These thoughts swirled in my head, pushing everything else out, so much so that I didn't even notice a very simple thing.

"Why are you crying, bro?" Nataliel asked, slightly worried, from the opposite end of the table.

"Huh?" I didn't understand.

"Who's crying?" Natali chimed in instantly. They are always around, even when I myself don't notice it.

"Our bro is shedding tears," Nataliel nodded toward me, standing up from the table. "Why are you so sad?"

I looked at her in surprise, then touched my cheeks. Sure enough, they were wet, I hadn't even noticed.

"It's nothing..." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "Something got into my eye."

"In both? Come on. What happened?"

"Nothing..." I answered quietly.

But what I wanted to say was: you. You happened. You're dying from the impulse, and I'm forced to watch. We're all forced to watch, feeling helpless. And time is running out, leaving you no chances. The frequency of your attacks has increased, which means the end is near. And the God we so believe in... where is he?

But, of course, I kept silent. If I say this, it's Nataliel who will need comforting instead, and I'll just be the last scumbag. Because I know for sure - she thinks about the same things, exactly. There's no need to voice what everyone already knows, only making it more painful for the others.

"It's okay," she said softly and tenderly, coming over to me and hugging my head, pressing it against her chest. "You don't have to say anything. I understand everything without words."

"We all understand," Natali confirmed. "But we're together, and that's what matters. We can endure anything, right?"

"What if it's all a lie?" I asked, sounding too whiny and childlike, but I just couldn't help it. I had no strength left to act like an adult who didn't care about anything. To hide a whole hurricane under a mask of indifference. But the truth is, I'm not an adult at all - I'm just pretending to be one. "What if it's all a lie? I don't want you to die."

"Well... I won't die, don't worry," Nataliel was crying now, too, stroking my head.

Only someone who's been through something similar can understand how hard it is. All the deepest thoughts always sound naive, stupid, staged, like in a cheap theater drama. But they express the essence.

I got up from the stool and hugged her. Unlike me, she was skinny. A slender girl, not at all like me, the fatso. And she was shorter too. But that made it easier to hug her, to literally press her tightly against me, to realize that she was still here. Trying to protect her from the world around us. And feeling her emaciated body, I realized how fragile her life was, and how weak she was. I wish I could be in her place...

"My sweethearts..." Natali murmured, hugging us both. "I love you both so much."

We stayed like this until our parents came home - how long or how short, it's hard to say, but I think it was long enough. Together, we felt cozy, warm, and peaceful, as if we were in a cocoon. Perhaps Natali was somehow influencing the environment with her impulse, protecting us.

"Why are you guys sitting on the floor?" Mom asked in surprise, looking at us.

In the meantime, we had moved from standing to sitting and must have looked like a friendly bunch of people who had fallen asleep.

"We're having family therapy," Natali said, sniffling. "Brother was crying. He said he doesn't want to lose Nataliel."

That was enough for us to grow from three to five. Even Dad joined in. A restrained and tough man, he may not have cried, but he was breathing heavily and a little hoarsely. But Mom was crying; she didn't hide her fears, her pain and worries, or how tired she was. We were all tired.

But I felt lighter, as if I'd vented. As if I had lanced a boil and the pain had receded a little. But I needed to be strong. For my family. For our family. For Nataliel. To preserve all this, the warmth in our family and in our hearts. Even if I ended up behind bars, I had to do everything to make her recover. I couldn't afford to make a mistake, or I'd burn in hell with all the consequences.

***

"So, Rud, ready to engage in some antisocial activities?" Alex approached me before the last lesson, three days after I had provided certain services to him and his crew. He said it with a playful smile in his usual cheerful voice, but I felt something else in him. Some cold and, no matter how it sounded, malevolent vein. As if he himself wanted to bring violence into this world or kill someone.

"Yes. When?"

"Today. You'll come with me."

"Sure."

"And one more thing," he continued in a conspiratorial voice. I even leaned a little towards him to hear better.

"Let me copy your homework, I didn't understand a damn thing in it."

Well, Alex was Alex. Though, what did I expect from him?

After school, we left together. That day, I had taken time off work, though Alex assured me that I wouldn't need to go there anymore. But who knows, today I'm with them, tomorrow I'm alone. I wasn't planning to cut all ties behind me, so for now, I just took some time off, explaining it with family issues. I didn't even have to lie.

