Six hooded and masked figures walk slowly in a forest, nearing the ruins of a small, ancient temple. Despite the wear and damage, the statues display the emblem of Balthor, the god of war, honor, and courage. They step into the ruins, finding a newly crafted table with nine seats, with one positioned at the head. They sit in silence, keeping their gazes down but glancing around.

Ethan appears from the forest, anonymized by a hooded cloak and a wooden mask. He carries two covered silver plates on his left arm. They stare at him as he sets the plates on the table.

He removes the cover, revealing seven freshly severed heads. The six visitors stand in shock as Ethan takes the head chair. "You were warned to come unescorted," Ethan says. He tuned his voice to make it deeper and gravelly. "Now that we are free of unwanted ears, we can begin."

They sit back, except for a woman who pulls out a dagger and stabs it into the table. "You think you can intimidate us?" she snarls, her eyes blazing with defiance behind her mask. "We won't be cowed by your theatrics. There are six of us here, and your blackmail won't protect you!"

The woman's grip weakens, and she collapses back into her seat as Ethan's debilitating hex drains her strength. "Do not consider yourselves irreplaceable," Ethan warns. "That being said, I understand that your relationship with your previous employer was … abusive. I intend for us to forge a mutually beneficial partnership."

They exchange glances, their expressions undecipherable under their masks. One asks, "And what do you have to offer?"

"Expertise, in each of your domains. At the cost of your loyalty," Ethan begins. He moves behind one of the men and removes his hood and mask. "After tonight, Cole Delaney will be the only person you'll interact with. You'll entrust him with a fourth of your benefits as your payment to me. He will also be your sole point of contact to request anything from me or from one another."

"Twenty-five percent?" one asks, surprise in his tone.

"Your previous employer was bleeding you dry. I have no interest in fueling your resentment, and you should all enjoy the fruits of your labor," Ethan says.

"So, that's it?" one asks. "We continue to work as we did and give you a fourth of our money because you have dirt on us."

"You didn't listen," Ethan answers. "I'll start by helping you restructure each of your business to help you thrive. And should it be needed, I will handle any threats you cannot deal with."

"Restructure our business? What do you know about the work any of us are doing?" one asks, his ego sipping in his voice.

"The first thing, and this is for all of you, is to build a hierarchy where every employee only knows his direct superior. I only had to torture a few of your goons to find your names and addresses," Ethan says.

"You tortur –" a man says, cutting himself off as he glances at the severed heads.

"I'll now take time with each of you to discuss your particular business. Anyone but Cole and our paralyzed friend can leave for the edge of the forest," Ethan orders.

As only the three of them remain, Ethan dissipates his hex. She gasps for air, grasping her neck. "You almost killed me," she says.

"I controlled the spell just enough to allow you to breathe and keep your heart beating," Ethan replies. "Your business doesn’t operate beyond the darkest corners of Opal’s lower city, correct?"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Of course not. Paying off the few guards there is costly enough," she answers.

"That's because you cannot hide your brothel. You need to show a more innocent front," Ethan begins. "Transform your establishment into a hotel where anyone can book a night; show the guards a normal, regular business. And offer your real, expensive services as massages or private parties."

She seems to think for a moment. "How can we attract clients if they cannot see what we are?"

"Organize shows in your hotels with famous bards during which your workers will approach potential clients. They should act interested and take part in their targets' discussions without ever disagreeing with them. The best would be for your clients to fall in love with their host."

"Hotels, plural?" she asks, greed filling her gaze.

Ethan sighs. "You are asking the wrong question. Of course, you should buy and manage more places, but you do not see your biggest challenge."

"What is it?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"To entertain conversation with your clients, you'll need to teach your girls to read, write, and speak as if born into nobility. They must learn about current politics and events, both in the city and in the world."

"If I do that, they will leave, taken by the first man who takes interest in them," she barks.

"Surely they will be able to convince him that they need money to repay the tremendous debt they own you," Ethan answers.

She fiddles with her fingers for a moment, thinking. "I understand. I’ll do as you suggest."

"When your proteges are educated enough, rent them to nobles as pretend partners or spouses. And relay anything interesting they hear or find to Cole," Ethan says. "Send another one and leave this place," he orders.

As she stands up and leaves, he adds, "One last thing. No children." His tone is both inquisitive and threatening.

A man sits at the table; he's broad and muscular but acts shy. Ethan opens a small notebook and quickly reads a page. "Your numbers are dwindling."

"Since the guard pays for every dead member of the Crimson Hand, adventurers have been hunting them," the man says.

"You need to stop branding them," Ethan begins. "And they are too weak."

The man straightens up in his chair, clearly offended. "And how do you propose we level up? Attack every guard and adventurer on sight? Or do you want us to go kill ourselves by hunting monsters?"

"Levels aren't the issue. They barely know how to hold their weapons, can't work together, and lack any form of courage," Ethan says. "What you need is a place to train them without attracting too much attention. You'll use the ruins of this temple to build a mercenary guild."

"You want us to become mercenaries?" the man asks. "And how do you propose we pay for the construction?"

"On the surface, yes. It will justify training a large number of soldiers. As for the cost, you'll use your troops to build it. Start with the basics: barracks, a palisade, an archery range, and a small forge," Ethan explains. He hands the man a series of papers with blueprints. "Regarding your drug sales, you'll start relying on intermediaries. Instead of using your men to sell directly on the streets, you'll sell in bulk and at a discounted price to unaffiliated dealers."

"Why would I leave money on the table?" the man asks.

"Firstly, you'll cut costs by not needing to station your men on the streets. Secondly, it'll slow any investigations directed at you," Ethan reassures. "Once your forces are trained enough, you will lend them as escorts to nobles and merchants. Anything they overhear must be reported to Cole."

The man asks, "And what if someone comes at our door to become a mercenary?"

"You should openly recruit individuals who will operate as legitimate mercenaries," Ethan replies. "However, structure your forces into separate units that do not interact to minimize the risk."

"Any other problems you have already solved?" the man asks.

"Get stronger," Ethan advises. "Prepare your son to succeed you while you're in the Realm of Ascension. You need to reach a whole new level if you are to lead a large, capable army."

Sweat forms on the man's neck. "If you're planning to kill me, just say it," he says.

'Like many lowborns, he’s been taught that the Realm of Ascension is likely to kill you or drive you mad,' he thinks. Ethan responds, "The risk of irreversible harm in the Realm of Ascension is minimal. The dangers are mostly myths propagated by the nobility to keep the masses weak." Ethan silently doubts, 'I'm not certain, but that's my best guess from what I've read.'

The man remains silent for a moment, scrutinizing Ethan, trying to discern any deceit. "I'll need time to consider that last point. But I'll follow your plan; it seems I won't need to vanish because my organization was destroyed, after all."

"You can go back to the city; send another," Ethan commands.