Max pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, his eyes closed. He thought about what he had just heard over the last half hour while quietly listening to Chad. Of course, that had been after a short car ride from the parking lot they’d met in, to this much larger, nicer building.

  Finally, Max opened his eyes again but didn't focus on his friend. Instead, he let his gaze wander while he continued thinking, organizing his thoughts, all while seated in an overstuffed leather recliner.

  Several other expensive recliners were arrayed in the magnificent room, all around a huge table. An unlit fireplace clad in marble graced one wall, while the opposite wall boasted a full bar, large enough for one or two people to work behind. A total of eight recliners were currently placed the room, but Max could tell there was space to easily handle twice this number. The room was about the size of a hotel lobby. Signs of wealth were everywhere.

  Getting here had been interesting. Chad had almost seemed to be in a panic.

  After they’d first met, with a thunderous expression, he’d grabbed Max by the arm and practically dragged him to a car. He’d put a finger over his lips with pleading in his eyes while nobody was watching, and Max had kept his silence throughout the entire car ride. He’d also played along once the car stopped when Chad hurried him up to this floor, along with his confused security detail and the people who had been accompanying him before. However, past a certain point, all of his entourage had stopped, except for the security detail. Now, the two of them were seated across from each other at the table in what had to be a high level meeting room, and Max was feeling a little sick to his stomach. Everything he'd assumed had happened within Trifecta had been either slightly off the mark, or the reality was worse.

  He directly studied Chad, and his big friend's heart looked like it was breaking within his eyes. Max had learned a number of things in a very short amount of time, and one of them was how much this guild meant to most of his friends, especially to Chad. Within the Trifecta Guild, all of his students were called the Originators, and the Originators were part of a slightly larger group called the Inner Circle.

  Max very deliberately laid his hands on his lap before he decided not to spend so much energy appearing calm. Instead, he rested his elbows on the table in front of him and steepled his fingers.

  “Chad," he said evenly.

  "Yes?" The last few years had not been good for the man. Although he had the body of an olympic athlete, deep lines crossed his face.

  "I am going to repeat back what I understand this situation to be, and I want you to tell me whether I have everything right or not."

  Chad nodded once. "Got it."

  Max sighed. "So, what you told me that would be public information, or public misinformation, matches up with everything I read online. This official story is that Trifecta used to be one of the most powerful American guilds. It has fallen on hard times, but it is mostly dying now. This is largely true, but is not the full story.

  “Trifecta was truly one of the most powerful guilds about two years ago. And one of the reasons for that is because Trifecta is one of the only guilds in the world that has ever been able to consistently confer a new Path for a high percentage of Challengers. Challengers who could learn and utilize Western Wind style had a solid chance of developing a new Path. And this fact was not exactly common knowledge, but a lot of Challengers were still able to figure it out when some of the other members developed abilities similar to the Originators. Everyone who has ever learned Western Wind Style at this guild has signed binding contracts to ensure loyalty and secrecy. If they betrayed us, or if they left us within twenty years, they agreed to forfeit their lives. Am I right so far?"

  "Yes," said Chad.

  "Okay. Everything was good at first. But then, as the guild grew more powerful, and more powerful Returners began coming back to Earth, Trifecta started actively recruiting some of the more powerful Challengers in the world. Because," Max paused, "none of the Originators have ever actually made it to S rank."

  "That's right," said Chad softly.

  "All A rank or lower!? What the fuck have you all been doing all this time?" almost slipped out of Max's mouth. He held his tongue, though. Verbally attacking his friend was not going to make the situation better. Not everyone had what it took to even make A rank, lease of all S-rank. Not only that, he had to be honest with himself that the only reason most of his friends had become Challengers in the first place, much less gotten as strong as they were now, was because he'd started them on their Path so early.

  They’d been passively absorbing mana all this time.

  All they’d really gained from Max was basic Western Wind style. On Albion, there were several levels of Western Wind Style. At its basic level, it was a martial art that was passed down to guards and trusted vassals of Max's old family. There was a limit of how far a warrior could take basic Western Wind Style by itself unless they were extremely talented or they were instructed further by someone like Max. And Max hadn't been there.

  A slow, poisonous feeling of guilt began making its way up from his stomach, but he battered it down with logic as cold as deep space. There was nothing he could have done about the situation. And that, more than anything, was probably what was pissing him off most.

