The coastal city of Persh was a population center of around 700,000. The city started off as a fishing post countless years ago when the planet that would later be known as Valorion was first settled. Fishermen used motorized fishing boats to scour through the Inner Sea, catching whatever sea creatures they could to either feed their families or sell to other colonists for credits.
As the planet became more and more settled, fishing became more or less unnecessary. Entire fish farms were constructed, where high-tech gadgets were used to streamline the breeding, growing, and harvesting process of all types of seaborne creatures. Of course, that was managed by businessmen and corporations and had nothing to do with the original fishermen.
As the competition grew, the original fishermen gradually found themselves replaced. Still, on a planet like Valorion, there were always possibilities for wealth and prosperity. Over the years, a corporation set its eyes on the vast area of land surrounding Persh. They decided it would be a good place for farming. Granted, there were entire planets dedicated to farming in the solar system, but any capable ruler knew it was unwise to put the survival of an entire system on a few farming worlds.
As such, the fishing post became a town, which was then turned into a city that went by the name of Persh. The inhabitants of the city were mostly farmers, although a fair share of shopkeepers, law enforcement officers, and people of a thousand different careers also found themselves attracted to the population center. Every 18-hour day, farmers would make their way out of the city and take care of their vast acres of farmland.
Considering that in the 23rd-century farmers already had gadgets like drones, satellites, AIs, and all sorts of automatons to help them with their work, the fact that hundreds of thousands of farmers were still required was a testament to the size of the farmlands. The harvests of the land around Persh alone could feed many millions, and there were dozens of these farming cities across the globe.
The presence of Darkbane Prison brought little change to the people of Persh. Yes. The Darkbane Defense Ring did line up the coast lines with missile turrets and lance batteries designed to shoot any ship and people on the waters on sight. Yes. Sometimes people who ventured too close to the coastline might experience difficulty with the Planetary Network. Yet these were just minor concerns unworthy of their attention.
The small people of Persh didn't really know, or care about, the transition of power that had happened three months ago. They knew Lord Wolf and Lord Lamb, by name, but both men were just too far away from them to really matter. As a matter of fact, despite the many forms of convenient and efficient transportation, many of Persh’s citizens had never even left the city they grew up in. To them, Valoria might as well be on another planet.
One afternoon, as the light of the Red Star shined on the streets of Persh, dozens of figures made their way out of the administrative building of a particularly well-guarded dock. As they made their way onto the streets, a few citizens on the road tossed them curious glances, but all of them returned to their business just as quickly. Most of them knew who these people were since this would happen once every year. These people were the transferring guards and other personnel of the Darkbane Prison who were just relieved of their duty after a full year of isolation. There was really nothing out of the ordinary with them.
Instead of paying attention to a few guards, they might as well pay more attention to their work and maybe make a few more Imperial Credits for the day.
Most of the returning personnel immediately scattered upon reaching the streets. Some of them headed for the nearest train station, where bullet trains would take them to their home city at the speed of 600 km per hour. Others opted for duller ways of traveling, instead finding their way to nearby VFH stations, where they would pay for private rides to take them directly to where they wanted to go, presumably home.
As most of these men and women departed, one of them, a young man with black hair, actually stood still in front of the administrative office for a few seconds. He looked around the block. Three months might have been a short period of time, but after three months of incarceration, he felt like it had been way too long since he saw actual civilization.
Two of the transferring personnel walked by him, giving the young man a quiet nod as they walked by. No words were exchanged, at least not on the surface.
The young man was Alexander Wolf, and after all the fighting and scheming, he had finally made it off the Darkbane Prison.
After the entire crew of the transport ship was converted, the rest of the escape became a piece of cake. The transport ship easily made it to the heavily defended coastline. The inspectors in the administrative building, where the transfer personnel were taken to for verification of identity, had no idea all of their colleagues on the transfer ship were compromised long ago. They thought all the men and women that just returned were cleared already on the island, so they simply skimmed through the list, occasionally picking out a few from the line to answer some personal questions.
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Within half an hour, Alexander and the others were cleared by the dock and released onto the streets of Persh.
As Alexander walked along the streets of the coastal city, he couldn’t help but notice how everything was so...unreal. The sound of shopkeepers calling out to customers. The heavy steps of the pedestrians. The gentle sound of vehicle engines. Even the argument between two people who accidentally ran into each other. After spending three months in a prison filled with murderers and rapists and bringing pain and suffering to thousands, Alexander felt like an outsider in this peaceful, civilized world.
