"And those... Blood Angels, they have a monopoly over the distribution of drugs?"

"Nah, not all drugs. Any guy who knows his stuff can make some. No, what they have is Red Dust. Or Scarlet Sugar. Or whatever name they came up with to sell some more to idiots once the last name got too much of a bad rep."

James had left Soluble and their two knocked-out underlings in a side tunnel where he had noticed there was no wildlife, at least none that was dangerous to people, and was finally discussing the ongoing of the slums with Barry and Larry.

"What are the effects of this drug?"

"Oh you know, the usual. It makes you feel good, gets rid of stress, the works. At least those are the ones they advertise. It also makes you violent, makes you see everything in red and it ruins your body. Larry and I knew a guy, really nice but kinda dumb, a mutant. He could heal from a lot, like, once I saw a Sickler rip off his head and the next week he was back on his feet. Well, one of his friends began to take Red Dust. He proposed some to the mutant and everything was fine at first. Then his body began to groan. Turns out, he was actively regenerating whenever he got some of this trash inside."

"How long did it take?"

"Maybe a year? He got hooked on the stuff and took it whenever he could, but at one point his body's regeneration couldn't keep up anymore. He grew thinner and weaker every day until he stopped walking, then moving, then breathing. It took a day after that for him to truly kick the bucket."

"He spent an entire day as a breathless husk before he finally met his end?"

"Yeah, and it wasn't pretty."

"I fail to see how selling a product that kills its consumers is a viable practice."

"Well, the Angels aren't the sharpest tool in the shed. Besides, it worked for the last decade, why change things now?"

"Oh! Barry, don't forget about the rumors!"

"Ah, yeah. Some people say that Red Dust can be refined into something safer to use but it's more costly, so only big shots can even buy it. I mean, it's not impossible, but I'm sure someone would have figured out a way to do it by now."

"I see..."

So, it's not unlike Earth's drug scene. The worst stuff is sold out to your average junkie while the products that are the least likely to kill you are available only to rich guys, either other gang leaders or businessmen or the like. They should be easy to predict.

"And they are the most active group?"

"Well, not exactly. The Hivines are way more active in the main city but in the slums, they don't do much. Wicked Witchcraft pops up from time to time but they mostly do their own thing, usually in the city too. The same goes for the Empress. So yeah, the Blood Angels are the most active, but only in the slums. Even then, it's only because they interact with regular folks the most, I'm sure the others are always up to something in their lairs."

"Thank you for your input. How dangerous would you say they are?"

"The Hivines I don't know, the cultists are weak but there's a ton of them and if the Biflora can survive an encounter with Abrakaboom I'm sure he has a few tricks up his sleeve. Wicked Witchcraft is a mixed bunch, Abrakaboom is the most well-known one but they have a few others that give the Union some trouble. The Empress is both a celebrity and a mystery, everyone knows her but no one knows how strong she is. We only know about her robots, none of them is unique but they all pack a punch. Honestly, I'd say she and the Biflora aren't groups but just Villains with tons of underlings, but hey, if that's enough to contend with an entire illegal cabal of mages then what do I know."

"You forgot the Angels, Barry!"

"I was getting to it, Larry. The Angels are more like Wicked Witchcraft, they have a few big shots instead of a single one, as well as a bunch of Cored who act as leaders for the regular thugs. Moonfreeze isn't a warrior but she's cunning, she rarely leaves their base and usually, that's enough to fend off most intruders. Sunburn is famous for probably being the strongest Super in Zalcien, so avoid dealing with him. Finally, you got Marcus, who... Well, there is a reason why he's the boss instead of the other two. A bloody good reason."

"Thank you for your explanation Barry, but what I meant to ask is how likely they are to pose a direct threat to us, as in, how likely they are to be hostile."

"Oh, that. Not much. The Hivines try to recruit first and foremost, if you say no they'll only try another day. Wicked Witchcraft is mostly a bunch of independent cells so maybe one will try to start things up but the rest tends to keep them in check. Apart from her... Harvesting, the Empress leaves the little people alone. The Angels don't really care, as long as you don't attack them first or try to ruin their business they'll leave you alone."

