Chapter 310: Northern Mafia II

The recruit’s face was turning red, his eyes wide with genuine fear. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, no sound coming out except strangled gasps.

Damian held him there for another few seconds, long enough for the message to sink in, long enough for the man’s vision to start going dark around the edges.

Then he dropped him.

Thud

Pant...pant...

The man collapsed to the floor, gasping and coughing, his hands going to his throat where red marks were already forming.

Damian turned to face the room, his sharp crimson eyes sweeping across every face. Several men took involuntary steps backward, their bodies reacting before their minds caught up.

"Let me make something very clear."

His voice carried to every corner despite being barely above normal speaking volume.

"This organization has a structure... Brian acts as my second in the Northern region. What I tell him, he makes happen. Marcus has earned enough trust over these past months to speak his mind when we’re making decisions."

He took a drag from the cigar.

"The rest of you? You follow orders, you don’t question, you don’t interrupt and you... don’t offer your fucking opinions unless I specifically ask for them."

He walked slowly between the men, his presence making the room feel smaller with each step. Men moved aside to let him pass, pressing themselves against walls and equipment.

"Some of you seem to think you can just walk away if you don’t like how things are run. That once you’ve gotten your revenge, once the Shadow Council is dead, you can go back to your normal lives."

His smile was cold, carrying no warmth whatsoever.

"Let me correct that misunderstanding right now."

He stopped walking, standing in the center of the room where everyone could see him clearly.

"You joined this organization voluntarily, you put on those masks and you hunted Shadow Council operatives through the streets. You tortured them for information, you killed them and dumped their bodies where nobody would find them."

The words landed like physical blows.

"There is no walking away. You’re in this until I say you’re out. And if you try to leave before then..."

He didn’t finish the sentence as he didn’t need to. The man on the floor, still coughing and gasping, was message enough.

"Now~ Don’t look at me like that, I’m not really bad to my people."

Damian’s voice softened slightly, though the edge remained like a blade hidden under silk.

"I’ve given all of you the tools to get your revenge, resources you couldn’t get anywhere else, weapons that would cost you ten years of wages, potions that can heal injuries that would cripple you for life, protection from the Federation that lets you operate without constantly looking over your shoulder..."

He looked at each man individually, his gaze lingering long enough to make them uncomfortable.

"And a chance to actually accomplish something instead of dying alone in some alley trying to fight the Shadow Council by yourselves."

Several men nodded slightly, recognition crossing their faces.

"But that protection, those resources, that chance... it all comes with a price."

Damian crushed the cigar out on the table with deliberate force, the sound loud in the quiet room.

"The price is loyalty... The price is following orders without questioning them in front of everyone. The price is understanding that when I make a decision, it’s final."

Marcus shifted his weight but kept his mouth shut, his expression showing understanding now rather than resistance.

"If you have concerns about an order, you talk to Brian. He brings it to me if it’s worth my time. If you have information I need to know, you report it through proper channels. But you don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking, you don’t second-guess orders I’ve already given. And... you sure as hell don’t try to defend someone else after I’ve already told them to shut the fuck up."

Damian pulled out another cigar and lit it slowly, the flame from his lighter casting dancing shadows across his face.

"This is the last time I’m explaining how this works. Next person who forgets their place doesn’t get a warning. They get buried next to the Shadow Council operatives we’ve been hunting."

"..."

The room was completely silent except for the recruit’s labored breathing and the soft crackle of burning cigar.

"Are we clear?"

"Yes, Boss!"

The response came from multiple voices, immediate and firm, with a conviction that hadn’t been there before.

Damian’s expression didn’t change. He took a drag, letting the tension stretch for another few heartbeats.

"Good."

His voice became more conversational again, the shift in tone making everyone relax slightly.

"Now. Ming is sitting in a cell... He lost his wife and daughter, and watched the Shadow Council bomb them."

His eyes found Marcus.

"He spent months training until his hands bled, pushing himself past every limit, just to get strong enough to make the people responsible pay for what they did."

Marcus’s posture had changed completely. The resistance was gone, replaced by something closer to understanding and cold determination.

"And he’s locked up because we’ve been too careful about making waves. Because we’ve been worried about what the local government might think."

Damian’s voice carried brutal honesty now.

"I’m not here because I suddenly developed a conscience about Shadow Council victims in general. I’m not here to save the world or protect innocent people from suffering."

He looked around the room, making sure every man heard this clearly.

"I’m here because they killed Brian’s family, because they went after MY family during the Norrington incident. Because for months, I’ve been too busy staying alive to deal with them properly."

The raw honesty cut through the room more effectively than any inspiring speech could have.

"Now I finally have time. And I’m not going to waste it worrying about whether some police officer might be innocent or whether we’re following proper procedures."

The weight of his gaze made several men straighten their spines, their expressions hardening.

"So I’ll ask one more time."

He turned to face Brian directly, his voice becoming quieter.

"...What do you think we should do when one of our own gets taken by the police?"

Brian’s face was carved from stone, months of grief and rage compressed into four words.

"We kill them all."

Damian smiled, genuine satisfaction crossing his face for the first time since entering the room.

"Good."

He looked back at the assembled men, his crimson eyes sweeping across faces that now showed cold determination instead of hesitation.

"Let’s get it done."