Vito found himself particularly mad on this bleak winter Monday. What made him even angrier was that the reasons for his anger were easily avoidable. Firstly, he had underestimated the duration of meetings revolving around district operations, so he hadn't eaten beforehand, and now, he was starving. Secondly, when he was finally finished with his relatively new task of listening to annoying yapping and delegating tasks for the district to continue running smoothly, he was interrupted by an unexpected guest.

  Everyone knew you didn't come to the Crimson Tides manor unless you had booked an appointment through the secretary. Vito's secretary. He was still getting used to how that tasted on his tongue.

  He half expected his father to appear, smelling of strong mint leaves, and say, "Getting a bit big for your boots, eh? That's still my secretary, boy." Then he'd pause and recite his favorite words. "I'm still alive and kickin'."

  But that wasn't exactly possible now.

  What made him angrier still was that he couldn't punish the man who postponed his desired snack either. The man in question was a sergeant - a high-ranking officer who supervised the low-ranking officers that maintained law and order (hardly), appointed by the king himself. They were ten sergeants in all, each made to supervise ten specific districts out of a hundred.

  Vito looked up as Sergeant Laiden entered his office with a confident gait. The man had a heavyset build with the beginnings of a beer belly, but his crisp blue and black uniform and focused, hawkish eyes did not feed into the appearance of an idle man.

  Despite his annoyance, Vito planted a smile on his face and gestured at the chair across from his desk; though he thought the man to be a pompous prick, his father and Laiden had gotten along, and Vito knew it was important the same went for them. "To what do I owe the honor, Sergeant?"

  Sergeant Laiden sat in the oak chair noisily and pointedly looked around Vito's office. "Fixed this room up nice, haven't you?" It had been his father's office, and it reeked of oldness before, so he'd had the striped wallpaper ripped off and had the wood accent on the surrounding walls painted black to give it his own touch. Though, the many paintings and portraits of famed philosophers and members of the main family were still the same.

  Vito inclined his head in acknowledgment but did not reply. He wasn't a fan of small talk, especially now.

  Sergeant Laiden seemed to pick up on this and leaned forward, his face grim. "I've come to you about a problem that has been brought to my attention, and it should be known that I don't like travelling this far to this...cursed district."

  "Most don't."

  Sergeant Laiden cocked his head to the side slightly as he tried to decipher the meaning of Vito's change of tone. He chose to ignore it, continuing in his patronizing tone. "You should know what I'm talking about, but I imagine you've so many issues in these slums that I haven't yet caught wind of, so I'll be very clear. There has become a recurring theme in your inns and taverns where tourists turn up dead. Now, if it were the usual murdering of slum rats, then it wouldn't be my concern, but you can see how this can affect us all, yes?"

  Vito could. The King's main source of tax income was from the tourism industry, and all districts were expected to pull their weight. District 35 wasn't among the grandest districts, therefore, they didn't attract the wealthiest individuals. However, the more grimy characters were attracted to the opportunities the district provided, keeping the King content with his monthly earnings from the district.

  "I see that you do understand," Sergeant Laiden commented after studying him for a moment, "so you should understand that the prospect of tourists becoming scared to travel to this district will reflect badly on me." His expression darkened and his tone lowered to a threatening warning, "You don't want me to take action."

  The only indication of Vito's rising internal anger was a twitch of his eyebrow, otherwise his features remained the smooth impassive visage they always were. It was the one microexpression he hadn't been able to contain when his father was teaching him to be a man, which consisted of controlling the emotions displayed on his face.

  "I agree that wouldn't benefit either party," Vito said somberly. He briefly considered how hard it would be to eliminate the sergeant; the King gifted sergeants some of his spark, allowing them to summon mechanical robots that did their bidding. Usually, sergeants walked around with a few parading around them as an intimidation tactic, which, considering they could only summon a certain amount and keep them active for a certain time limit, left them vulnerable in the event of a mass attack.

  Sergeant Laiden was one of the more seasoned sergeants who only used the King's spark when he absolutely needed to.

  "Do you at least know who the culprit is?" The pudgy-faced sergeant asked.

  "Not as yet, but-"

  "But that's not good enough."

  Vito's eyebrow twitched at being interrupted. It was past time to get this idiot out of his office. "We've put measures in place to catch the perpetrator next time he strikes. That's all that can be done for now," he said evenly.