When I left the school grounds with him, Syringa was already waiting for us in a car on the next street. A nondescript family hatchback of Japanese manufacture, known for its increased durability. Bad roads? Not a problem. Bad fuel? Not a problem. Poor service? Not a problem. Its indestructibility could only be compared to cars from the Russian Empire, except here it was awesome durability, and there it was simply nothing left to destroy because everything was already destroyed.

"Does she even have a driver's license?"

"Of course," Alex grinned. "She's surprisingly good with the wheel, too good for a woman. Maybe she was a race car driver in her past life?"

"Reincarnation doesn't exist."

"Ah, right, you're a believer. You guys don't believe in rebirth, you all dissolve into divine light, I almost forgot. By the way, are you nervous?"

"About what?" I looked at him.

"It's your first job, after all," he smirked. "First blood, initiation, and whatever else you might be imagining…"

"I'm not imagining anything. Do you do this often?"

"Well... as it happens. See, we don't choose our targets or objectives. We're not free bandits; we have a backing too."

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"So, you're underlings? Or accomplices, like in the mafia?"

"Well... kind of... honestly, Rud, I don't get it. I just know they give us orders, we follow them, and we get money."

By that time, we had reached the car where Syringa was waiting for us.

"Good afternoon, Syringa," I greeted.

"Yeah-yeah, hi," she replied indifferently, starting the car.

"Hey, ta for waiting," Alex nodded.

"Can't you just say 'thank you'? What's that 'ta'? What rock did you crawl out from under?" she retorted irritably, pulling out onto the road and looking around.

"Come on, stop grumbling," he waved her off. "So, what were we talking about..."

"Accomplices," I reminded him.

"Ah, right. So, we work for the Hassa clan. Heard of them?"

"Yes, I've heard of them," I nodded.

I really had heard about them from my father. They operate in Khanksk, Lakeside, and a few other nearby towns, being part of the Jurchen organization itself.

Though I may not be entirely correct in this matter. You could say that Jurchen is a union of all the clans in the Manchurian Republic. Such unions exist everywhere and often have their own name.

In Japan, for instance, all criminal communities regardless of their names are called yakuza; in China, they're triads; here, we have Jurchen; in the USA, Italy, and some other countries, it's Cosa Nostra; in Kenya, and spreading throughout Africa, it's Mungiki; in South America, it's cartels or gangs; in the Russian Empire, Ukraine, Siberia, and several other countries of Eastern Europe, it's OCG. Those who don't have a special name are simply called mafia - the French mafia, the Australian mafia, the Canadian mafia, and so on.

So, all clans have their own name and territory with people, they may even be enemies, but they still form a criminal community that has gained its own name. My father told me that they even held general meetings.

Some got their name due to historically established relations. For example, yakuza comes from a bad combination in the card game Oicho-Kabu, where "ya" is eight, "ku" is nine, and "za" is three. Or Cosa Nostra - which translates from Italian as "our business."

Others got their names after the previously existing famous clans that have now become firmly associated with any criminal family in the area, or, for example, they gained it like Munguki - originally, it was a religious sect. Or OCG - although this is just an abbreviation used in documents to denote a criminal clan.

I knew most of the information about the Hassa from my father's stories and the internet. Arms and drug trafficking, racketeering, illegal business, smuggling, and sometimes kidnappings. It seems that such crimes can be attributed to any mafia.

Not the most powerful in our country, but still influential. They controlled some territories in this city - most often, troubled areas where they provided their protection from local gangs and thugs. They took tribute from some firms, and also they themselves owned such firms. Neither the authorities nor the noble houses located here would have allowed them to control the entire city, as shown in some films.

And here's another ruling power in the city. My father also told me about it.

The houses.

More often than not, a house was referred to as a union of people who were widely known as aristocracy. Somewhere, they were called dukes, somewhere - simply aristocrats, somewhere - counts, nobles, boyars, and so on. Wealthy, influential people with official business, positions, and money. And all of them were united around a single, most influential family.

That is, some ancient lineage with its own lands, or one that acquired them later, who commanded not only all its distant relatives and their kin but also random families who had simply attached themselves to them for power and money. Plus, the status had some perks and privileges from the country where the house was located.

You couldn't just buy a territory and establish your own house. Or rather, you could, but no one would recognize it as a house: neither other houses nor the state. And in some countries, you can't even buy land for personal use, so it is only yours for as long as you like.

