Haze, Zeke, and Fredric arrived at the Gun-Barrel shortly after their escape from District 17. As they stormed inside, Zeke wasted no time. He began flipping chairs and tables, his voice sharp and commanding as he ordered everyone out.

From the backroom, Calisto emerged, drawn by the sudden chaos. Her eyes scanned the scene, briefly landing on Haze, who stood nearly naked, his clothes tucked carelessly under his arm. Their eyes met, and for a brief second, Calisto’s cool composure cracked—her face flushed as she looked away. Haze, ever indifferent, merely tilted his head in acknowledgment.

“I’m going to change,” Haze muttered, heading toward the bathroom. The others hurried into the backroom.

Fredric and Zeke burst through the door, their appearances disheveled and ragged. Antonio, Isaac, and Hanna were seated around a table, mid-conversation with a local businessman. The room smelled faintly of cigar smoke, and the remnants of unfinished drinks lingered on the table.

Zeke’s voice cut through the quiet: “Everyone, out! Except you three!” he barked, eyes wild with frustration.

One of the businessmen stood up, puffing out his chest. “Hey, what the hell? We had an appointment!”

Zeke didn’t even glance his way before shoving him aside with one hand. “Fuck off!”

Isaac, visibly shaken, stood up from the table. “What’s going on? What’s the rush?”

Zeke paced the room, his fists clenched tight. “We’ve got a grade-A fucking problem on our hands.”

Hanna raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “What could be so bad? Is it about the gathering?”

Fredric scratched his head. “Yes and no. It’s more complicated than that.”

Antonio’s temper flared, his voice rising. “Well, then get on with it! Tell us what’s going on!”

Before Zeke could answer, Haze strode back into the room, now fully dressed, with Calisto trailing behind, her face still flushed. “They found out the representative they left alive is the kingpin. And now, no matter what they do, they’re stuck. Either they abandon the Undercity to fend for itself without any corporate backing or…” Haze’s voice trailed off, dark with implications.

Antonio’s face went pale. “Father?!” he gasped, his voice a mix of shock and confusion.

Haze ignored him, casually dropping onto the couch. “Oh, and by the way, you’re out of toilet paper.”

Hanna, still processing the situation, looked incredulously at Haze. “How did he get here? Wasn’t he locked up in District 17?”

Fredric answered with a weary shake of his head. “He was.”

“They freed me,” Haze said with a smirk, “pissing off your big boss in the process.”

“We need to deal with the representative,” Zeke said, slamming his fist onto the table, frustration laced in his voice.

Fredric grinned. “Shall I call Nolan?”

Haze rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t recommend that. Remember what I did to the guy?”

Antonio leaned forward, smirking slightly. “Oh yeah, you killed his receptionist and trashed his building.”

Fredric waved it off. “Nolan didn’t care about that building. Had it rebuilt in days.”

“Fuck it,” Zeke muttered, getting to his feet and making for the door.

“Wait!” Hanna called after him, rushing to catch up. “Where are you going?”

“To the Trade Center,” Zeke replied, his voice determined. “I’ll figure it out when we get there.”

Haze rose from the couch, a sinister grin spreading across his face. “Count me in.” He gave Fredric a calm glance, a wordless invitation.

Fredric shrugged. “Why not?” he said, joining them.

As they left, Antonio stood frozen, his fists clenched in frustration. “You stay here, Antonio,” Haze said without turning back. His voice was cold. “You’re all but useless when it comes to talking.”

Antonio’s body went rigid, his gaze locked on his father’s retreating figure, the distance between them growing wider with each step.

The group arrived at the Trade Center, its scaffolding and cranes looming over them like a mechanical skeleton. A massive green and yellow sign hung covered by a tarp, waiting to be unveiled—a garish symbol of the megacorporation’s dominance over the city. Inside, the previously lavish decor was being stripped away, replaced by cold industrial steel and green accents. The atmosphere was oppressive, the noise of workers redecorating drowning out all sense of civility.

