Chapter 82: Chapter 82 : Wild Dogs’ Decision

The next day…

*Bam*

A hammer fist crashed down on Ralf’s head.

“I thought you were a genius, but you’re just as foolish as the rest of us.”

Ralf wore a bitter expression as he endured these words, they were undeniable after all.

Greg approved of the other’s silence and continued. His fist bloomed into a palm which he then used to rub the young man’s head with. “You’re more capable than others, no doubt, but no one’s so capable that they can’t use a helping hand. Some things can’t be done alone. It’s okay to rely on others, you know. Next time there’s a problem, look around. There are plenty of people who are willing to help you…and I’m one of them. Through thick and thin, we’re pals right.”

Ralf’s expression shifted to a smile. “Yeah, we’re pals. I won’t forget that.”

“Good.” Patting twice more, Greg returned to his couch, picking up a biscuit along the way.

Biting into it, he focused on Ralf, who had similarly reached for a biscuit. Chewing quickly, he swallowed before speaking. “On my way here, I heard something interesting.”

“Interesting,” Ralf repeated before tossing the biscuit into his maw.

“Well, maybe interesting is the wrong word to describe it.” Greg corrected as he thought it over.

“Lay it on me.”

Greg nodded. “With all the hubbub created, the Town’s Guard got off their lazy asses and looked into the incident.”

“Oh, am I going to get arrested?”

Greg shook his head. “No, they don’t have the power nor the daring, but even if they had both, they wouldn’t. If they visit, it’ll be to reward, not to punish.”

“Reward, why?” Ralf asked confusedly.

“You see while investigating, one Town’s Guard’s…guard realised that one person looked familiar to him. When he realised that he had seen it on a wanted list, everything quickly fell into place. The people known as Boss Desmond, Stuart, Charlie and several others were identified as infamous criminals whose names could be found in the Pillar faction’s Black Book.”

“Black Book…them?”Ralf’s brows rose high at the claim. The Black Book was a list of the Pillar Factions’ serious enemies, made of extremely powerful individuals and factions, things like the Monsters, the Naturalists and the Sins. Ralf couldn’t understand how people as weak as Boss Desmond and his flock could enter those pages. However, hearing Greg’s next words, everything made sense.

“They’re indeed a bunch of weaklings…in the grand scheme of things, but they’ve committed a most heinous act. Back in Kebria where they came from, they attempted running a human trafficking operation.”

Ralf’s eyes narrowed at the revelation. ‘They’re even worse trash than I thought.’ Thinking this, he refocused on Greg’s words.

“...it was quickly shut down but Boss Desmond or rather Tucker Raymond and a few others managed to slip out of the Pillar Factions’ net. But where their net failed, your net succeeded. You really did well killing those inhumane bastards, Ralf. I can never understand how people like that can prey on others and sleep at night.”

Ralf nodded. “Me neither, and I don’t want to. There’s only one remedy for their kind and that’s death.”

“Indeed,” Greg rubbed his beard with a look of agreement. “So boy, what’s your plan moving forward?”

Ralf swallowed then got to his feet. “I told you, there are still others I have to visit.”

“You mean…”

“Yeah, I’m going to do a little tidying up around here.”

“Oh.” An awed looked overcame Greg as he understood the youth’s intention.

“But before then,” Ralf patted himself while saying, “I’ll need to fill these empty slots and arrange a few things,” he stopped and turned to the bearded middle-aged man and smiled cheekily, “Greg, I’ll need a hand, I’m counting on you.”

A smile formed in the forest that was Greg’s beard. “Haha, of course of course.”

A short discussion of the details followed before Ralf made his exit, with Greg’s well-wishing words for Hana ringing out at his rear.

***

While Ralf was doing the daily exercises, Rei was in the Mental Space, helmet on his head, reliving a most unpleasant memory: the slaughter at the tavern. Experiencing it again, Rei met with the same emotions that filled him when wearing Silver’s shoes.

The slaughter potion of the video accounted for just over eight seconds, however, with Silver’s slowed perception, it was no different than minutes upon minutes passing by. As the video played, his mood continued to sour. Coming to the end, Rei removed the helmet and released a long and bitter sigh.

The images of the gangsters’ helpless and scared faces moments before they died gnawed on the duo’s mind. While their minds and values were twisted in ways far removed from normal people’s, they weren’t psychopaths. They didn’t enjoy killing. Thus, the slaughter didn’t sit well with them.

