?"
Van cracked his knuckles and looked down at the armed men with open disdain.
"Silco! You had your chance to do this the easy way!"
"I'm sick of living low, drinking the filthy runoff topside dumps on us and pretending we ought to be grateful for it. And now, I can lead you to something more... respect, pride, everything topside refuses to give us."
Silco lit a cigar with practiced ease, as though the room were not on the edge of violence.
"So tell me..." He took a slow drag. "Would you rather stay a nobody? Or rise with the tide?"
Slash.
"Urgh—"
Iverson's eyes went wide as he stared at the short blade piercing through his chest, the tip already staining his collar red.
"Finn... you..."
"Sorry, boss!"
Finn gripped the dagger tighter. Under the horrified stares around the room, the light in his eyes only grew brighter.
It was the look of ambition.
Then, all at once, Iverson grabbed him by the jaw.
The sheer force in his hand was terrifying. In a heartbeat, Finn's jaw twisted under the pressure. A man who had ruled for this many years had never survived on luck alone.
Iverson put every last ounce of strength into his thick forearm. The crack of bone was enough to make teeth ache, and the pain nearly blacked Finn out.
He twisted the knife frantically in Iverson's chest. Blood poured out in waves, and at last the strength in Iverson's hand began to fade.
"Hey! You little bastard, have you lost your mind?!"
A man with a metal jaw brace slammed a hand on the table and surged to his feet, shouting.
"You—"
He got no further.
His vision blurred, and in the next instant a fast-moving figure was already in front of him.
"You talk too much. Take this first."
Van dropped his weight low and exploded upward with a savage uppercut straight into the man's metal jaw.
The force lifted the heavy body clear off the ground, almost a full meter into the air, before it crashed back down in a heap, dead or close enough.
Van bent down, planted a foot on the man's body, grabbed the metal jaw brace with one hand, and tore it free in one brutal yank.
"No good. Not even close."
He wrapped the blood-smeared piece of metal around his fist like a crude knuckle-duster and looked coldly at the stunned room.
"I think all of you should come at me together."
...
...
Bang!
After dropping the last man still resisting, Sevika sagged back against the wall, breathing hard. She had taken a few injuries herself.
"Boss! We're done here!"
"Good..."
Sevika pushed herself upright. They had still been outnumbered, and even with Shimmer on their side, it had taken real effort.
Her chemtech arm, especially, had become more burden than help. After slipping that vial of Shimmer to Van, its power source had run dry, and now it hung uselessly from her shoulder.
Still, she did not stop to rest. She gathered the others at once and led them toward the conference room.
The closer they got, the stranger the atmosphere became.
Wasn't it a little too quiet?
Sevika reached the door and twisted the handle, but it would not budge. Something was bracing it shut from the other side.
"Move!"
She shouted and stepped back two paces, ready to break the door down.
But just as her size-nine boot was about to slam into it, the door suddenly opened, and Silco appeared in the doorway without a trace of expression.
"Huh?!"
Sevika nearly jumped out of her skin. She yanked herself off course at the last second and almost threw her back out doing it.
"Did you finish what I told you to do?"
"I... yes. It's done."
"Good."
Silco straightened his clothes, which were only a little disordered, then looked around and said, "Clean this up. I want it spotless before dawn."
"Yes."
Only then did Sevika get a real look through the half-open door.
Bodies were scattered all over the huge conference room. Weapons of every kind lay thrown across the floor. Every man who had been beaten down wore the same ruined look, faces swollen and crooked, as if they had suffered the beating of a lifetime.
Even half the gang bosses who had been sitting at the table earlier were down among the bodies. The few still left standing had their heads lowered and their mouths shut, fear plain on their faces.
Thud. Thud.
Van hauled one man up by the collar and punched him twice more, knocking out what remained of his rotten yellow teeth before tossing him aside.
He was breathing hard. Going bare-handed against blades had left him with several new cuts.
"You probably didn't really need me for this."
"What are you talking about?" Silco said. "I needed you here. Master of the Lanes."
Van paused.
Then a knowing smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He dropped the twisted, ruined metal jaw brace from his hand and slowly swept his gaze over the few men still standing in the room.
Each one ducked their head lower the moment his eyes touched them.
Van let out a soft laugh and headed for the door.
As he walked, he pulled a small dark-green bottle from his pocket, tipped it back, and swallowed nearly half of it in one go. The sharp, gamey taste made his stomach lurch.
Then he glanced at the equally battered Sevika and tossed her the rest. With her mechanical arm hanging dead, she nearly failed to catch it.
"Drink it."
"What is this...?"
"My latest creation. Let's call it... a compound tonic."
[End of chapter]