“Hello there, Luca.” Tristan crouched next to me. I groaned, my hands tied behind my back. Dried blood ran down from the crown of my head, and I barely processed that as I felt his fingers cup my chin and turn my face. He settled my vision on those stupid fucking shades and dumb ass tattoo on his head. The bastard smiled. “Well. You got me the one I requested. I take it Yang Pengfi was satisfied that I kept to my end of the deal?”

“Of course. Apologies. We’re aware you requested minimal harm. The young master may have—“

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m aware of how these things can be.” Tristan let my head drop, and I shifted slightly, taking in where we were.

A defunct gambling den with chairs draped over the felt tables. The whole place had a reek of stale tobacco and dust. But the thing that gave away where we were was the disused rat-roulette table—tucked away in the middle of Uptown, back in the same gambling den that sparked all of this. Of course, it was now empty aside from me, Tristan, and a bald, middle-aged man wearing the Getsu sect robes.

“Your information was satisfactory. Gratitude for your guidance.” The man bowed his head, hands formed in a ball to touch against the top of his skull. “May your father’s ventures continue to see success, and your path prove long and fulfilling.” Tristan waved away the comment.

The man gave one more bow, to which the Captain returned. After this, the Getsu sect member left the den. Tristan paced around, not saying a word to me as he messaged someone on his phone. I took the chance to try my bonds. The ropes dug too tight into my wrists; I couldn’t break the restraints. Even after kidnapping me and tossing me into this gambling den as his prisoner, the fucker didn’t spare the proper time to deal with me. Finally, Tristan closed his phone and returned his attention to me.

“You know why you’re here?” He asked.

“It aint been a month.”

“Do you realize how stupid it would be to give an actual date for your attack away to your target? I said a month because I know you and knew you wouldn’t expect me to strike sooner. Easy to understand, right?” He tapped the side of his head. “Though, you’ve always been a bit slow. Quick to act, sure. I’ll give you that. But really, the only thing that kept me from hitting you sooner was your Lieutenant. Pesky. Now he’ll be too busy sorting out the situation with that other dimwit before trying to track you down.”

“What do ya mean? Where’s Bruno—Eve—“

“Part of my agreement with the Getsu sect included handing him over. I have no use for Seventh Division trash. Though you earned my personal attention.” Tristan checked his watch and clicked his tongue. “You saw me kill Till. I’m sure you’ve spread that information to whoever you could. But I’m not worried. No one cares anymore. They see my value, and even if they suspected me, to begin with, it’s better for them not to question it.”

“Fuck you!”

“Mhmm. Always jumping to insults.” He stood up, then slammed a foot into my side without a moment of warning. I cried out at the violent pain.“Why is it a street rat like you thinks he’s equal to me?” The foot banged against my ribs again, a nasty crack this time. Breathing became painful. “I can’t stand it.” He reared back for a third kick but stopped himself.

He then cocked his head back and laughed.

“I thought about your punishment for a while. It’d be too easy to leave you bleeding out here; death isn’t fitting. I want you to despair. I want to break you. For you to finally understand your place as a rat and crawl away from me.” He leaned down again, whispering in my ear. “I’m going to end the Seventh Division. Then you’re going to beg your way into my good graces.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I kept silent, grimacing at the feeling of my broken ribs with every breath I had to take. Tears formed in the corner of my eyes.

“You respond when I speak to you.” Tristan’s fingers wrapped around my neck, digging into my flesh and taking away the ability to breathe. I twisted and struggled. Black stole the edge of my vision as those iron-like claws dug into my throat.

I thought I was about to die before he finally let go. I gasped for air, even with the shooting pain in my side, greedily trying to suckle in every bit of air I could.

Tristan stood up and straightened his captain jacket. “There will be two more fights with the Crimson Eagles. Your Captain is holding an emergency meeting regarding your absence and Bruno’s upcoming duel. Unfortunately, the Seventh Division meeting will be ambushed by the Crimson Eagles. They’re desperate and believe their only option to get out of this fight is an outright slaughter of the Seventh Division. All in the hopes of getting the rest of the Brass Kings to back off.”

He pulled out his cuffs, shaking his head as if it were tragic news. As if there wasn’t a fucking psychotic grin on his face. Tristan checked his watch once more.

“I’ll have one of them record the fight so you can see your friends die. Someone will record Bruno’s duel and subsequent defeat.”

I froze in place. “Why? Why are you doing this?”

“Nothing pisses me off more than ignorant defiance ever since you joined my squad. My Division. You refused to cooperate and fall in line. I see it in your eyes—that lack of respect, that disdain. You think you’re better than me—me. I won’t stand by a simple street rat not bowing his head. Even now, you ask me why I’m doing this.”

“Tell me, fucker.” I spat out, rage sparked into an inferno inside, letting me burn past the fear of him taking out my friends, my family…

“Because I can. You’re going to be an example to everyone. Viceroy—even the Brass King. I will not rest until I’m where I deserve to be.” Tristan gave me an evil smile. “I’ll be by later today, Luca. Things are going to heat up quickly. The fallout from this should be enough to tie the Viceroy’s hands for quite some time.” The crazy fuck walked out of the gambling den. I heard him speak to a couple of others watching the outside, but then he was gone.

My heart raced. I knew the motherfucker was crazy. But how could I have predicted he’d go this far? I thought maybe he’d try to stick a knife in me. That wouldn’t have been so bad. Not that I intended to go without a fight, but the last month left me prepared for the possibility of a violent conflict. I felt confident in myself and my new power. Even if now, that confidence rang false.

But targeting my Division? My friends? My family?

Monster.

Everything hurt. But there was one thing he hadn’t accounted for. Tristan assumed I’d remained at the Soul Seed stage. He’d tied my hands in a way that made it impossible to active my Soul Ability on myself.

He’d probably thought that a street rat like me never stood a chance at breaking through.

I’d take anything I could get. I pulled at my Soul—a single crow Manifesting from my back. I mentally shouted my desires at it; the faithful Manifestation began to chew on the ropes, freeing my hands. I leaned over, grimacing at the pain in my side while still somehow pulling off the ropes around my legs.

I looked at the entrance to the joint, knowing he’d stationed at least one guard. Were it just me at risk, I’d have rushed out and taken my chances against the motherfucker. But if I didn’t make it out of here, I wasn’t the only one who’d suffer.

Kayson, Eve, Suzaki, and Bruno. I couldn’t afford to fail. Each step was a jolt of pain, but I plodded forward. Making my way out the back. For the first time in a long time, I chose the option with the least risk. I went into the alley where Tristan had broken my ribs before, creeping my way into Uptown. I didn’t have a phone, and my bike was somewhere in the Lantern District. But I pushed forward in my bloody kimono. Kayson’s apartment wasn’t too far from here.