Bargen once was a big boss in the Underground. He commanded over one hundred men in his own little slice of paradise on the back streets. Clubs, drugs, and weapons. He had his hands on it all and wanted to become an Underground Lord himself someday. That changed the day he met Mister Deadman for the first time.

Bargen leaned back on his couch at the table in the furthest corner of his club. Beautiful women were sprawled around him, and his arms rested across the top of the couch. It was a good life, and Bargen wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Woon.

Vahn, one of his more musically talented men, played his horn on the center stage. His solo was well worth the price of the drinks Bargen charged, and his patrons were smiling and having a good time across his club.

"Boss." Michael, his second, approached him with a stack of papers. "Here's the results of the most recent job."

"Good." Bargen smiled, leaning forward and leafing through the paper. "How much did we get?"

"One hundred thousand from Central," Michael said as Bargen reviewed the numbers. "Five hundred thousand from Westside."

"And no one can track it back to us?" Bargen nodded. "We'll be set for the next stage of the operation. We're moving up in the world, partner!"

"Yes, sir." Michael smiled.

Rhaa.

Bargen's entire organization was drim, the designated servants of the world. If they operated on the surface, they would have to serve nobles. In Undertown, they should have served the Underground Lords. It was Bargen's business to change that. He would become the first drim to gain real status in the Underground, and the six hundred thousand dolers were just the first step in his operation to take the lowest seat among the Underground Lords.

"It's all about territory, Michael," Bargen said with a wide smile plastered across his face. "We control enough territory, and they can't refuse us. This six hundred thousand will let us buy the guns and men we need to take out Bacia's base. Once we turn him over, we'll have his territory, and they'll have to respect us."

"That's what I'm talking about, boss."

Boom.

A loud echo shot through the club, and all the patrons went silent instantly. Bargen froze. It sounded like the noise had come from outside. However, he didn't move. He had good men outside. They could handle any problems. That was precisely what Bargen paid them for, after all.

Boom. Boom. Thump.

More loud noises and a hit against the door at the club entrance drew more attention. Even Vahn's music faded to nothing. Michael began to stand, but Bargen kept his seat. He was the boss. He would move last if it were needed.

Boom. Crack. Thump.

Michael flinched as the door cracked open and fell in, exposing the dark club to the light of the nearest building in Undertown. Several people reach out to block their eyes from the sudden light. Drim and the many different disparate people of the Underground's full forms were revealed in that light. Whether they were human, fishfolk, argent, or anything else, all were welcome under Bargen's umbrella of safety.

The bulk of one of Bargen's guards blocked the door, but his feet weren't touching the ground at all. Bargen's eyes widened, and if he had a heart, it would have been racing in his chest. Something was very wrong, and it was confirmed when his man fell to the ground to reveal the man that had been holding him up.

The person was a human, devoid of the sickly pale skin of the drim. He wore a pinstripe suit and a fedora and was almost as tall as his guard had been. He was as thin as a pole, whereas his guard had a broad, muscular body.

That was the very first time Bargen saw Mister Deadman, and it was also the last time he walked around a free drim. If he could return to this moment, he would have made himself run. He would have made sure that they had never touched the banks. All of his dreams were doomed once they entered Lord Bacia's territory.

"I'm here because I heard people were being uncool in my boss's territory," Mister Deadman said as he raised one hand to tilt his fedora over his eyes. "Who is the boss around here? Lord Bacia sends his regards."

"Who do you think you are?" One of his men stood up, pulling out a pistol and pointing it at the intruder. "No one comes into our territory and causes trouble!"

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Bang.

Before Bargen could even issue the order, it was already done. Tony pulled the trigger. After all these years, Bargen had almost forgotten the man's name, but that was it. The bullet flew through the air like it was moving in slow motion. Bargen figured that was part of him reliving the experience. In reality, it had been a mere second before his entire world fell apart.

"Bone Yard."

From the ground, skeletal bones erupted around the man, encasing him in a wall. They didn't stop at defense, however. Skeletal frames shot up from the ground all around the club. Boney arms grabbed onto patrons and his men alike. Each one of them was drug down into the ground in moments.

The screams. Bargen remembered the screams the most, even all these years later.

When it was over, it was just Bargen and Michael left. Bargen hadn't even made it out of his seat. His men were decimated. His patrons were scattered or dead, their heads the only thing remaining buried above the ground. In mere moments, his operation had been rendered completely defeated. All it took was one man.

Mr. Deadman came to him, still tilting his fedora over his eyes as he approached Bargen's table. Bargen shook, bringing in his arms and leaning forward. He expected to die that day, but that would have been too much of a mercy. No. He was made an offer he couldn't refuse.

