The sudden appearance of the young man with shock-red hair acted like a circuit breaker, instantly severing the tension that had gripped the training hall. The shouting and the clattering of wooden swords died away, replaced by a heavy, skeptical silence from the women of the Fallen Rose.
Doubts began to ripple through their ranks like a dark tide. From the moment they had entered the Fortis Group building, they had been begrudgingly impressed. It was rare for any organization, even those established at the Syndicate level, to maintain such a massive, polished presence in the dead center of the city. To rise so quickly and mand such a fortress, the Fallen Rose had imagined a leader who was a scarred veteran of a hundred street wars, a man whose very face told a story of brutal experience.
What they were seeing now didn’t match the math.
"That can’t be right," Shooting whispered, her eyes narrowing as she appraised the slim youth. "Is he really the one in charge? He looks like he should be in a classroom, not running a Syndicate."
"I don’t think all these men are playing a prank on us just to look foolish," Sarah noted, her voice low and wary. "It really does seem to be the case. But it makes me wonder... Vera, how the heck did you know he was the Boss the second he walked in?"
Abby’s heart skipped a beat, and she immediately shifted into a defensive posture. Drawing on the fragmented memories of her previous life and the few dots she had connected during her last clandestine visit, she realized she had let her emotions slip. Seeing Max alive and standing before her had caused the name to burst from her lips before she could filter it.
"Well, since we were planning a visit to their territory, I did my due diligence and dug up a description of the Billion Bloodline’s leader," Abby lied, her voice regaining its steady, mander-like cadence. "I wasn’t about to walk into a lion’s den without knowing what the lion looked like. This is the person we’re here to meet, after all."
Shooting and Sarah stared at Vera with such intensity that Abby worried she had tripped over her own story. Then, simultaneously, both women slammed their fists into their open palms, their expressions shifting from suspicion to a sudden, jarring realization.
"You’ve never actually done research before!" Sarah shouted, a wide grin spreading across her face. "Is our Vera finally being a real leader?"
"Yeah! Look at her, actually doing administrative stuff instead of just breaking heads and getting drunk," Shooting added, her voice filled with a strange, sisterly pride.
Abby felt a wave of relief wash over her. She had navigated another awkward moment, but a part of her felt a twinge of guilt for the "real" Vera. It was almost tragic that her subordinates viewed basic petency as a monumental achievement.
"It’s a pleasure to meet you all," Max said, his voice cutting through their internal banter. "I apologize for being tardy. Your visit was entirely unexpected, and I’ve been occupied with a few... pressing issues of my own today."
Abby studied Max’s face. Up close, she could see the faint shadows beneath his eyes and the slight weariness in his posture. He looked like a man who had been pushed to his limits, yet he remained standing with an unshakable core of strength. She found herself wondering what he had truly gone through since she had "died."
A wild, reckless thought crossed her mind: what would happen if she told him the truth? If she told him that the soul inside this warrior-woman was actually Abby? He would probably think she was insane, a victim of the very trauma that plagued the city. Now wasn’t the time. She was simply relieved to see him whole. Like the family she had visited in secret without uttering a word, this was a burden she would have to carry alone for now.
"So, may I ask what this meeting is regarding?" Max asked, his eyes settling on Abby.
Abby felt a jolt of nerves. She had dragged the Fallen Rose here under the guise of discussing a potential alliance or a strategic partnership. In reality, she was just trying to sabotage the contract they had taken to eliminate the Billion Bloodline. She had to invent a benefit for the Fallen Rose that didn’t make it look like they were suddenly playing favorites for no reason.
"We are the Fallen Rose," Abby said, her voice projecting a strength she hoped would mask her inner turmoil. "We are a Syndicate-level group with no permanent home, and that’s by design. We don’t care for territory or taxes. We specialize in one thing, and one thing only: fighting."
At her signal, the thirty women behind her hoisted their wooden swords into the air, let out a unified, window-rattling cheer. "FALLEN ROSE!" The sound was visceral and deeply intimidating.
’A Syndicate-level group has e to our doorstep... that’s never a good sign,’ Max thought, his mind racing through the rosters of known organizations. He tried to remember if he had ever heard of them before. If he recalled correctly, the Fallen Rose had recently been an Organized-level group. They must have executed a high-profile hit on a larger rival to leapfrog into the Syndicate rankings so quickly. No group claimed that status without the bodies to back it up.
"Wait a second!" Sarah called out, stepping forward and pointing her bokken at Max. "Before we talk business, we need to know if these guys are even worth our time. I mean, look at him! We can’t respect a leader who hides behind his men. We hate those types of ’kings’ the most."
She looked at Abby, her eyes sparking with a challenge. "So, I have a suggestion. Why don’t you and Vera have a quick spar? Let’s see if this ’Boss’ is worth talking to, or if we should just get back to finishing our other job."
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