Juan had full confidence in Blanca.
Blanca was the top-tier enforcer under his command, a gold-class brawler whose strength was unmatched. With him stepping into the ring, the outcome should've been a guaranteed victory.
On the other side of the boxing ring—
"Jackie, want me to take your place?"
The duels only prohibited the use of firearms; they said nothing about cyberware. In fact, by 2077, it was already common for boxers to enhance themselves with implants. Gorilla Arms, especially, had become standard issue for any serious fighter.
Jackie glanced down at Marcus and the rest of Padre's crew standing below the platform. He slowly pulled on his gloves. "Leo, I appreciate it, but this is something I have to do myself."
Leo followed his gaze and instantly understood what Jackie was thinking. If Leo stepped in and won, it wouldn't change anything—the men under Padre still wouldn't recognize him. Only if Jackie defeated the opponent himself would their acceptance be real.
"Alright then. Good luck, Jackie."
Leo jumped down from the ring and melted back into the crowd.
A glint of blue light flashed in Lucy's eyes as she received a comm signal. "Want me to step in?"
"Not for now. But if things go south, act—just try not to let outsiders notice."
Lucy gave a barely noticeable nod.
V asked worriedly, "Leo, do you think Jackie can win?"
Leo gently squeezed her palm. "He'll win. No matter what, he will win."
...
Ten minutes later, Jackie had Blanca in a chokehold. The enforcer struggled wildly, slapping at Jackie's arms, but it was no use. The grip around his neck only grew tighter, inching closer to cutting off all air. Just as he was about to pass out, the pressure suddenly released. Blanca collapsed forward onto the ground, gasping for breath with both hands clutching his throat.
"You should've killed him!"
"Trial by the Saint of Death only ends with one victor!"
"Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!"
Jackie ignored the shouting crowd and yelled back. "We offer our enemies to Santa Muerte, not our own brothers. When we fight amongst ourselves like this, the only ones laughing are the 6th Street bastards."
Then he extended his hand toward Blanca. The man hesitated for a moment before gripping Jackie's hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.
The entire crowd fell silent.
Trial by the Saint of Death duels had been a tradition since the Valentinos were founded. Jackie was now the first man to win without killing his opponent. But could that even be called a win?
Seeing the others still frozen in silence, Leo raised his arm high and shouted, "Jackie Welles!"
V and Lucy quickly followed his lead. "Jackie Welles!"
Then Marcus and the rest of Padre's crew joined in. "Jackie Welles!"
One cheer after another rippled through the crowd, growing louder and louder.
Juan, Gonzalez, and Hernandez stood there with grim expressions—especially Juan. Blanca had been his prized enforcer, and he'd still lost. This was after Juan had already bragged to Gonzalez and Hernandez that Blanca would easily crush the fight.
"What the hell are you standing there for? Making a damn fool of yourself—get over here! We're leaving!"
Blanca looked at Juan, then turned to the victorious Jackie basking in the crowd's praise. A cafty look glinted in his eyes.
In the end, he made his choice. He walked up to Jackie and knelt down on one knee in a show of loyalty, pledging himself to Jackie's command from that moment forward.
Juan's face went pale, but he said nothing more. He turned and walked away with his crew. Gonzalez and Hernandez also led their people toward the warehouse exit, offering no acknowledgment or comment.
Only Gustavo and Manuel stepped up with their own men to offer congratulations.
"Wait. Who said you could leave?"
A voice rang out suddenly. Juan and the others blinked—and saw Leo standing at the warehouse door, blocking their way.
"What do you want?"
"The duel is over, but none of you have made a statement. Don't tell me you plan to walk away and pretend this never happened?"
Juan's face darkened. That was exactly what he'd been planning. Sure, it was shameless. But what kind of boss actually played by tradition and rules? That stuff was for brainwashing underlings into dying for the cause.
A real boss didn't tie himself down with codes. Rules were made by those in power—not for those in power.
But now, with so many eyes on him, Juan couldn't openly dismiss the duel, not unless he wanted rebellion from within his own ranks.
In the end, Juan had no choice but to grit his teeth and admit defeat. He gave his word that he would no longer make a move on Padre's territory. Only after Juan, Gonzalez, and Hernandez all made loud public declarations did Leo step aside and let them go.
As Leo watched them leave, he knew this didn't mean things had turned for the better. Their plan to take Padre's turf had failed, yes, but they wouldn't be offering any support going forward either. No matter how bad things got from here, they would sit back and watch, doing nothing.
The Clemente family of 6th Street, however, would not stop their offensive against Padre's people. Everyone knew the rule: strike when the enemy is weak. The Clementes would not ignore such an opportunity.
The Valentinos were fractured and divided. If the Clementes succeeded in wiping out Padre's faction, the entirety of Heywood's Vista del Rey would fall into the hands of 6th Street.
...
When the group returned to Padre's base, Leo, V, Lucy, and Jackie made their way into Padre's office.
Outside, Jackie had looked confident, unshakable. But now, with just the four of them in the room, he dropped the act and showed his true self.
Because honestly, he had no idea how to fix the mess they were in.
A year ago, the old Jackie would've rallied Padre's men and stormed the Clemente compound, dumping every round of ammo they had and mowing down every Clemente soldier they saw—no matter the consequences. He would've drowned the place in blood.
But now, after everything he'd been through with Leo—especially after Konpeki Plaza—Jackie had changed. He'd grown.
Padre was severely wounded, still in the ICU on life support.
His second-in-command, Nicola, had defected, handing the Clementes a massive intelligence advantage.
If they tried to go head-to-head with 6th Street now, the result could only be one thing—devastation.
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