He simply didn't belong here.
Alexander paused in his steps. Slowly, he turned around and glanced at a flag flown above the administrative building. The flag was clearly a new one, depicting the head of a lamb in front of the background, which was painted with the standard Imperial color of red. It was the sigil of Count Lamb, the new Lord of System Obsidian and the man he was going to kill.
The young man drew in another deep breath before turning away from the building, this time for good. He had no intention of taking the bullet trains or the VHFs. Instead, he headed straight for the shuttle bay.
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As the administrative capital of System Obsidian, the city of Valoria was a magnificent place. Out of the 30 billion people that resided on Valorian, Valoria alone hosted 100 million. Whether it was because of security reasons or simply because they wanted more career opportunities or feelings of prestige, people flocked to Valoria, bringing with them resources and families to help the city grow to a terrifying size.
Valoria was, first of all, a gigantic city by itself. Every second of every minute of every day, millions of vehicles and shuttles drive in and out of the city. An extensive network of roads and planetways were spread out from the center that was Valoria, making sure that transportation of such a massive level was possible. Hundreds of thousands of trains enter the city via specialized lanes, feeding the metropolis everything it needs to survive, including food, medication, general merchandise, and a hundred other items the city itself couldn’t produce enough of. Tens of thousands of water pipes were connected to Valoria underground, ensuring that the city had the hydration it needed.
A lot of the residents of Valoria would rather live in the crowded city than move to somewhere else on the planet. Despite not exactly being the wealthiest, these residents considered themselves members of the upper-class simply because they lived in the same city as their Count. It brought an odd sense of pride and, of course, security. Lord Wolf tried several times to get people out of his capital to places where they could live more comfortably, but his attempts all resulted in failures.
Even though Valoria was the largest city in the entire solar system just based on sheer area, it was still not enough to comfortably host 100 million. As such, a large chunk of the city became crowded and policing these areas became difficult. The CSF simply didn't have the assets, and the will, to fully monitor these locations. They could do it, theoretically. Send enough drones into the air, deploy enough satellites to watch over every corner, and build enough security cameras, and eventually the crime rates could be lowered. But...why? Why would they waste numerous resources to keep an eye on millions of nobodies that no one cared about? Rapes? Murders? If the residents were valuable, then they would have had the opportunity to leave those poor districts. If they didn't...well, then they didn't deserve the protection of the CSF.
Yes. Imperial Nobles hated crime in general as they were, technically, stealing from them. They hated criminals so much that many criminals who were arrested were simply put to the torch. But it was one thing to order the execution of captured murderers and thieves and another to take resources that could've been used to build warships and spend them on policing people who offered little value in return.
The Southern districts of the city were especially overpopulated, and there were more crimes there than the rest of the city combined. The CSF patrolled and operated in these districts, but there was only so much they could do. This situation resulted in the formation of many criminal organizations in the Southern districts, including the Allen family.
These organizations would operate in the shadows, collecting revenues with all sorts of illegal methods such as kidnapping, blackmailing, stealing, and murdering. Some of them were known for selling narcotics while others employed legions of prostitutes as a source of income. These organizations would also frequently attack the turf of each other in an attempt to seize control. Many of them had small armies of enforcers. Nothing that could remotely be compared to the CSF, but still enough to pose a threat to the commoners and each other.
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A shuttle made its way toward a shuttle bay in Valoria. As the shuttle moved, Alexander stared out of the window and looked down on his city. Returning to his home after three months put Alexander in quite the nostalgia, but it also served as a stark reminder that while the city was as prosperous as before, one thing was different.
It now belonged to a new Lord.
When Alexander saw the Lamb sigil once again on the side of the road, he almost wanted to laugh. Having the head of a lamb on a flag or a uniform just wasn’t the same as having that of a wolf. He understood why his father chose the name Wolf as his new last name upon ascension to nobility, but he never found out why Lamb’s father decided to take the name Lamb. Really? Of all the animals to choose from, lamb?
For countless times before, Alexander found it funny that the Wolf and the Lamb were best friends who have fought together for a decade. Yet the cruel irony was that in the end, it was the Lamb who slew the Wolf, and it was the Lamb who burned millions alive to solidify his claim to this system. The Wolf’s system.
As the shuttle landed, the young man quickly recovered his thoughts. This was no time to be nostalgic. He still had a plan to carry out.
Tossing the shuttle pilot some credits to cover the ride, Alexander drew a deep breath and made his way into the streets of Valoria, and he was heading right for the Southern districts.