“We’d like to meet with Nimid’s representative, Waine South ,” Zeke said, approaching the receptionist’s desk.

The woman behind the counter barely looked up from her terminal. “Mr. South is busy at the moment.”

Haze let out a sigh, his fingers rubbing his temple. “Of course, he is.”

Fredric leaned in, studying the receptionist. “You’re new. What happened to the last girl?”

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The receptionist shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not my place to say,” she replied, clearly nervous.

“Oh, come on,” Fredric said, leaning in further, his tone smooth. “You can tell me. I can keep a secret.” He lifted his mask just enough to reveal his handsome face, his charm practically oozing from his grin.

The receptionist blushed furiously, stammering. “She—she’s working at the Legend Hotel now.”

Fredric straightened up, satisfied. “Of course she is!” He turned to Hanna with a smug smile. She sighed, rolling her eyes as she handed over a hundred credits from her bag.

Zeke stepped forward again. “Tell Mr. South the guardians of Districts 3 and 7 are here to see him.”

The receptionist’s eyes flashed a bright blue, streams of data swirling in her pupils as she accessed the internal system. After a brief pause, she replied, “Mr. South cannot see you now. He asks that you schedule an appointment for a later date.”

At that moment, guards began to gather around the lobby, their presence subtle but unmistakable. They were clad in military-grade armor, their eyes trained on the group.

Zeke sighed. “I guess my approach didn’t work. Hanna, did you get him?”

“Yeah, he’s on the 102nd floor,” Hanna replied.

Zeke turned to Haze and Fredric. “Would you two do the honors?”

The guards, sensing the shift, raised their weapons, pointing their asSouth t rifles at the group. Workers scattered, fleeing the building in a panic. “Soul,” Fredric whispered, summoning his weapon.

As the guards opened fire, the air around the group rippled. A stasis bubble formed, stopping the bullets in mid-air, leaving the projectiles hanging harmlessly in front of them.

Fredric nudged Haze. “Your turn.”

Haze grinned wickedly. “Oh, how I’ve missed this.” His body shifted, bones cracking and muscles twisting as his form contorted into a monstrous, demonic shape. His skin sprouted spikes, and long, fleshy tentacles slithered from his back, forming a mane that writhed as though alive. His head elongated into a grotesque, triangular maw, his eyes glowing with a bestial hunger.

The transformation complete, Haze stood on all fours, an eight-meter-tall abomination of twisted flesh and rage. He let out a roar so powerful it sent shockwaves through the room, shattering glass and sending the guards flying like rag dolls.

Zeke stood frozen, his body trembling as an ancient, primal fear gripped him. This was unlike anything he had ever felt—a suffocating presence, as if death itself loomed over him. It reminded him of his encounter with the dragon, but this was worse. The sheer power radiating from Haze made Zeke feel like an insect, insignificant in the presence of a god.

Hanna grabbed his hand, squeezing his rigid fingers. “Hey, calm down. He’s on our side, remember?”

Zeke let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah… but for how long?”

Haze, now standing upright on two legs, his towering form casting a long shadow over the group, took two steps back. His digitigrade legs were thick with muscle, his body encased in dark, chitinous armor beneath the veil of squirming tentacles.

With a swift movement, Haze summoned a massive fleshy pillar from the ground, tearing a chunk of the floor beneath them. The pillar rose, the spikes wrapping around the group like a cocoon before spiraling upwards, piercing through the floors above them like a monstrous drill.

Fredric sighed. “We could’ve just gone invisible, you know.”

Haze growled, his voice deep and monstrous. “Where’s the fun in that?”

The pillar shook violently as it ascended, spikes writhing like the legs of a colossal centipede, dragging them ever higher. When they reached the 102nd floor, the tentacles unraveled, shattering the dome around them and revealing the cold, sterile office interior.

“It’s showtime,” Fredric remarked, his voice calm as he gestured to Zeke.