  Sergeant Laiden didn't look satisfied with his statement, judging by his bold frown, but at least he had the decency to accept Vito's words with a nod. "Very well. I hope these measures work...for your sake." He stood to leave, then paused and turned back to face Vito with a calculating expression. "I've given your family my condolences before...but this time, I want to extend my condolences to you as the new head of the family. Your father and I had a very synergistic partnership; I could call on him when I needed something, and in turn, I turned a blind eye to the family's dealings."

  "I'm aware," Vito said simply.

  "I'd like to have a similar partnership with you," the sergeant continued. "We should be able to rely on each other's abilities to play their role for the continued control of this...unique district."

  Vito was well aware that this partnership he spoke of, where he received a tax from the family's dealings, would fatten the man's pockets and was a main reason for his offer, but it didn't sour the man's words for Vito. After all, a partnership had to be beneficial.

  Vito nodded. "I agree. I think the first step in establishing this partnership would be you calling ahead instead of showing up unannounced."

  Sergeant Laiden's brows were pulled downward by the sudden hard squinting of his eyes. It took a few seconds for the man to reign in his angered expression. Still, he chuckled before speaking, "How about you prove yourself capable before making such demands, huh?"

  "I can't argue with that." Vito stood and offered his hand as he'd seen his father do in the past and the sergeant only hesitated for a second before taking the offered hand for a firm handshake.

  After his departure, another man walked into the office. This man had a tall, wiry frame with thick glasses that gave him a permanent curious appearance and a dignified demeanor. He had been the assistant of the boss of the Crimson Tides for double the time Vito had been alive, and it was no different now.

  "Trouble, sir?" The assistant, Hades, asked.

  Vito relaxed his facial muscles and nodded truthfully. If he could trust no one, he knew he could trust the loyal Hades and so he often found himself being completely honest with the man, as his father had been. "The sergeant came knocking about our inn murderer issue. Honestly, I should've expected it, but I was distracted by pointless meetings."

  Hades lowered his head slightly so that he looked at Vito over his glasses as he did when he was lecturing. "No meeting you conducted today was pointless, Vito. Each was important in their own way, especially so soon after your integration."

  "I didn't ask for the lecture, Hades. I'm going on a little trip, care to join me?"

  Hades raised a curious eyebrow. "Does this have anything to do with the recent impromptu meeting?" Vito didn't reply, instead focusing on shrugging into his suit coat. "Perhaps you should inform your siblings before this venture..?" Hades pressed on.

  Vito pointedly made himself busy looking in the mirror on the wall. Some might call it tacky to have a mirror in an office, but his father always made it a priority to ensure he looked presentable. His reflection displayed his sleek black suit coat with matching dress pants and boots, with a black T-shirt peeking out of the unbuttoned coat. His father had scolded him every time he saw the casual wear under their trademark suits, but Vito didn't know how the rest of his family managed dress shirts with the occasional tie in the district's hot climate. Still, at this late hour, the sun was going down and the nights were chilly, so that wasn't a valid excuse.

  Dark brown eyes stared back at him as he tousled his raven black hair before turning back to Hades. "I'll inform them at dinnertime. We'll have to move quickly if we want to make it back in time."

  Hades dipped his head in acknowledgment and held the door open for Vito. The Crimson Tides manor was the single most impressive piece of infrastructure in District 35, towering over the nearby buildings and being visible from a street level miles away. The interior was just as extravagant. Walking out of his office, Vito was met with a small corridor, which hosted his chambers along it, but his objective was the grand staircase that wound down in a graceful curve, leading to the massive foyer that smelled faintly of candlewax, scented perfumes and the outside garden. Various archways stood invitingly on either side, leading to the different wings of the mansion. Portraits of each important family member adorned the peach walls that were enchantingly illuminated by the soft golden glow emitted from the hanging chandelier dripping in diamonds.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  It was ostentatious in relation to the district it was located, but it was necessary, to show business partners from neighboring districts that the Crimson Tide was on even footing with them, despite their district's reputation.

  Vito was thankful to not be noticed as he slipped through the large double doors pushed open by Hades. They only had to wait half a minute for one of the guards to bring their ride around from the parking area to the entrance. The ride was a Porsche, a car which only Vito owned in the whole district by design; it was an unwritten law that any others would be confiscated. This displayed power, but it also made him an easily recognizable target for anyone who wished him harm, however, the boss of the district was not supposed to shy away from conflict.

  Vito nodded his thanks to the guard as he held open the passenger door for him while Hades went over to the driver's side. Upon hearing Vito's instruction of their destination, Hades frowned but didn't object, instead obediently driving them out of the sprawling gates that opened automatically as they neared.