"Ah, that is good to know. And in case of a conflict, what are their usual methods?"

"The Hivines and the Empress just send a bunch of minions, Wicked Witchcraft will give a warning or two before blowing their way to your base, and the Blood Angels usually send thugs, though Sunburn can show up if they want to send a message, like today."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Uh, you haven't been outside today have you?"

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Sunburn looked up at the sky, taking his time to truly appreciate the cigarette he was smoking, set into the hole in the mask he had asked for straws and the like to compensate for his lack of lips. Behind him, some random thugs that guarded the closest Angel hideout took in the spectacle before them with fear, clearly too used to the relative calm of the Black Block's surroundings.

Right in front of him what used to be the base of his latest targets was burning, the flames reaching higher than any other building in the area could ever hope to. The screams had stopped long ago, but his poor aids were still shaken. Pah, they would learn. They all did.

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High into the sky, a column of black smoke rose from the inferno he had caused and tainted the pure blue above. It wasn't the only one, either. He had been at it for the better part of the day so far, dozens of locations in the slums turning into fire and ashes that no one could miss. When the Blood Angels sent a message, they made sure everyone listened.

The insignia on his chest vibrated once then twice before he got to unhook it and place it near his mouth, Moonfreeze's annoyingly peppy voice invading his ear, filled with radio static.

"Sooo, how is it going sunshine?"

"The Bunny Biters are no more. All seventeen members are accounted for and I made sure nothing could survive the flame."

"What about the teleporting one?"

"Teleportation is useless with a broken neck."

"Oooh, fancy!"

"Do you have anyone else you need to be incinerated today?"

"Yeah, the Horrid Hoppers. They're the last guys on the list and, lucky you, they live right next to the headquarters!"

"How many does that make now?"

"What, getting old? Can't remember the number of things you burn sunny?"

"I burned two hundred and fifty-two people today, all located in a total of thirty-eight buildings. What I'm asking is how many gangs had the gall to try and double-cross us?"

"Uh, I'd expected more. Nineteen gangs, by the way."

"This isn't good. One or two idiots who get in charge and decide that making an enemy out of the local big boss happens, but nineteen? They aren't afraid anymore."

"Oh, don't be like that. They probably thought you'd spend some more time behind the bars and-"

"Moonfreeze, this isn't normal. We know now that a total of six warehouses got tricked by those fake Xerins, that's too many. Incompetence is a thing but it isn't that widespread, at least not in the same way at the same time."

"Your opinion?"

"A new mastermind wannabe showed up, or we have a traitor."

"Whoa, avoid the t-word. You don't want Marcus to hear that kind of thing."

"Yes, our dear leader doesn't need to know about our suspicions. Still, you cannot deny that is the most logical explanation."

"Yeah. It would also fit in with the lost cargo."

"Lost cargo?"

"We were missing some Red Dust in the latest drop-off. Not much, not enough to garner a fight, but a smart guy could use it to trade with shady merchants, ones who think they're dealing with an idiot."

"People willing to sell materials to make fake money with. Only an idiot would try to counterfeit Xerins, they are too easy to identify, which means fakes are cheap to make."

"Bingo. Now our smart guy has fake money, gangs who want to buy our stuff, and a plan. They directly pay him, only half the price or something like that and in exchange, he puts his fake stuff in our warehouses to bamboozle our guys. He gets money, the gangs get Dust and we look like idiots."

"Any name comes to mind?"

"No one. Our smarty-pants needs to be clever and frankly, most of our guys are as dumb as can be. The only ones I would call intelligent are smart enough to realize how stupid going against us is."

"So either he's faking being dumb or one of the known smart ones grew overconfident. I'll keep an eye out, but I leave the heavy lifting to you."

"Sunburn, you lazy cybernetic sloth! You can't just leave everything to me!"

"My job is to burn things and scare people. You're the brain of the operation here, do your thing."