  Max breathed deeply and said, "The Guild recruited a few powerful Challengers, and the ones that were able to learn Western Wind Style and pick up a new Path signed contracts and stayed long term. But after more than a year, they realized there was a limit to how far the Path could take them, and rumors got around, so it became harder to entice top talent. But on top of that, after more time passed, there were other people in the world who offered to teach methods to help someone find another Path."

  Chad interrupted for the first time. "Yeah, but they were all mostly bullshit. Even the ones that work are super rare, and some of them even hurt people who tried."

  Max shook his head. "I don't need to go over the minutiae. I'm just trying to understand the overall situation."

  "Got it."

  "Okay, so Trifecta was the most consistent way, the most sure way for a challenger to pick up another Path. What's more, it's one of the only paths that anybody is claiming they can teach in the world with any degree of success that confers physical abilities in a passive way. And it also synergizes with other Paths that use mana."

  "Correct," said Chad.

  Max continued. "So, to make a long story short, the rest of the world currently doesn't widely know that the remaining Trifecta leadership is not S-Rank. And if everybody knew, the guild’s reputation would immediately completely fall the rest of the way. And all of the most powerful members of the guild already left to follow these two asshole brothers, Toby and Sam Lynch, who planned this whole coup. And on top of that, the handful of powerful guild members who were outside of the Originators, in the Inner Circle that was left, were threatened or pressured by these asshole brothers to take an indefinite break from adventuring. This was all planned so the Trifecta guild would be so weak that we, and by we I mean you all, could not tell the world what was really going on even as Sam and Toby’s new guild basically extorted Trifecta and stole resources. They have been draining this guild dry after taking advantage, all while also eating up the remaining contracts that you have been holding onto by not telling the world the full truth."

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "That's about the gist of it, yes," said Chad. His face was ashen.

  "Oh, but there's more," Max's voice dripped with venom, but it was not directed at Chad. "All of these assholes that left the guild and are currently attacking it made oaths and signed contracts like the ones I recommended before I left Earth. So not only did they break their oaths by leaving the guild, they also broke their oaths no to betray it, and even worse, by training their new guild members, at least some of them, in the Western Wind style. Is that correct?"

  Chad looked up now with worry and something else in his eyes, something haunted. "That's basically correct, too," he admitted.

  "And lastly," said Max, irritation at the entire situation making him tap a finger on the table, "the situation is so bad right now that there are actually spies in the guild which we are currently hoping have not seen me or realized who I really am since my last name is not exactly uncommon. And on top of that, you don't think I should make contact with the rest of the Originators, because they might absolutely lose their shit and do something stupid to let our enemies know I’m back, or get upset with me when I don't immediately set everything right. Is that correct?"

  "Yes."

  "Okay, Chad. I'm going to believe everything you told me. I'm going to just roll with it without questioning because you've been here and I haven't. Not only that, I just don’t have time to dick around doing due diligence if even half of this stuff is correct. It is extremely irritating that I just got here and I can't say hello to my other friends, but I understand that all of you have been through a lot. And after reviewing the videos I’ve seen of S-Rank challengers in this world, it would be stupid for me to fight them right now, at least right away.” Max believed that he could probably take any one of them one-on-one, but only if he used all of his abilities. And conveniently fighting his enemies one-on-one was a pretty silly thing to gamble his life on.

  Chad coughed and said, "Actually, it's been slow because we've had to use slow and discrete channels, but we've been doing our best to sue Toby and Sam."

  Max glared. His voice was savage as he demanded, "Sue!? The goddamn world is being attacked by monsters. Cops can't do shit anymore. The average cop couldn't arrest a D-rank challenger, much less keep them incarcerated, much less S-ranks, and that's if they didn't have any friends!"

  "Well, I've reached out to some vigilantes too," said Chad. He looked like he was about to cry as he admitted all of the dirt from the last few years. "I even met with some privately to see if they would kill the brothers at least.”

  “So assassins?”

  “Some of the vigilantes will do that sort of thing if you can convince them the Challenger you want dead is bad. Anyway, none would take the job. They wouldn't tell me all the reasons why, but it was probably a combination of the fact that my enemies are too powerful, and also that from an outsider's perspective, all they'd done was violate a work contract. After all, there are some Challengers in this world who are mass murdering people or keeping armies of slaves, or other sick stuff. Things that are obviously evil, things that if vigilantes stop, they get much better press coverage and rewards. After all, they need to make a living too." He grinned sardonically.