  It could be a bit unnerving for someone who wasn't accustomed to exit such grand premises and immediately be subject to a complete shift of atmosphere. The city of District 45 had a unique stench of age and neglect with its damp mustiness that hung on the moist air and burned unfamiliar nostrils. There was always the presence of smoke in the air from some factory, fire, broken down cars or whatever degraded machinery decided to join in on the air pollution. The mustiness mixed with the sour tang of the ever insistent presence of rust created a peculiar scent that took getting used to.

  Air pollution wasn't the only pollution that got under the skin of newcomers. Noise pollution was also at an all time high. There was an excess amount of factories, which made for a symphony of clankings, grinding, and hissing that constantly reached citizens' ears. Residents had grown up in these conditions and so they were accustomed to talking over the undertone of machinery, thus the volume of conversations was unnaturally high.

  As Hades maneuvered through scarce traffic, Vito took in a scene where three city guards were attempting to beat a short man with their batons, and he ferociously fought back like a wild animal. The walking pedestrians paid the scene no heed, giving the fighters a wide berth, as if it was a normal occurrence - which it was. Rather, some were more transfixed by spotting the famed golden Porsche zooming down the street.

  They were looks of envy, fear and grudging respect, sometimes all at once. To govern such an unruly population, you had to have a reputation of the baddest around, and the Crimson Tides had no problem living up to that title.

  The atmosphere was not the only reason District 35 attracted the less moral individuals. What Sergeant Laiden called a cursed city boasted the best brothels, gambling dens, drug market and casinos among the entire row. (A row is the ten neighboring districts of which one sergeant is responsible for) As such, District 35 was where people came to conduct secret business that they wouldn't want their family catching wind of.

  However, District 35 was most famous for their unparalleled arms dealing operations which Vito's family had spearheaded for decades, even before they officially founded the gang - the Crimson Tides. Enchanted weapons helped humans to stand on a more even footing with the supernatural entities that roamed the districts and Vito's ancestors had smartly made it their business to learn enchanting techniques and hunt legendary weapons and their replicas. It was a ridiculously profitable business that put them among the richest families in the row.

  The roads were shoddily paved but it became an increasingly bumpier ride that forced Hades to lay off the gas as they moved out of the residential area and into a more rural area. They soon reached the border which marked the end of District 35's territory. Ordinarily, a person would have to stop to document their arrival and exit, but the city guard stationed at the border recognized the vehicle from far and let them through without a word.

  They drove through the dangerous rogue lands, the space in between districts until their target came into sight. A paved driveway started at the bottom of a hill and trailed upward out of sight. Until then, trees had blocked the sky but the area around the driveway was obviously groomed.

  Hades once again slowed down as the Porsche climbed the hill and upon breaching, the peak, revealed a bleak castle that looked out of place so far from the general population. Two figures pushed open the gates as the Porsche advanced at a respectful crawl. The castle was erected so that residents would be well aware of visitors climbing up the hill from their perch, so it was no surprise they had noticed the duo's approach.

  The guards who had opened the gate didn't bother with greetings, just watched eerily as the Porsche passed them. Even far out here, the brand of the car announced the identity of the occupants.

  There was no area for car parking, the lord of the castle was so old-fashioned he probably still travelled via horse-drawn carriage if he ever ventured out, so Hades parked at the side of the path as best as he could without being on their freshly groomed lawn. Along the path, figures were stationed facing each other at either side as if they were soldiers providing an escort. Even from his seat in the car, Vito could make out a tuft of fur peeking out from under their shirt collars.

  "Werewolves," Hades growled. It was well known he had a bad history with the race - something about a woman who had set him up long ago. "Should I stay in the car and make sure they don't take it for a joy ride?"

  "You and I both know that isn't necessary, Hades. Wipe that murderous look off of your face and let's get this over with. I'm starving."

  Vito exited the vehicle and waited until Hades joined his side before walking down the path lined with werewolves. He didn't think that the werewolves would pose a problem, but Vito was still glad that he'd have the hindsight to bring a gun loaded with blessed bullets in case he needed to eliminate them. They stared ahead as Vito and Hades walked past, not so much as a single head tilt to follow the pair.

  At the doors of the castle, a man patiently waited. As they neared, Vito was ale to make out pale skin weathered with age, much like his drooping eyes and hunched back. Yet, there was a certain sharpness in the eyes that regarded him with no telltale emotions.

  "Should I put on some tea?" Zliksay asked with a ready smile.

  "I've come here to have a chat, not drink tea," Vito replied with the unintended irritation of hunger.