Had he still had lips he probably wouldn't have been able to stop himself from smiling as he heard her begin to rant just as he hung up his insignia. Ah, youth. Sometimes you needed to remind them that just because you like to be meticulous they did not have the freedom to always rely on you.

He let his thoughts wander as he once more focused on enjoying his cigarette, ignoring the blazing inferno before him and the dozens of columns of smoke he had created today.

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

"Oh. That doesn't sound good."

"Yeah, that's the Angels for you. They don't like people messing with them. I heard this time it's because they found out a bunch of gangs paid them with fakes? Not sure, but it's safe for the rest of us. Probably."

"Well, thank you for your time and all of your explanations. You are free to go now. Could you perhaps come back Sunday, to report on the latest news and receive your next pay?"

"Oh, yeah, no problem, we'll be there boss!"

"Good, good. Well then, off you go."

"Bye boss!"

"Goodbye, Larry."

James watched them as they left, quickly making sure there wasn't any loose monster around before going back home. He had learned a lot today about the local big powerhouses and honestly, he was pleasantly surprised. He expected a city in a constant state of civil war between monsters that could destroy mountains but no, everything seemed pretty balanced. The really powerful people knew that there wasn't much to gain in fighting each other and so mostly spent their efforts on their projects. Apart from fights with justice and the Hero Union of course, because they were still Villains whose projects involved a lot of people being hurt for them to gain some benefits.

Again, not that far off from real gangs on Earth. The really big ones knew that full-blown wars weren't good for anyone, so they had fragile truces. I guess in the end, superpowers are just another type of weapon?

At least now he knew they'd probably leave him alone as long as he didn't make too much trouble, which luckily he didn't plan to.

After getting home and spending some time with the ratlings, James decided to try something new. So far his perception had relied on his weird domain-thing, which allowed him to sense everything in a certain radius around him, but he had noticed he could focus to perceive things through items he had infused, such as the black brick of the lair, his gun or the newly affected bones of that weird slime person. After his encounter with said acidic humanoid, he had realized he needed to explore his powers to hopefully find a way to attack from range instead of melee and maybe exploring his perception of infused items could help.

James focused and completely cut off his domain, instantly plunging him into a white void in which nothing existed. So far, it was pretty close to just closing his eyes, just with an inverted color scheme. Then, he focused on everything besides his domain. Right away a big black hollow block appeared in the void and he could faintly sense everything around and inside it, not as well as he would with his regular domain but enough to recognize which ratling was which and what they were seeing.

It took him some moments to get used to this perception of things even more disconnected than his regular domain before he could go on with his experiment. He tried to move his body while still only using this infusion vision, and the results were... Ok. Very clumsy and ridiculous but it worked. An unknown amount of minutes spent doing nothing but trying again and again improved his movement enough to be passable, and during that time he noticed that there was another bubble of perception, one further away from the rest. One that was vaguely humanoid.

In a blink of an eye, he was there, just in time to witness the slime person - Soluble he learned - wake up and berate their underlings as they all began to share their memories of their encounter with him. The things that were said weren't always flattering but at least he was glad his persona worked. Out of sheer curiosity, he stuck to them, watching and listening as they went on about their day, surprised by the dozens of columns of black smoke in the sky but quickly getting over it. They met with a few people, robbed some, paid others, and just chatted with the rest.

James couldn't help but have a mental wince every time they brought up their meeting with him, calling him "the silhouette in the sewers". What kind of name was that? It was like the name of a boss monster in a video game that closed off a series of quests about weird disappearances. Not that the core idea was bad, in fact, he kinda liked "silhouette". It was a pretty fitting name, people would only see the bare minimum of him without getting to know the person inside. They would see the facade, the persona, not the real him, not James.

Plus it sounded cool. That was a very good thing to have for a name.

Hence, as he witnessed Soluble, Mark and Jeffrey retell their tale once more in a dilapidated bar completely drunk, he cemented his decision. From now on, his persona would be Silhouette.

Besides, it wasn't like many people would hear about it, right?