As Sky waited in the back room, the tension in the air was palpable. Vipers checked their guns and bullets with practiced hands. Their eyes were cold, killers eyes ready to do whatever task they were assigned.

With a few more metallic clicks, the last vipers closed their chambers. Then, the guard who had brought him in spoke to the crowd.

“This young man here has requested something from the boss.” He paused. The following words were heavy with the implications they brought, “We owe him this favour.” He then turned to Sky, “Speak plainly and tell us your request.”

The atmosphere in the room thickened as the vipers locked onto him with their eyes, sizing up the boy their boss owed a favour.

“The dogs broke into my house, hurt my family and kidnaped my brother.” Sky told them, “I need to get him back.”

A few vipers gave him an understanding nod; after all, if someone had dared to hurt one of their own, they would stop at nothing for revenge.

“Alright then, you have your orders. If you see any hostages, keep them safe until we figure out which ones his brother got.” The guard ordered the members.

“Yes, sir.” Came the reply

“Alright, move out.”

Once the word was said, the vipers started to move. They went past Sky and the guard through the door and into the shop. From there, they split into groups of five and left the shop, splitting off down different roads and disappearing into the dark. Ultimately, only one group was left, and the guard motioned towards them.

“You are with these men. If your brothers are not at the dog's main base, they'll take you back here. If he's still alive, they will find him.”

“Wait,” the old man behind the counter said, “You have a weapon, yes?”

In response, Sky pulled out Evens's knife.

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“Bring it here,” the old man told him.

Sky walked forward and placed the knife on the counter as he was bid. The old man reached down to his waist and picked up the crystal hanging there. Bringing it to the knife, he closed his eyes and ran it along the blade. As he did, the sliver of the metal began to discolour like copper over time until the blade had a menacing dark green hue.

“Once we get you back, your brother, you will give us the blade,” the old man told Sky, “consider it part of the payment.”

“Understood,” Sky replied.

Turning to the door, the vipers silently exited one by one, with Sky following them as they slipped into the night.

As they walked, they left the lights of the black market behind. With the sounds fading, the city's night seemed to have swallowed their group whole.

The six weaved through streets and alleyways, doubling back once to ensure no one was following them. After a while, when they were alone, one of the men dropped back and walked alongside Sky. He had a tall, slim figure dressed in a black trench coat with two revolvers strapped to his hips. His clean-shaven face was off-put by the messy brown hair in front of his eyes.

“Name’s Norman,” He said, “I'm the leader of this squad. That's Rook, Sam, Talon, and Duke. Stay back, keep your eyes open and head up, and we’ll watch your back.”

The other four nodded towards him in agreement with their leader. Sky gave them a nod back of his own.

“So what's the plan?” Sky asked, looking to Norman for directions.

“We plan to meet up with groups two and three near the docks. They have an old warehouse for storing weapons and other things that don't fall under the black market agreement. Once there, first, we check around and see if we can gather intel about your brother or any other hostages, then we shut their operation down.” Norman told him.

“Hopefully, they give up; this location should have just a few guards, and If our info is correct, we’ll outnumber them two to one.” This comment was added by the one Norman had pointed out as Rook. Although he wore the same black trenchcoat style as Norman, they couldn't have been more different; he was short and stubby like a ball. He had a revolver on his hip, but his primary weapons were the brass knuckles he wore on his hands, the shine of which matched his bald head.

“And if they don’t?” Sky asked.

This time, Talon answered. Unlike the others, he wore a light shirt and pants without a coat. His build was average, but he stood out due to the knives on his hips instead of firearms.

“Then we put them down like the stray dogs they are.” He sneered.

The other two nodded in agreement. Sam and Duke both wore the standard black trench coat of the vipers and were of typical build for a bodyguard. Sam had golden hair while Duke had back; both cut it short with matching gottes. Same wore a silver-plated revolver on his left hip and a matching knife on his right. Duke had a golden-plated revolver on his right and a matching knife on the left.

As they neared the dilapidated-looking warehouse, their pace slowed, and they stuck to the nearby buildings to avoid detection from the two guards stationed out front. They moved towards the meeting point. Arriving last, two other groups were already waiting; together, they made sixteen.

The other ten men were rather plain compared to the group Sky was with. They were all of the typical build one would think of as a goon: large and bulky, many with bald heads and tattoos. These teams also didn't carry any unique weapons, or at least none Sky could see. Each had a single standard-model imperial revolver and combat knife.

The three group leaders talked briefly and then returned to their teams. Norman said nothing but motioned for Sky and his team to follow; the operation had begun.