It wasn’t a concern about numbers though. The duo could slaughter a trillion Morris’s and not bat an eye at the result. It was about quality. They were certain that most of those killed deserved to die using their criteria, but they couldn’t be sure that all did, and this led to their current troubled feelings.

Affiliation to a gang was bad but didn’t automatically put one in the irredeemable category in the duo’s minds. The prime example that came to mind was Drake’s group. When running through their interactions with the group, the duo understood that the trio, while bad apples hadn’t had their cores rotted yet.

Some harsh guidance could set them back on the right path. Luckily for the duo’s consciousness, the trio hadn’t been present. But in their absence, the duo was left to question whether those they killed fell in a similar boat. From there, more questions came flying in, each bringing them headaches.

Were there youths ignorant of the Red Star being a gang, and their awful affairs? It was possible, some might have just joined because a friend had invited them. Maybe, they just wanted to be part of a group? It was possible….It was possible….It was possible…

The more they thought, the worse they felt about the incident. The actions they took yesterday went in a direction their moral compass couldn’t point to.

And yet, if they had to rerun the situation knowing what they knew now, the duo - Silver would repeat their actions to the letter. Because at the end of the day, it was the result that mattered most to them. They would prefer an end without negative consequences but reality was rarely so generous. They accepted this fact and didn’t allow themselves to get bogged down in a rut.

‘We did what we had to do - no what we could do. The more powerful, the more options one has. As those with very little, we’re far too limited. We need to grow stronger, strong enough to settle things in ways that don’t hurt our consciousness in the aftermath.’

Rei dismissed the helmet and stood up. Turning to his private dome, he began striding toward it. Thoughts raced through his head at impossible speeds, all focusing on acquiring greater power.

‘Speaking of that, with how unstable we were, I’m surprised we didn’t level up during it or even now. I suppose that’s not our condition…though I can’t say I’d be glad if it was. If the only way to grow stronger was putting mom in danger, I’d rather - we’d rather die as weaklings, never knowing the ceiling,’ Rei thought, completely serious.

Entering his private dome shortly after, Rei toiled away, using the entirety of his genius to extend Silver’s limits even further.

***

Ganurg, Northern District.

In a three-story building bearing the Wild Dogs’ Adventurer Guild logo on the entrance, a regularly scheduled meeting was taking place. Four senior gang members gathered in front of the Wild Dogs’ Head, Jenkin Phillip.

Finance, member numbers, expansions; the usual topics were brought up and discussed. During this, Jenkin remained silent, his dark sunken gaze swept over his subordinates, something usual for him to do. On the other end, the four were beset with a feeling of pins and needles. Even having spent years in his presence, they couldn’t rid the discomfort they felt whenever he was around; in fact, the more time they spent together, the worse this feeling got.

The danger he radiated was akin to a volcano on the verge of erupting. One small tic could set him off. They had seen it first-hand. In a matter of seconds, he’d transform from the silent stoic he was currently into the ‘Wild Dog’ their gang was named after.

After running through the usual matters, the hottest topic was finally brought to the fore.

“Ralf Fawkes.”

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At the mention of the name, the atmosphere in the room immediately shifted.

Lennon assessed his fellow gangsters’ responses before turning to Jenkin. “Boss, what are we to do about him?”

With a voice that chilled the hearts of the four, Jenkin returned the question, asking, “What do you all think is the best move?”

Ball passed back into their court, the four collectively cringed up. From just his gaze, they could tell that an incorrect answer wouldn’t be tolerated.

“Isn’t it obvious,” Vorul started, “we nab him for everything he’s worth, kill him and leave his corpse for the monsters to devour.”

Jenkin’s eyes flickered with satisfaction. Noticing this, Vorul was emboldened and continued. “That was our plan from the start, we should stick to it. He’s a walking money pouch, and even more so now. I heard the bounties on the core Red Star members come to something like a hundred gold.”

“Really!” Denva, a middle-aged man said with a jolt.

Vorul nodded. “That’s what I heard, crazy right. We’ll go through with our init-”

“Wait a minute, let’s not rush into anything rash,” Lennon suddenly interjected, his voice jumping out of his throat at the notions discussed.

“Lenno-”

“Lennon.”

Vorul was once again cut off, but this time it was Jenkin who interrupted.

