Tase, whose real name was Theresa Calahan, woke up disoriented in the backroom of one of her exclusive clubs, 'Tragedy.' Her once-imposing demeanor had been shattered, her denim jacket now torn and smeared with blood, a stark contrast to the power she usually exuded as the club owner and leader of the infamous gang known as 'Tragic.'
Her second-in-command, a woman named Tony, who went by the nickname 'Powder' due to her penchant for drugs, hovered nervously nearby. Powder’s sweat-soaked brow accentuated her jittery demeanor.
"What the hell happened, Powder?" Tase demanded, her voice edged with anger. She tried to sit up but winced as a wave of nausea hit her.
Powder shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting around the room. She avoided Tase's gaze as she spoke. "Tase, we had a… situation," she stammered. "You got into a fight with some kid, one working for a rich lady, and, well, you lost."
Tase's piercing gaze bore into Powder. She could sense the fear in her voice. "A kid? You mean to tell me I got my ass handed to me by some child?" She clenched her fists, feeling the rage rising in her.
Powder nodded, her face bearing the marks of anxiety. "Yeah, Tase. It’s weird, but it happened." She swallowed hard. "He was fast, strong, and smart. He took you out before I got there. And then he… he did something to you. Something I’ve never seen before."
Tase felt a chill run down her spine as she recalled the last moments of the fight. The kid had used his brute force to blitz her, and then everything went black.
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A growl of frustration escaped Tase’s lips as she ordered Powder to clean up the remnants of the illicit substances spread across the table. She needed her wits about her for what was coming next.
"Get the crew together," Tase commanded, her tone authoritatively assertive. "We've got to figure out what the hell happened, and how we're going to make them pay."
Soon, her crew began to trickle into the dimly lit room, each one wearing a unique moniker that adhered to their 'Tragic' theme.
‘Hands’ - the fleet-footed thief and lookout. ‘Trap’ - the expert in poisons and covert operations. ‘Code’ - the tech genius and hacker. ‘Spook’ - the infiltrator with an uncanny ability to blend in.
Tase’s spiky pink hair fell around her face as she addressed each of her loyal followers individually, her frustration masked behind a facade of resolve.
“Hands, find out who the rich lady is. We need to know everything about her, inside and out. See if she’s connected to any higher-ups that could complicate things for us.”
Turning to Trap, she continued, “I want you to gather intel on the kid who took me down. Find out what makes him tick, weaknesses, anything we can use against him.”
She leaned in closer to Code. “I need you to dig into this ‘rich lady’ and find any digital trails, connections, or dark secrets she might be hiding.”
Finally, she turned her piercing gaze to Spook. “Spook, track down any clues related to our enemies. And I want information on this kid’s abilities, where he comes from, and who he works for.”
As the crew dispersed to carry out their tasks, a sudden hush fell over the room as Powder approached Tase, a grave expression on her face.
“Tase, you won’t believe this,” Powder said, her voice trembling. “Code found a description matching the kid in some dark web forums. They say he’s an SS-level Touched, an aura user with powers beyond imagination.”
Tase’s eyes widened. SS-level? This was a revelation that shook the very foundation of her confidence. She took a moment to absorb the shock and then sat back, her hand reaching into her pocket to pull out a joint. She took a deep, calming puff.
With her hardened resolve, Tase knew she had a monumental task ahead. It was time for Tragic to live up to its name and show the rich and powerful that they weren’t invincible in her city.