But Zeke remained still, paralyzed by the enormity of the moment. His eyes flicked toward the monstrous figure of Haze, and for a moment, tears welled in his eyes.

Hanna’s voice was gentle, yet filled with concern. “Are you alright?”

Zeke clenched his fists, his mind racing. Is this where it ends? After everything I’ve been through, after all I’ve sacrificed? Move, damn it! Move! He bit into his lip, hard enough to draw blood. The pain grounded him, bringing him back from the edge of fear.

He took a step forward, his face devoid of emotion, walking slowly toward the cowering figure of Waine South .

“The receptionist said you were busy,” Zeke muttered, his voice cold. “But you seem pretty available to me.”

Fredric slammed his palms onto South ’s desk. “You stirred up trouble in my district, killed innocent people, conspired to have me killed, and, worst of all, you provoked the Contractor King. Did you really think you’d get away with it?”

South ’s voice trembled as he tried to muster some defiance. “D-do you have proof?”

Fredric scoffed. “Proof? I don’t need proof. I am the authority here.”

As Fredric spoke, a black chain slithered out from his sleeve, wrapping itself around South ’s neck. “You know, I thought there was a chance I’d let you go. But I’ve changed my mind. I was far too lenient.”

South gasped, struggling against the chain. “Y-you can’t kill me! If you do—”

“If we do,” Fredric interrupted, his voice low and deadly, “the Undercity will lose all corporate backing, and a war for resources will break out between us and Lower Babel.” He grinned. “But I don’t really care.”

With a yank of the chain, Fredric flung South across the room, tossing him toward Haze. Haze grabbed him by the throat, lifting him effortlessly into the air.

“Where are you taking me?” South cried, his voice laced with desperation.

“To see the King,” Fredric replied, grinning wickedly as he pulled a sack over South ’s head.

The cocoon of fleshy tendrils reformed, twisting into a ball that hurtled through the city, arriving at District 1 in the blink of an eye.

Inside the Contractor King’s chapel, the group dragged South across the ground like a lifeless doll.

The King’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Who do we have here?”

“The kingpin,” Zeke said, dropping South at the King’s feet.

The King’s golden chain snaked out from his palm, snapping off the sack from South ’s head. He let out a delighted laugh. “So it was you! Well done, all of you.”

South collapsed to his knees, trembling. “Please, King, have mercy!”

The King chuckled, a cruel grin spreading across his face. “Mercy? You have no right to ask for mercy now.”

Zeke stepped forward. “King, I have a request.”

The King raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Keep him alive. Let him keep working for Nimid’s, under Hanna’s supervision. That way, we can learn more about the corporation from the inside.”

The King’s grin widened. “Ah, so you want to make it our own. ‘Undercorp’ has a nice ring to it.” He sighed, his excitement barely contained. “Fine, I won’t kill him. But first, the jailer will teach him a lesson or two.”

The King’s chain pierced through Fredric’s black chain, tightening around South ’s throat until he passed out.

The King turned back to Zeke, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “You’ve completed your mission. Now tell me what you want in return. Do you want to go back to Lower Babel?”

Zeke lowered his gaze, his voice quiet but firm. “I want you to free Haze.”

Haze’s eyes widened in shock. “What? Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Zeke murmured.

The King smirked. “Alright. But the gate out of the Undercity remains closed. You’ll have to find your own way out.”

Haze approached Zeke, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good kid, you know that?” His smile was softer now, almost kind.

Then Haze turned to face the Contractor King, his gaze filled with unrelenting fury. “I will leave, whether you let me or not. And remember this: I haven’t forgotten what you did to my boy. One day, you’ll enter the belly of the beast, and no matter how cunning you are, no matter how you squirm, the beast will swallow you whole. And when it shits out what’s left of you,” Haze leaned in close, his voice low and venomous, “I’ll be there to tear you apart.”

His scarlet eyes burned with vengeance, engraving his words deep into Zeke’s mind.