Nothing good ever came from committing robber, much less murder, in boad daylight. Even in the slums. It may be a jungle of stone and brick, but there were laws in the chaos. Granted it wasn’t always like this. Ever since that upstart came into the picture, all the bigwigs have scrambled to stamp out his influence. Still…

“Why do I have to do this!” I cried and tugged at my long black hair. 

“Quite, Daz!” Marcus shouted.

He gave me a solid kick to the back of the knee. His mana enhanced strength making me drop to the ground. The dagger in my hand clattered to the cobblestone. Seeing it drop into a puddle of runoff made my heart break. I had just bought that! It was worth a whole twenty silver! A worthy investment for a gang member. Daggers were perfectly concealable, and this one was special. The shopkeeper didn't know what it was made from, but the wood handle would perfectly fit in the hand of its wielder. Not particularly useful in combat, but having an item with any magical capability was quite the status symbol.

“You all good, Daz?” Mike whispered to me, and carried me off to the rest of my men.

“Why did father order this attack, and put Marcus in charge?” I held my head in my hands. It was midday and the weather was perfect to drink some wine by the river. Attacking the Ivaldios unprovoked seemed rash.

Mike sighed. I hated to see the man so stressed. Both his wife and mistress would come at me if he lost what little hair the man had left. He had a terrible habit of plucking them when under pressure. And by the looks of it, this, I wasn’t the only one to think this was a bad idea.

I looked over my shoulder and saw my usual crew. The stoic Borris, the muscle headed Tim, the fearful Conner, and the stressed Mike. Those four had been with me through thick and thin. From bar fights to full blown gang wars, they were by my side, and we all had the scars to prove it. Heck in Conner’s case, an eye.

“You know why. Besides being mana sensitive, he has connections with the Black Scarves Gang. Something about the current head’s favorite lieutenant marrying his cousin.” Mike grumbled. 

“Well, yeah,” I huffed, “I meant, why are we playing along with those bastards in the first place? They can’t be trusted.”

Conner’s eyes darted around and he motioned us to speak softer. “Shh! Don’t let Marcus hear you say that. You may be the boss’s son, but this operation is bigger than us. This is the first time the three big gangs, the Black Scarves, the Sevens, us, the Red Hands, cooperated on this scale.”

“You guys be acting like a bunch of wusses. Orders are orders.”  Tim huffed. 

“Oh no, I can’t believe I’m saying this, I agree with Tim,” Mike groaned. He massaged his forehead, rolling a stray hair between his fingers. I gave him a quick slap on the wrist to stop his subconscious action. 

“Come on lads! Move out” Marcus shouted. 

Over fifty Red Hand members marched off to battle. Normally it was difficult for such a large group to travel the back allies. I mean, who fails to notice several dozens of armed men? Even with paying off the local guards, others have already taken notice. Panicked pedestrians gave way, whispering amongst each other. 

They want to be seen. This is about making an example out of them. 

The Ivaldios, a rising power that appeared seemingly from thin air. They started off competing for scraps like the other smaller gang, but in under a year they had either conquered or destroyed their competitors. A sizable feat that had never been seen before in the city of Foso. 

Sizeable enough that the big three wanted a piece. To say the end results were “unfortunate” was being generous. As far as I knew, Red Hand had only provoked them a few times. Resulting in two deaths and three missing but presumed dead. These guys do not play around. But neither do the three big gangs. Each had a history spanning over a century. You don’t maintain that kind of power without spilling rivers of blood. 

The closer we got to our target, the more people began to join the procession. Like cattle being herded to the slaughter. About half of the newcomers had black scarves that they used to cover the lower half of their face. It was a symbol to the founding members who rose up from being common coal miners. 

Personally I had a hard time understanding why anyone would want to so brazenly display their gang affiliation. Sure it allowed them to terrorize the helpless masses, but it also made them stand out. If someone wanted to hunt a Black Scarf, they wouldn’t have to look too hard. 

Soon our target was in sight. We had been ordered to destroy a new gambling den that had been opened by the Ivaldios. It used to be a brothel run by the Black Scarves, taken in retaliation when the offending gang kidnapped and forced a member of Ivaldios to work here. Now, a good portion of the “merchandise” were working as dealers for the. Of their free will of course. I could respect it. Our fashionably challenged ally preferred to operate in ways that were rather unappealing to anyone with a shred of honor. 

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That is why this whole operation bugged me so much. I was unable to account for the other gangs, but Red Hand only suffered losses when they tried to encroach on Ivaldios territory. I guess they were unsettled about one day there being four big gangs in Foso. They want to pull them out by the roots while they still can.

Marcus raised a fist into the air and the forces from Red Hand stopped. The same was done by the other two gangs. There had to be close to two hundred people. It was hard to count given the cramp quarters. However, it was enough to surround the establishment formally known as the Pig Pen. Now a gaudy sign with the words Golden Boar was hanging. 

We had planned the attack when they were about to close, and the customers had all left. If our information was good, the employees should be cleaning up and counting the night's earnings. The perfect opportunity to strike. We wanted to take over the place, while damaging as little as possible. 

A large man with a shaved head and long brown beard walked towards the door. He was tall, and his sleeveless vest showcased muscular arms. More impressive was the flare of mana emanating from his body. One of the Black Scarves few mana sensitive. Including me and Marcus that made at least three. Four if you count whoever the Sevens brought. Now that I thought about it, did they even send one?