  Max gave him a flat look. "Well, that just means we, and by we I mean me, need to kill these motherfuckers."

  "But wouldn't that be murder?" said Chad hesitantly.

  "Maybe," said Max, "but you literally just told me that you looked into assassinating these pieces of shit. How is that any different? If somebody else's hand is doing it, it doesn't mean you are clean."

  "What about the law? Or PR?"

  "Fuck the law," said Max. "Some things the law still has sway over, but when it comes to whether we teach Western Wind style and people signing contracts dedicating their life to it, that's another matter entirely. This is the world at stake. It’s bigger than what some person in a suit decides how the rest of the world should act.

  “As for PR and the rest, I'll take care of that. Even though I've been gone for a long time, I'm sure that some people still remember that first broadcast for our guild. I'm hoping not too many people remember because otherwise somebody might have recognized me in the lobby."

  Max suddenly paused and looked around the office. "This place is pretty nice. Why is it when I first met you, you were outside a place that was at least several levels lower?"

  "Isn't that obvious?" asked Chad. "We're almost out of money, Max. In fact, we're up to our eyeballs in debt. If we don't keep paying the Sam and Toby hush money, they'll go public with all of our secrets, but we're also getting fewer and fewer contracts because we can't take the jobs that actually require a large enough, powerful enough force. If you hadn't shown up now, we probably would have been moving out of this building and heading to the one you saw me at within two months. We’ve been preparing. Had to hold on. After all, I couldn't let the guild die because we knew that you were coming back eventually–or at least we wanted to believe it. But there was no way that in a year's time we would still own this building."

  Max grew quiet for a while as the threads of guilt moved up from his stomach again. This time, instead of batting them down, he transformed them into icy rage. "Well, lucky for all of us, I have a plan," said Max.

  "A plan?" asked Chad.

  "Yes. What about the portals. I’ve heard that the guilds around here are here because of teleporters.”

  Chad’s eyes fell. “Movement abilities cost too much or require favors. Or prestige. We don’t have enough money or clout anymore.”

  “Then do you have a jet?"

  “A jet?”

  “Yes. A private jet. An airplane.”

  "I used to. We had to sell it. But I can get a charter."

  "Do that. We're going to Canada."

  "Canada? “Why Canada? And do you mean right now?"

  "As soon as possible," said Max. "Within the hour, if possible. I'm going to go see an old friend who owes me a lot more than you could even imagine."

  Chad looked at him in confusion, and Max facepalmed. "Look, Chad, I don't want to yell at you. I know you've been through a lot, but time is ticking. There are other things going on in the world that you don't know about right now. So I need you to execute on this. Fast. Again, I know you're tired. I know you're stressed. But I can promise you that if things work out anywhere near how I think they will, everything will be okay soon. But you're going to need to trust me on this–on everything."

  "So we're visiting another guild?" asked Chad.

  "That's right. Actually, quick question: if you were to make any sweeping changes to the guild, money-wise or structure-wwise, would you need your brother or anybody else to also sign off on it?"

  Chad shook his head. "No. A few years back, the Originators all voted to just give me executive power so they wouldn't have to keep bothering with it. I honestly think it's one of the only reasons some of them are still hanging in there after everything that's happened. They don't need to constantly be dealing with the day-to-day. Otherwise they’d be too depressed."

  Max got up from his chair, walked around the table, and put his hand on Chad's back. "I'm really glad you hung in here all this time, buddy," he said. "Thank you for maintaining the guild. Now it's my turn to fix everything. But to do that, I don't have the contacts or the necessary type of power right now, so I'm going to need you to get out of that comfortable recliner and move your ass."

  Chad suddenly sprang out of his chair. He glared at Max, but there was also a bit of relief and hope in his eyes now. Different expressions crossed his face all within the span of a second, but eventually, he stood straight and with some fire in his voice said, "I'm on it. We'll have a plane within an hour."

  "Good," said Max. "Come get me or send one of your people here when we're ready."

  With that, he leaned back in his recliner, looked at the ceiling, and started thinking about everything he still had on his plate. It was frustrating as hell that he still needed to figure out how he was going to get Momo to Earth when he kept getting interrupted by everything else after coming back.