The Wild Dogs Head’s voice momentarily petrified all those present. Shifting to Lennon, his eyes narrowed. “Lennon…has those rumours rattled you? Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”

Sensing the warning in the other’s voice, Lennon immediately denied the claim.

“Of course not. However, one can never be too cautious. I advise we take a wait-and-see approach. There are still a lot of details to uncover about him and those rumours. The Red Star Massacre is a fact set in stone. Whether he killed them single-handedly or with help are up in the air, still, both possibilities spell trouble. I believe we should tread carefully until all the facts are gathered.”

The aged gangster ran through his words like lightning, making sure each one struck the consciousness of his fellow gangsters clearly. However, where a few faces began showing agreement, two notably didn’t.

“Facts huh,” Numen muttered as he looked towards his bag. “Lennon, I would agree normally, but we’re beyond that point, the dye has already been cast.”

“Already been cast,” Lennon’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

Numen retrieved two guns from his bag, one gold in colour and another, red. “This,” he said as he floated them before everyone’s eyes, “this is what I mean. They used to belong to Morris, and then Ralf, and now they belong to us.”

“You mean…”

“Yes, these were taken off Ralf’s person. And not just this, several guns, two knives, potions and a few gold coins. Dryon and his squad ran into Ralf in the forest yesterday, not even thirty minutes before Ralf was seen flying towards Lagner. At the time, Ralf was with two others. Dryon’s squad robbed them of all their items without any resistance.”

Faces shifted at the revelation.

Numen floated the guns to his hands and blew at the ends. “The first shots have already been fired. There’s no turning back. I’m guessing he didn’t resist because of the two who acted as burdens. Without anyone to protect, I doubt he’ll be as compliant. Hell, he might have been on his way to eliminate us yesterday, only to get sidetracked, who knows.”

The possibility brought frowns to his fellow advisors, however, Jenkin remained unfazed.

Numen, after a twirl in his hands, returned the guns to his bag. “The Wild Dogs can only go on the offensive now, there’s no other path we can take. I visited the Red Star tavern before the Adventurer Association could clean it up, and let me tell you, it was gruesome stuff. Everyone present at the time was slaughtered mercilessly, no exceptions. I’m sure that kid has similar plans for us. Thus, we have to strike first and hard. Boss, what do you think?”

Jenkin’s shut his eyes. Staying silent for a few seconds, he gave his answer. “I agree, he must be taken out. And we’ll be the ones to do it. The Wild Dogs will snuff out this trifling flame. Inform everyone, we’ll move as soon as everyone’s ready.”

“Yes Boss.”

Where the other advisors fell in line with the decision, Lennon couldn’t. The prospect of facing the youth from the rumours was one he didn’t look forward to.

“Boss Jenkin, a word.”

Jenkin’s eyes twitched at the other’s divergence. “What is it, my decision is final.”

“I know. It’s just that if we’re going to go through with it, I want to make sure it’s a success.”

“Oh, what do you have in mind,” Jenkin asked, his voice lighter.

“I told you about it before, but I’ve got a contact in Popleigh who can sell us a few grendo weapons.”

Eyes lit up at the news.

“Really,” Numen bubbled with excitement as he asked.

“Yeah,” replying, Lennon refocused on Jenkin. “We’ll have to wait a few days but armed with them, Ralf and any helpers he has will stand no chance.”

“Hmm, I see.” Jenkin’s intertwined fingers tightened around each other. “Very well, acquire the weapons. If it’s not here in three days, we’ll proceed regardless. Even a small flame can lead to a blaze if given enough time, we must move with haste.”

“Yes Boss,” Lennon said with a nod.

“Good, now everyone, scatter. There’s much to be done.”

At the words, the four advisors took their cue and left to do their respective tasks.

In the office alone, Jenkin’s blank face broke apart and contorted into a crazed expression. This was his true face, wild and beast-like. ‘Ralf Fawkes, I can’t wait to tear you apart.’

Revved up at the prospect of crushing the youth, his mind and body ran wild with excitement.

Sinister laughter soon left his lips.

Sigh!

Outside the office, a sensitive-eared Lennon caught this sound and shook his head.

‘I knew it. Other reasons be damned, he just wants to let loose after so long being stuck in that chair, and sink his fangs into some tough prey.’

Shaking his head again, Lennon ignored the laughter reaching his ears and focused on what he could do.

The Wild Dogs had made their decision, and a clash between them and the Silver Path was soon at hand.

That night, a storm brewed.

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