While being mana sensitive was a far cry from being mana blessed, we had one advantage over the mages. Unlike them, we could harness mana within our bodies to empower it. In close quarters combat, we had the advantage. What worried me was I had never seen him before. 

By baldies sides were two other members of his gang. They were most likely normal humans, but the way they held their weapons and carried themselves indicated they had once served in one army or another. 

“Ivaldios scum! We have you gutter rats surrounded! Come out with your hands up, and we will let you live! All we want is our building back!” Baldy shouted.

Yeah right. Only a complete idiot would believe that. 

In response, the door to the Golden Boar opened, revealing a dark hallway. No one exited the building. 

“Well that’s eerie,” I grunted and elbowed Connor. “How’re you feeling?”

He didn’t need to answer, the poor guy was nibbling his fingernails to the tips of his fingers again. A clear sign something had him spooked. Connor might be a lousy fighter, but his sense of danger bordered the magical.

“Thi-this isn’t good I tell ya,” Connor shivered. “W-we should go back.”

“Orders are orders you coward,” Tim grunted.

This was rather unfortunate, we were situated near the front, and would be expected to follow the first wave inside. The heir can’t be seen as a weakling.

After a few moments without a response. I could see quite a few veins bulge and worm across Baldy’s head. Patience seemed to be a virtue the man lacked; along with a sense of military strategy. 

“Attack! Kill any man you see! Leave the women! They are the property of the Black Scarves! Touch one without paying, and you’ll wish you were never born!”

Shouts and battle cries filled the air as footsteps thundered on the cobblestone. Unable to fight the human river, my men and I went with the flow, towards the front door. It kind of reminded me of a black maw waiting to swallow all who entered. I tightened my grip around my dagger as I entered the building. The sweat of my palm was absorbed by the porous wooden handle. Allowing me to maintain a firm grip.

The air was hot and heavy as sweaty bodies crammed against one another. Men began to yell at the people in the front to increase their pace. The lighting was so dim, I could barely make out the outlines of those running by my side. Eventually, I saw light coming from around the bend. When I turned the corner, I opened my eyes in shock.

The hallway opened up to a sizable room that was probably used as a lobby for the brothel’s clients. There was a bar, and a few raised platforms where girls would probably dance. Tables of contrasting design filled most of the empty space. They were most likely new additions meant to be used for gambling. More importantly, the place was empty. 

“They must be hiding! Find those rats and slit their throats!” Baldy shouted. His face was red with fury. 

The more unruly thugs began to flip over tables or smash chairs. Serving to attract Baldy’s ire. Some of the smarter ones were running up the sole flight of stairs to the second floor.  They had yet to realize a big problem. 

“It’s too clean.” I muttered. The unsettled feeling I was trying to bottle up burst out like a flood. My blood went cold and my stomach dropped. Turning to Connor, he had become as white as a sheet. Tears streamed down his cheeks. 

Shit! Shit! SHIT!!!

“They knew we were coming. It’s a trap!” I yelled, using mana to empower my voice. 

The volume of my voice caught the attention of everyone in the room, including Baldy.

Baldy looked like he wanted to rip me in two for interrupting the others, but raised an eyebrow when he saw me. “You’re Warren’s brat, right?”

“Yes,” I said and shoved my way towards Baldy. I could see Marcus’s unhappy scowl out of the corner of my eye. If we had the time, I would have petitioned him first. This slight would probably get me into trouble. If we survived. “Look around, this place is too clean! They knew we were coming.”

“I can see that!” Baldy shouted. “Why do you think it’s a trap?”

Was he serious? Did he not do his research? No, he was the kind of guy to solve all of his problems with brute strength.

“The Ivaldios never take a slight laying down. We just attacked one of their fastest growing businesses. They will retaliate, and if they knew we were coming ---”

I could see the realization in Baldy’s eyes as they transformed from narrowed with skepticism to alarmed saucers. 

“Boss Vince!” A skinny man ran up to Baldy and handed him a note. “I found it nailed to the bar!”

A baldy called Vince? I had never heard of such a man working with the Black Scarves. What did this mean? Did they secretly have more mana sensitive than we thought? Why reveal it now?

Cries of pain and shouts of alarm snapped me back to reality. However, everything appeared to be fine. Until I realized the noise was coming from outside. This room had no windows, so I was unable to see, but I knew the wails of the dying when I heard it. 

We had the numerical advantage, we initially had this place surrounded, but Baldy clearly brought a good bulk of our forces inside. Leaving those on guard outside vulnerable. Using mana to augment my hearing, I ignored the confused mumblings around me, and focused. This wasn’t a skill I was great at, but I hoped to estimate the numbers we were up against. I did my best to ignore the noise the dying men were making, hoping to pick up something useful. Maybe the sound of feet or an order given by the enemy leader. Instead, all I could make out were sounds I had never heard before. Weird buzzing sounds, loud pops, and small metal shards hitting the ground.

“Damn the gods!” Baldy Vince cursed. “Brat, can you read this?”

Of course the brute was illiterate.”

I quickly snatched the note and read its contents. My hands shook as my mind struggled to comprehend its threatening deeper meaning.

Dear Friends,

It would seem you wish to take back this place. Well, it is your funeral, but I am a generous man and will cover your burial costs.

Best Regards,

Arlo

Then there was an explosion, and the floor gave out from under me, plunging me down a dark hole. Above me, the rubble of the collapsing building threatened to crush me into meat paste.  

Oh, that’s what he meant.

I closed my eyes and prayed that this ended here. That my father would not continue to test this Arlo and the Ivaldios.