Kring! Kring!

The system's alarm blared, dragging Silas out of sleep like clockwork at 4:30 AM, when most people were still deep in their dreams.

Annoying? Yeah. But Silas was used to it by now. Wake up, work out, repeat. In his old life, he wasn’t used waking up early and working out. But then it's different this time.

Before starting his routine, he went through the warm-ups—because the system wouldn’t shut up about preventing injuries. Not that he cared, but avoiding sore muscles wasn’t a bad deal.

After the stretches, he finished out 50 push-ups, took a breather, and finished the rest of his exercises. By 5:10 AM, he put on his hoodie and jogging pants, stepping out early in the morning.

“Shit, it’s freezing,” he muttered, hugging himself as the cold touched his skin.

The streets were dead quiet. No surprise— people were still asleep. Silas jogged down the empty sidewalks. Ten minutes in, he switched to a new workout, then hit the pavement again to keep jogging.

Huff... huff...

By 5:35, he was heading back to the turf to cook breakfast.

Huff...

A voice came out of nowhere behind him.

“Didn’t know anyone else jogged this early,” the man said.

Silas turned his head, catching sight of the guy speeding up to match his pace.

He didn’t respond, just gave the man a polite smile. But then he really looked at him. Black hair, tall—maybe 6 feet—and wearing a workout jacket and pants. Silas recognized the man but he kept his face neutral.

What the hell is he doing here? Silas thought, keeping his pace steady.

The guy didn’t seem to notice. “Where you from?” he asked casually, his tone light and friendly.

Silas pointed down the street. “Just straight ahead,” he said, keeping it vague.

“Oh, cool. What’s your name?” the man asked, his smile widening.

“David,” Silas lied without hesitation. Never give your real name to strangers. But in this case, Silas wasn’t just being cautious—he knew who this guy was.

The man nodded, not pressing further. “Alright, David. Nice to meet you.” He suddenly picked up speed, easily pulling ahead. “See you around!” he said, waving as he disappeared into the distance.

Silas kept jogging. He didn’t slow down until the guy was completely out of sight.

There was a time when Silas worked under a gang leader, taking on dirty jobs like taking out rivals or handling contract kills.

That leader, back when Silas followed his every order, had built an empire of influence in the country of Itavia. He didn’t start out with power; he clawed his way up from nothing in this small city, relying on his fists, betrayals, and a burning ambition.

“Silvan, huh?” Silas muttered as he crossed the street toward their turf.

Silvan was now the leader of Redline, a rival gang. More importantly, he was the younger brother of Severin—the current leader of Silas’s gang, Red Dawn.

The two gangs were more like estranged siblings. Red Dawn, the original gang, was founded by their father, Fernando Trejo, when he was already 65. Fernando decided to passed the gang to his oldest son, Severin.

Silvan, though, didn’t just follow in his brother’s footsteps. He started Redline on his own, driven by revenge and a twisted sense of reform. Silvan didn’t really care for the criminal world, but his mother’s death lit a fire in him that couldn’t be put out.

Silas knew better than anyone what was coming for both gangs. Seeing Silvan now only confirmed it—this was the beginning of the war.

~

“Whoa! You made this, Silas?” Dallas said, eyes wide as he stared at the breakfast spread on the table.

“Yeah.” Silas shrugged.

“Well, look at that. Guess you’re good at something,” Ray teased, smirking. Then, pointing at the food, he added, “You sure you didn’t poison this?”

“Relax. I’m not that petty,” Silas said, already digging into his own plate.

Dallas and Ray sat down, tearing into the food. Silas glanced at them as they ate. Everyone in this gang was so different in age, it was obvious just from looking.

Dallas was in his early 20s. Ray? Nineteen.

“Where’s Tessa? Arlo? Shane?” Ray asked between bites, looking over at Dallas.

“Tessa’s at a meeting in the main quarters,” Dallas replied, his words muffled as he chewed. “Arlo’s down with the flu, and Shane went home last night.”

“So it’s just us, huh?” Ray said, raising a brow.

“Yeah, obviously,” Dallas chuckled.

They ate in silence for a bit before Ray finished up and got to her feet. “I’m heading out. Got errands to run,” she said, grabbing her jacket.