"Lord Bacia wants you to pay back your debt," Mister Deadman said. "Come work for us, and he'll forget what you did today. All of your men are ours now. All of your territory is ours. All of your money, all of your weapons, all of your drugs are now Lord Bacia's property, you hear?"

Bargen agreed to the terms and bowed to the man. What other choice did he have to survive?

"Good. I'm glad you can be cool. Keep it up, and you'll go far."

The jobs started small at first. He and his men would be tasked to guard a part of the territory or be called to fight off a rival lord. He would lose some and recruit some more, but they would remain his men. His dream of being an Underground Lord was dashed, but he could at least still work for his men and make his living. They were forced into the situation, but it wasn't all bad.

However, Bargen would never stop nursing the heat in his belly. He would never forget what Mister Deadman had done to his men. He never met Lord Bacia face-to-face, so he focused all his anger on the perpetrator he knew. One day, he would get his revenge.

----------------------------------------

Alex looked down at Bargen. Did he pity the drim? The man had a dream once. He had wanted to go as high as he could and make his own path in the world. Sure, he had to hurt people to do it, but it sounded like Undertown was a harsh place. Alex thought back to his history courses on the United States and the stories of discrimination.

Maybe he could be a little kinder.

"What about the island." Alex turned away and looked over the railing. "What does this Lord Bacia want out there?"

"Artifacts," Bergen said. "He's digging around on there for artifacts from the past. We've never found much more than pottery and decayed books, but they keep digging, and we keep watching. Maybe someday they'll find something useful, and we'll finally be called back to Undertown, but until then, we're stuck out here."

"And you don't want to work for him?" Alex asked.

"I would have killed him that night, but I was too weak," Bargen said. "He's just too strong. If I had fought back then, we'd have died all over again. At least by groveling and promising my loyalty, we got a few more years of our life on Erth. Even if we have to live like dogs, living is better than dying."

Alex wasn't sure he could agree with that, but then again, he had struggled to survive the lab's experiments. If he hadn't hoped to escape someday, why else had he fought so hard to survive? He had to give Bargen a begrudging level of respect there.

"We've got business on that island," Alex said. "I suspect it has to do with the ruins, but I can't be sure until we get there. We'll get your people out if you help us get there and help us on the island."

Bargen's eyes widened at the offer, and Alex clenched his metal arm around the railing. He couldn't be sure they could take down Mister Deadman yet. That would depend on how strong the man was. Alex didn't know anything about Undertown or any Underground Lords, but that was a problem he would get to when it faced him. All he could do was focus on the problem right in front of him.

He needed to get to the island, and the more information he had, the more he could plan. Offering to help Bargen was just one step on that path. Alex looked at Bargen and met him in the drim's dead grey eyes.

"You're not joking," Bargen said. "Why would you go and help us out after we attacked you."

"I hardly call it an attack." Alex snorted. "No offense, but your men probably couldn't have even taken me alone. The rest of those guys down there are pretty strong, too. No. I'll help you because it helps me. All the information you can give me on the island and any help navigating it will make a difference in the long run. Me helping you helps me. Simple as that."

His face had doubt, but Alex couldn't blame him for that. He wouldn't trust anyone if he had lived Bargen's life. However, Sayed had told him often enough trust was only possible if you put your trust in someone else first. He would trust Bargen's information if Bargen would give it to him. If that worked, they might be able to work together, and Bargen could be free of his debt.

"What if Mister Deadman finds us?" Bargen's jaw tightened as he looked down at his legs. "What if you lose? Then we'll just be back to the same situation, but he'll know we betrayed him."

"If it comes to a fight, we'll beat him to a pulp," Alex said.

"You think you can take on Mister Deadman?" Bargen laughed. "You're strong, kid, but he's a Finger."

"I've gone toe to toe with two Military Police captains," Alex said with a smile. "I've survived two fights with an apostle. I'm not worried about some two-bit boss out on some random island."

That shut Bargen up, but only for a moment.

"Who are you people?"

"I'm 'Tin Man' Ortega," Alex said. "My friends down there are outlaws as well. We'll get what we want on that island, and your boss isn't going to be able to stop us."

Alex released his concentration on his metal arm, and it disappeared in a flash of electric light. He flexed his fingers as he looked down at them before he turned to face Bargen again. He was more certain of himself now, and he was stronger than he had been when he faced Lucien.

"What do you say?" He stretched out one hand. "Is it a deal?"

"Fine," Bargen grumbled, shaking his hand. "But I need my men to pilot my ship. Send them back up, and I'll take you to Nowhere."