  "I see you did not inherit your father's manners," Zliksay said, though his tone remained good-natured. "A pity, that."

  "I inherited his intelligence instead," Vito said pointedly, keenly watching the man's reaction.

  "So I've heard." Zliksay turned to the side and gestured for them to go in, "Let's have this chat you're so eager to have then."

  It wasn't a surprise that Vito and Hades weren't searched at the door; the district boss was expected to be armed no matter the location, since his position constantly put his safety in jeopardy.

  Zliksay led them to a living room area that wasn't as grand as the Crimson Tides manor, but was lavish and homely enough to be the envy of almost all District 35 residents. Zliksay stiffly sat in a lounge chair while motioning at a long sofa chair across from the table for his guests to sit at.

  "Don't tell me you've come to talk about expanding District 35's territory?" Zliksay asked with a twinkle in his eyes. His premises were located between District 35 and District 36, but it was closer to District 35, considering it was where he visited. However, he had decided not to reside there with his gang because of a tax dispute.

  Vito shook his head. "I'm not some arrogant hatchling trying to prove his new position...rather I'm trying to defend it." During his meeting with Sergeant Laiden, Vito had been scrolling through his brain for the persons who stood to benefit most from Vito being deemed unable to keep the district in check. The person had to be cunning to avoid using direct lethal force and instead using tourist sacrifices to eat at both the economy and the upper echelon's trust in the new management. "Have you heard anything about the inn murders?"

  Zliksay adopted an innocent look of curiosity which prompted Vito to add, "Don't bother to act like you don't know what's happening in the district because of your location. My father discovered your spies a long time ago."

  Almost immediately, Zliksay's innocent expression dissipated and his smile somehow morphed into something more balanced and less friendly. "I've heard rumors of some tourists leaving this world, yes. I also get the feeling that you haven't driven all of this way at this time to ask for my opinion on a solution."

  "How perceptive of you."

  Vito had ultimately decided that Zliksay would be put in the best position by the fall of the Crimson Tides. He had the wisdom, respect, and supernatural resources to take over and govern the city, quieting any gangs who found issue in his sudden promotion. Vito's father had always been wary of the man located just outside of the district, but he had remained satisfied ruling his territory in the rogue lands. Perhaps his ambitions had been revitalized with an untested boss taking the mantle.

  That was Vito's thought process anyway.

  The two leaders of different generations sat in silence for a few tense moments, sizing up the other with locked eyes that demanded not a moment of weakness from either party. Eventually, Zliksay chuckled. "I find it touching that you think little old me would be able to cause such harm on short notice, but for what it's worth, I have no desire to step on your toes."

  "Words don't tend to have a lot of worth," Vito replied.

  He was especially skeptical of people who were able to turn on and off their friendliness like a switch. It meant they were good actors, which made them great traitors.

  Zliksay frowned. "Perhaps they don't inside the borders of your district, boy, but here, words are made to hold weight." He rubbed a delicate wrinkled hand through greying short hair then continued, "But I understand you are a man of action, so I'll tell you this. I'm not interested in your seat, but there may be others outside of your district that are circling you like vultures."

  "Such as?"

  "I don't make a habit of giving names."

  "But you do make a habit of giving only parcels of information?" Vito asked, a slither of anger worming its way into his voice.

  "There is no sin in leading a friend in the right direction and expecting him to find the rest of his way on his own. You know, your father and I were unable to salvage our relationship because he was always so convinced I was ready to bury him under a bridge and take his place. I wish that our dealings could go differently."

  Vito stood. "I promised that our chat would be brief and I intend to keep that promise." He extended his hand and Zliksay stood gingerly and took it. "Thank you for the information...as for our relationship, I'll need evidence that you are as cooperative as you claim."

  The friendliness had returned tenfold in the smile plastered on Zliksay's face. "I'm here to lend a helping hand when you need it."

  "I'll keep that in mind," Vito said as he shook the man's hand.

  Night had fully won over the sky as the Porsche made its way down the hill. "Do you trust Zliksay's words?" Hades asked. He had always referred to Vito's father as sir, but he seemed to be having trouble remembering to say it, considering he had been a big part of raising Vito from a child. Vito didn't particularly mind it.

  "Trust is an expensive commodity which I'm not keen to part with often," Vito said, quoting his father. "Certainly not for an outlander."

  "One thing is certain; your siblings will not be happy you went on this venture without them."

  Vito thought about the upcoming dinner with his siblings and his stomach growled as a result.

  "You're right, but I'm more worried about obeying my stomach before it quits its job."