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Silas watched her leave before turning back to his plate.

The two stayed inside, the room silent except for the sound of Dallas fidgeting.

"Pretty boring, huh?" Dallas said, glancing at Silas.

"Yeah. Don’t you have any music?" Silas asked, staring out the window.

“Oh! We’ve got some players around here. Just hope there’s music on one of them,” Dallas said, standing up to rummage through a nearby cabinet.

“Shit. Where is it?” Dallas clicked his tongue, getting frustrated as he searched.

Silas just kept glancing outside. Some guys were walking down the street, moving in sync. It looked kinda mysterious, but he didn’t focus on it for long.

“I bet Shane took it again. What the hell…” Dallas muttered, sounding defeated as he failed to find the player. “Guess no music today.”

“How about we sing?” Silas joked, glancing back at him.

“What the fuck?” Dallas blinked at him in disbelief.

“Nah, just kidding. My bad.” Silas said, quickly lowering his head in apology.

“Yeah, kid, you better fuck off with that idea,” Dallas said, laughing and waving him away like he was brushing off an annoying fly.

~

Meanwhile, in the main quarters, located in Orlith, the same city where Tessa’s turf was, a meeting was taking place.

At a large table, four people sat, each holding influence over Red Dawn's decisions.

On the left side sat Colt Giordano, a tall black man with a calm but imposing presence.

On the right side was Cassa Noir, a woman with black hair who sat with an air of quiet authority.

Next to her, Tessa. These three were the captains of Red Dawn, responsible for carrying out orders from the boss and underboss, handling recruitment, and overseeing the gang’s operations. Each had their own set of soldiers ready to back up the main crew in any mission or conflict.

At the head of the table was Severin Trejo, the boss. In his twenties, he had sharp, striking features and dark brown hair. He was the one in charge.

Beside him, sitting slightly apart from the others and staring out the window, was his father, Fernando Trejo—the advisor and a seasoned figure in Red Dawn. He didn’t speak much, but his presence was always felt.

"Nice day, huh?" Fernando said, then coughed, his voice hoarse.

"I told you, father. Don’t push yourself. I can handle this," Severin said, his voice tinged with concern.

"Just keep going with your meeting. I’ll just listen," Fernando replied, waving him off.

Severin shifted his attention to the three captains, calmly scratching his forehead.

“I appreciate you all coming out this early,” Severin said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. “But this isn’t just any meeting.”

The captains straightened up, preparing themselves for what was to come.

"We’re talking about Redline," Severin continued, his tone turning cold. "My brother's so-called 'gang,'" he added with a mocking laugh.

"They’ve been causing trouble—screwing with our business and trying to take our territory one piece at a time. We thought they were just competition at first, but now they’re getting greedy." Severin's voice grew more serious as he spoke.

"Now, while they're still short on manpower, it’s time we put an end to this. Eliminate them before they get too big." Severin said, flashing a small, calculating smile.

The tension in the room was thick, but Cassa raised her hand, breaking the silence.

"You mean, kill them all?" she asked, her tone cautious but firm.

"Maybe," Severin replied, his voice casual. "Or we can take a few of them who are useful and make them ours. But the main thing is, they need to be wiped out. They can’t keep messing with us." He slammed his hand on the table, his words hardening with resolve.

As soon as Severin finished speaking, Tessa raised her hand. Severin nodded, signaling for her to speak.

"What if we try negotiating a treaty?" Tessa suggested confidently. "But, like you said, if they don’t accept it, eliminating them is still an option."

Fernando looked at her, his gaze serious. He didn’t seem sold on the idea.

"Ha! Like that thick-headed brother of mine would ever agree to a treaty," Severin scoffed. "And we’ve got the upper hand. Why would we bother? We could crush them whenever we want."

Fernando gave a small smirk at Severin’s words, clearly agreeing with his son’s take on things.

The rest of the meeting went on, with Severin pushing the idea of elimination—no negotiations, no peace talks, just take them down.

When the meeting wrapped up, Cassa and Colt stood to leave, offering their goodbyes to Severin and Fernando. But Tessa was called to stay.

