Lights flashed, sending colorful waves through the dance hall. A haze of smoke enveloped everything, adding to the darkness that spread whenever the light retreated. Rhythmic beats vibrated the floor, sending shocks through the undulating bodies shifting around in a drunk stupor.
In one of the sections overlooking the dance floor, Jaguar sank into his seat, darkness painting his face as he rested his head on his right hand. Though his glass was full, he only steered the liquid, showing no desire to enjoy the strong alcohol.
Usually, the women in his company would be all over him, but they all kept their distance right now, sensing something was wrong. The guards seemed tense as well, clearly more aware of the situation. Despite the surrounding noise, that one part of the club seemed to be blanketed in heavy silence. As the tension continued to rise, a distinct metallic sound cut through everything, followed by a deep voice.
Those whom the words were directed at understood right away, prompting them to stand up and scurry away. Once the women were gone, someone else entered the section. His height and broad shoulders revealed he was a man. The long winter coat he wore gave him a haunting look, and the hat covering his head only added to that image.
In one hand, he held a briefcase. The other movers, reaching for the hat and removing it, revealed a smooth, ink-black surface, much like the surface of a bowling ball. The rest of his head was black as well, only it wasn't his skin color, but literal ink injected into it with a practiced hand, creating the illusion of the charred remains of a corpse.
Pressing the hat to his chest, the skull-faced man bowed slightly. Jaguar watched him with mild interest, then brought the glass to his metallic mouth, pouring the liquid in the jagged gap at its center
"You'd better have something good, Jacob." Said Jaguar. "Nate was a good friend of mine. This won't blow over like the last one."
"Jeremy might not have been our best, but he didn't have to go, like he did." Skull face said. "Still, I recognize that our boys made a rash call. This will be an upfront for the mess they made."
Raising the briefcase, he held it with one arm and opened it with the other. Inside were rows of small, emerald green plates, each the size of one's palm. Staring at the case for a few seconds, Jaguar raised his gaze, his metallic gray jaws parting as he spoke.
"Verdinume?" She said. "Are you being serious right now?"
"Four million. I believe that is a sufficient price-"
Before he could finish, something went flying beside him, blowing a violent gust of air. Even as the small table shattered behind him, Jacob didn't flinch, his eyes still on the gang leader as he approached him with slow steps. Jaguar only stopped once a few inches separated them. With half of his face covered in metallic plating, his eyes and eyebrows took on the role of expressing his emotions, and right now, he definitely wasn't happy.
"I will ask you again." He said, his voice laced with restrained rage. "Are you being serious?"
Jacob didn't answer, still looking him in the eye. He closed the briefcase and let it hang by his side. Just as it looked like the tension was about to explode once more, his voice finally came out, its calmness contrasting with the situation.
"We believe someone is trying to set us up." He said.
As the words reached him, Jaguar's expression turned from a glare to a frown.
"What does that change?"
"Maybe I wasn't clear enough," Jacob replied. "By us, I meant both Black Skull and the Daggers. Their aim is likely to fuel the conflict between us. Unfortunately, we are still unaware of who they are, or what their end goal is."
"... you expect me to believe it's all the doing of some assholes we know nothing about?"
"What I'm saying is we don't believe your people killed Jeremy," Jacob said. "We can stay at each other's throats, or we can go after whoever is messing with our people." Thɪs chapter is updated by novel⦿fire.net
"Are you asking for a truce?"
"A temporary one. Our people will not target yours from this point onward. If anything happens, we ask that you investigate thoroughly before deciding what course of action to take."
Jacob's proposition was reasonable and perfectly logical. He was admitting to a mistake his underlings committed, trying to make amends while promising to catch the ones pulling the strings. Still, Jaguar didn't seem all that convinced, which showed in the laughter that burst out of him.
"First, you invade our territory, then you start targeting our members, and now you expect me to believe someone has been leading you on this entire time?"
"The choice is yours," Jacob said. "I, for one, would like to avoid being a piece in someone else's plan."
Closing his bionic jaws, Jaguar angled his eyebrow, then let out a low growl.
The words were final, putting an end to the brief discussion. Not saying another word, Jacob turned around and left. He had received the message and no longer needed to continue the negotiations.
Seeing how the leader of the Daggers had rejected Black Skull had extended, the conflict between the two gangs was about to get much worse. It was one of the expected outcomes, considering the history the two organizations share.
If things keep advancing at the same rate, it might lead to one final confrontation. A third party stoking the flames didn't matter. As far as Jaguar was concerned, Black Skull was a pain in his side, and crushing them was now a priority, even if the excuse he used turned out to be a false one.
"Have Henry investigate this," Jaguar said. "Find the rats messing around with my stuff."
[Viktor: We need to talk.]
Dante stared at the message for a long while, wishing that closing his eyes would make it disappear. He could have dismissed it with a thought, but doing so would've likely plunged him back into a deep slumber.
It was 09:30, the 7th of January 2099. Dante remembered his fixer saying he was held back by something, which is why he didn't return the day after the New Year.
Exhausted both physically and mentally, and knowing there was a lecture waiting for him, Dante wanted nothing more than to lie in bed and sleep another twelve hours. Unfortunately, there is no rest for the wicked, and so he forced himself up.
He kicked Finn awake then went through his morning routine, chugging a mug of coffee to chase away some of the drowsiness keeping him down. Before going out, he sent a message to Rose saying he had something to take care of before they could proceed with what they had planned for the day.
"This rally sucks," Finn said. "Did you have to wake me up?"
"Shut it," Dante replied. "You aren't the only one tired here."
On top of doing his part in spying on the Daggers, Finn had been spending a lot of time working on some strange gadget. Apparently, his lessons with Suzuka were already paying off, granting him the inspiration to create something new.
[And in other news, another tragedy has been averted thanks to the glorious effort of Flame Guard! With the help of their newest member, Neo-Vatra's protectors have uncovered the malicious schemes of a terrorist organization aiming to-]
The screens lining the elevator walls shut down all at once. Thinking it was weird, Dante turned to his companion who looked away at the same time, averting his gaze. Sighing, Dante decided to ignore the matter.
A short bike ride later, the two of them arrived at the Triple Jackpot. They headed to the back as usual, with Finn going to his room on the second floor to get some things he needed while Dante went to Viktor's office.
Standing in front of the door, he hesitated for a moment, unsure if he was ready for the oncoming headache. In the end, he had to force down his reluctance and twist the knob.
Things turned out differently from what Dante had expected. For one, the office seemed messier than usual, as if the fixer hadn't tidied up before leaving for his trip. Somehow, he had more papers and documents scattered around, both on the desk and the floor, making it feel as if they had never been.
"When did you arrive?" Dante asked.
"A couple of hours ago," Viktor replied as he flipped through a stack of prints. "I brought you a little souvenir. Take a look."
He motioned for one of the corners where a suitcase had been placed. Staring at it for a moment, Dante glanced at his fixer, feeling a little suspicious. He went and grabbed the black suitcase, not knowing what to expect. It wasn't too heavy or too light, and though he wanted to give it a little shake to see if he could guess the contents, he dropped the idea right away.
Placing it on one of the chairs, Dante pulled the zipper and peeled the top part off. The contents came into sight right away, and seeing the familiar grayish green box inside, his eyes gradually widened. When he whipped his head in the fixer's direction, he found him grinning from ear to ear.
"Consider it an early birthday gift."