Therefore, houses were most often formed a long time ago. Or recently, but by an influential family. Ordinary people could create their own house too, but for that, you really had to earn it from the country so that it would recognize you, or build such a business that it would be impossible not to reckon with. I'm talking about corporations. They grew to national scales, almost openly influencing the country, after which they created their own house.

Some, by the way, did not create a house, as they were satisfied with their status as a corporation - of course, they didn't get the same privileges, but everything is possible with money. On the other hand, they also had no obligations. Because creating a house is not only getting privileges but also getting obligations, being the hand of the country. Or a leg. Or even a dick, if necessary. And when problems arose, some houses literally became a butt.

If you want to establish a noble house, you must both hold privileges and have obligations. If you don't want to, that's your right. While some corporations could compete in power with noble houses, this was not the case in countries that still had a monarchy, of course.

Under monarchs, noble houses had significant privileges, great political power and could act on behalf of the ruling dynasty while enjoying enviable freedom and their own territories. But in case of any problems, this freedom could be reduced to the country's needs, and they would become more or less the hands of the monarch, albeit with their own will. To establish your own house there - you'd probably need to build a perpetual motion machine.

Under republics, naturally, there were fewer privileges, less political power, and while the houses did have obligations to the country they served, they were not as strict. As they say, less power, less problems. Also, it was easier to establish a house there, and during a war, they didn't become completely dependent on the ruling elite, maintaining their own position. They were somewhat similar to state corporations.

But one thing united the noble houses everywhere - the state depended on them, and they depended on the state, to one degree or another. Plus, each country had its own peculiarities. So, in Austria-Hungary, even though there was a monarchy and the houses were almost the closest to the crown, during a war, the Emperor could hardly control them as his own hands. It was rather the other way around there, which meant he had to listen to them. But in the Kingdom of Great Britain, the houses couldn't even utter a word during a war - there, the crown truly ruled with an iron hand.

The only ones who managed to get rid of noble houses, as I read, were Swaziland, Papua New Guinea, and Israel. There might be more... Actually, there probably are more, but I read about this a long time ago and only remember these countries. And as far as I know, they are not experiencing problems without the houses.

Back to the clans and houses: the houses wouldn't let criminal clans spread their influence so easily, as they had their own businesses, buildings, and territories in the city and suburbs. They wouldn't let some criminals interfere with them. The entire city, similar to savannah, is divided into niches, like a true animal kingdom. The houses rule big business like a large predator hunting for large prey. The clans are involved in racketeering, hold some businesses, and protect from street gangs, like a hyena dog hunting for small game.

And the gangs - they're purely jackals and vultures.

My father said that even the houses are not exactly clean. They have certain connections and agreements with the clans. As far as I understood from his words, the work that the houses can't do is done by the clans in exchange for mutual services.

But my father always called both groups criminals and disliked them. As he said, the only difference between them was that one operated officially and the other unofficially. But the reason lies elsewhere.

What irritated him was the fact that everyone was equal in the country, but the houses were "more equal than others."

Yes, the head of a noble house and an ordinary worker had equal rights and obligations, but in court, the head of a house would have a huge advantage over an ordinary person. And they would be punished differently for the same crime. This is all unspoken, of course, but everyone understands. Even between the poor and the rich, there's a disparity, let alone between different social classes.

From what I've read about monarchies, you can't even touch someone higher in status there. Depending on the country, you could be killed on the spot, punished by them, or through court. You are beneath them, and you have fewer rights.

You can learn curious things from the internet or from your father. And after that, you realize how unfair the world is and how much it doesn't care about you. Simply because someone was born into the right family and someone else wasn't.

But I never counted myself among those who regretted where they were born. I was completely satisfied with everything: my parents, my sisters, and life. The only thing that bothered me was the impulse that manifested in the twins and made everything spiral.

However, I hoped that everything would soon be corrected, and we would be able to remember these surprising, strange, and terrifying times with a smile on our faces at a family dinner. When everything will already be behind, and nothing will threaten anyone.

In the meantime, I was rolling in the car through the city in the company of my workmates, heading God knows where on my first job in the criminal world. Probably, it's about time for me to tremble with fear, but after that evening, I'm fully confident in what I'm doing. "Right"? "By law"? To hell with that. If no one can help my sick sister, then I don't care about the rest.

The car drove into a grey area of high-rises, where I had been last time. We were slowly rolling through the ambiance of despair, where the whole world had sunk into apathy and wasn't in a hurry to get out of it.

In a couple of minutes, we already turned into a familiar courtyard, splashing mud with our wheels.