ANTARA'S TOWN-CENTRE CITY.
Seven figures march in synchronized rhythm, a dark elegance of black suits cutting through the sun-bleached dust.
"We’re in Antara's Town. Stay on guard," warns the man at the lead. Jacob, mostly called the Alligator. His spiky brown hair catches the light as his eyes scan the horizon. "I hear the Eagle Fangs own this dirt."
"Master, where do we stop to rest?" a woman from his crew asks.
He lets out a dry, jagged chuckle. "Worry not... we’ll rest soon. But not in this town. This place has teeth."
They enter the outskirts where life moves in a deceptive hum. Kids laugh as they sprint through alleys; strangers chat over tea. But the air is heavy. To the left, a tea shop; to the right, a restaurant—both opposites in trade, both filled with watchful eyes.
They ascend toward the seashore. At the edge of the water, tax collectors stand like vultures guarding a carcass.
"We’d love to cross," the Alligator says, stopping before them.
The lead collector pulls out a ledger. "Sign here. Fill in the names. And—" He stops mid-sentence, his eyes widening. He snaps into a defensive stance. "Hold! You're the Alligator!"
The collectors’ hands dive into their pockets, the click of pistols echoing.
The Alligator smiles, rubbing the back of his head. "Look, we can't afford trouble. Just let us cross. Eagle Fangs doesn't even need to know—"
"Shouldn't know what?"
A massive shadow looms. A mountain of a man steps out from behind the docks. Eagle Fangs. Leader of Blue Whale.
The Alligator sighs. "Sonny. You're here."
"Of course. Afraid to face me?"
"Nah," the Alligator grins. "Just passing through."
"Gang members don't cross my path without a toll."
"Sonny, we mean no harm..." the Alligator’s voice is pleading, but his posture remains coiled like a spring.
"Tell me. Where are you headed?"
The Alligator chuckles. "None of your business, man."
A woman from Blue Whale leans into Eagle Fangs’ ear. "Boss. Got intel. Mike and his crew... they were wiped yesterday on Vanilla Street. A woman did it."
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Eagle Fangs’ eyes flash with sudden murderous heat. "How? Who?"
"It happened yesterday. People say it was one woman against the world." She points a trembling finger at the Alligator’s crew. "Probably one of them. Only one route leads here from Vanilla."
Eagle Fangs rounds on the Alligator. "Alligator!" he barks, charging forward with a clenched, heavy fist.
"Step up," the Alligator commands.
Standing beside him, a woman with thick blue eyes moves like a blur, blocking Eagle Fangs’ punch with an open palm. Eagle Fangs’ men draw their guns instantly. The tension becomes palpable, a thin wire ready to snap.
Eagle Fangs draws a pistol, leveling it at the woman’s head. The woman stands firm. Unflinching. Weapon still holstered.
"Sonny," the Alligator says calmly. "What did she say to you?"
"You're the only gang to walk Vanilla! You murdered my men!"
"No. Not me. We walked in peace," the Alligator replies, his tone relaxed.
"I'm not to be lied to!"
The Alligator’s expression goes cold. "On guard."
The blue-eyed woman, and another fighter of his draw their weapons in a single, fluid motion, ready to pounce.
"Boss Eagle, stop!" A man rushes toward the scene. "These people are innocent!"
Eagle Fangs doesn't lower the gun. "What makes you think so?"
"The survivors just arrived."
Eagle Fangs’ gaze is piercing. "Bring them in. Now."
Two battered survivors are hauled forward. Eagle Fangs looks at the woman with her arm in a fresh cast. "Tell us. What happened?"
"A woman, Boss," she rasps. "She used needles as weapons. Fast. She killed Solomon, then fled into the woods. She killed everyone. She killed Mike in the end."
"How are you still breathing?"
"She broke my arm and knocked me out. When I woke, she was gone. But Boss... after Mike died, she asked for a shovel. She wanted to bury him. We refused, and she just... left."
The Alligator muses aloud, "A formidable warrior. Did you get a name?"
"No name. She was just a shadow," the survivor replies.
Eagle Fangs turns to the Alligator, his rage evaporating into reluctant respect. "Sorry, man... I didn't mean to—"
"Cut it," the Alligator interrupts. "Just let us pass. And tell me where I can find Silas."
"Silas?" Eagle Fangs furrows. "Everyone talks about him. Dude's popular, what’s the move?"
"A negotiation. Silas abducted a girl—the niece of the man who wiped out the Red Carpet goons. That man is coming for him, and I need to get to Silas first."
"Where'd you get that?"
The Alligator points to the back of his formation. A woman in a black hat and dark glasses steps forward. "Nina."
"Nina is his ex-fiancée," the Alligator explains. "She gave us the lead. She’s my mercenary. A top Level 1."
Eagle Fangs’ jaw drops. "Level 1? You're telling me this woman is a Pro?"
"In Mercury, we value power," the Alligator says. "I’m going to buy the girl from Silas. Maybe then the man will realize his place is with us."
The sun bleeds out. Night crawls in, hungry.
In a small room, Jessie struggles to put on her shirt. Every movement sends a flare of agony through her stitched waist.
"Stop, Jessie. You can't leave yet," says the man with the moustache. Kit. "It's too early."
"I need to leave," Jessie insists. Her voice is weak, but her determination is firm.
"Your wounds need time to knit, Jessie. You go out now, you'll lose more blood... you could die."
"I don't have time." She interrupts him, her eyes narrowing. "Kit, I’m leaving."
She stands, forcing herself to the door. Kit sighs, his face etched with worry. "I warned you. Gangs are a disease. You never listen."
Jessie turns, her face set like stone. "I’ll be back."
"Jessie, I'm begging you..."
She pauses, her hand trembling on the door handle. "Thanks, man. You’ve done more than enough."
"Make sure you survive," Kit says softly.
"I will."
She twists the handle and limps into the dark, a wounded wolf heading back into the woods.
Next chapter drops in 10 minutes.
Comment your body-count prediction.