She had no idea why, but she figured it had to be important. Especially since it was Fernando asking. He was the one who took her in after her family was killed, so she knew when he wanted to talk, it was something serious.

Severin got up and walked toward the window, his back to the room, while Fernando shifted in his seat, now facing Tessa.

"Treaty?" Fernando said with a grin, his tone sharp.

Tessa's nerves were visible, but she tried her best not to show it. She was scared—terrified even—but she couldn't leave.

"What the hell's going on in that head of yours, Tessa? You crazy enough to suggest that?" Fernando's smile vanished, his voice now cold.

"You forgot how that bastard son of mine did this to me?" Fernando said, pointing to his legs—damaged beyond repair, unable to walk.

Tessa’s hands trembled, but she kept it hidden.

"Not only that," Fernando continued, his voice low, "he tried to burn this whole damn building down, along with our funds." He said then proceed to cough.

Severin, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered by his father’s outburst. It was clear he knew exactly what his father was doing, and trusted him.

Tessa’s hands shook uncontrollably, but she forced herself to stay calm. She could feel the pressure building—she was stuck. They were playing with her, and she couldn’t show weakness. She opened her mouth to speak, but Fernando cut her off.

"Now get out," he snapped, pointing toward the door. "And don’t ever bring up that treaty again, you hear me?"

Tessa stood up, bowed her head, and left without a word, not daring to look back.

"She’s softening up," Fernando said with a sigh. "We need to toughen her up again. Get her back to being the lioness she once was."

A few seconds passed before Severin spoke, still staring out the window.

"Where’s Tanya?" he asked, his voice casual.

"That sister of yours really knows how to sneak off. I tried looking for her earlier, but no luck. Probably out with her useless friends again," Fernando grumbled.

"Seriously?" Severin said, rolling his eyes as he walked toward the door.

"Hey, if you see her, give her some allowance," Fernando called after him.

"Right, father," Severin replied without looking back as he left the room.

--

BLAG!

"What the hell?!" Dallas shouted, startled by the sound of the door slamming. "Who the fuck—" He cut himself off when he saw the look on Tessa’s face.

"Tessa! How was the meeting?" Dallas asked, still holding an arm-wrestling match with Silas.

"Why the hell are you arm wrestling with that scrawny kid? With those muscle-bound arms of yours?" Tessa asked, looking for something in his coat.

"Uh... just passing time, hehe," Dallas said, glancing at Silas, who was still holding his own.

Tessa tossed a pistol onto the table.

"Damn?!" Dallas barely caught the gun, his eyes wide. "What’s this?"

"It’s a gun. And I’m warning you, it can kill idiots," she said flatly.

"Yeah, I know what a gun is. I already have one," Dallas said, pointing to the one in his drawer.

"Teach the kid. Get him familiar with it," Tessa said, turning to head upstairs.

"Right. Clear and concise. Thanks, Cap!" Dallas said, smirking.

When Dallas turned to Silas, he saw that Silas had both arms above his, clearly having won the arm wrestling match.

"Silas, you ever had an elbow to the head?" Dallas asked, raising his elbows.

"I admit defeat. But why would I bother with this childish stuff with you?" Silas said, unbothered.

"Quit talking nonsense. Now, focus. This is a gun," Dallas said, pointing at the pistol.

"I get it," Silas muttered sarcastically. "A gun. Got it, Mr. Expert."

"Stop talking shit and just listen!" Dallas growled, his veins popping from the effort.

Dallas showed Silas the parts of the gun and its functions. Though Silas already knew, he played along, pretending to be a total beginner to avoid raising any suspicions.

"Try loading some bullets into the magazine," Dallas instructed.

Silas smoothly slid the bullets into place.

"That’s right. Now, cock the gun."

"Chk."

"Now that’s al— what the fu—!" Dallas jumped back in shock as Silas aimed the gun at him.

Silas chuckled. "Gotcha, didn’t I?"

"Drop it, you idiot!" Dallas shouted, his heart racing.

Silas laughed and lowered the gun, un-cocking it.

"Fuck. You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Dallas muttered, catching his breath. "Are you trying to give me a damn aneurysm?"