Chapter 67 — Rules Of The Mafia

Marco’s golden shields flickered and died.

His hands dropped to his sides, trembling visibly.

Behind those shields, he’d felt invincible for years.

Now they felt like paper walls against a hurricane.

"Wait! Just wait, please!"

His voice cracked with desperation.

Damian kept walking toward him, his axe dragging across the blood-soaked pavement with that horrible grinding sound.

"We surrender! I surrender! My men surrender! Just tell me why!"

Marco’s knees gave out. He collapsed, hands raised in submission.

"Why the hell are you even attacking us!? We never touched any Academy students! We don’t operate near the campus! What did we do to deserve this!?"

Damian stopped a few feet away.

His crimson eyes, cold and emotionless, stared down at the broken gang leader.

"Your gang runs drugs. Extorts businesses. Preys on people too weak to fight back."

He lifted his axe, resting it against his shoulder.

"That’s reason enough."

"But we’re not the only ones! Half the Outer Region does the same thing! Why target us specifically!?"

Marco’s voice was desperate, confused, terrified.

"Everyone has to start somewhere."

Damian’s tone was casual, like he was discussing the weather.

"I needed a territory to claim. You had one. Simple as that."

He tilted his head slightly.

"But you asked a good question. Why are you specifically getting destroyed tonight? Want the honest answer?"

Marco nodded frantically.

"You run drugs. I hate that business more than anything else in this world."

Damian’s voice went colder.

"Alcohol, cigarettes, gambling... those I can tolerate. People make their own choices with those. But drugs?

The drug business is run by forcing people to become addicted to poison, turning them into slaves. Destroy families as it ruins their lives."

His grip tightened on the axe handle.

"I watched what drugs did to people in my... I’ve seen what it does. So any organization under my control will never, ever touch that poison."

Marco swallowed hard.

"If I stop the drug operations, if we shut it all down right now, will you let us live?"

Damian studied him for a long moment.

Then he lowered his axe.

"Gather everyone who’s still breathing. Bring them to your headquarters. We’re going to have a conversation about how things work now."

Relief flooded Marco’s face.

"Thank you! Thank you, I swear we’ll–"

"Don’t thank me yet. You might not like what comes next."

****

Twenty minutes later, the surviving Serpent Gang members were gathered inside their headquarters, a rundown three-story building that reeked of cigarettes and desperation.

Sixty-three gang members remained alive out of the original hundred-plus.

They stood in nervous clusters, eyeing the blood-soaked students who’d somehow beaten them.

The Mafia members were in rough shape. Injuries wrapped in makeshift bandages, faces pale from blood loss and exhaustion, but they stood.

Edrin leaned against Ronan for support, his ribs screaming with every breath.

Lysa’s hands still trembled as she clutched her bow.

Zavier looked like he might throw up again any second, but he gripped his spear tightly.

Ariana stayed close to Damian, her calm expression never wavering despite everything.

Damian stood at the front of the room, his axe planted on the ground in front of him, both hands resting on the top of the handle.

Blood still dripped from his hair and clothes.

He looked like death incarnate.

"Listen carefully, because I’m only saying this once."

His voice cut through the nervous murmuring.

Complete silence fell.

"As of tonight, the Serpent Gang no longer exists. This territory now belongs to the Mafia. You all work for me now."

Angry mutters started.

"Why the fuck would we–"

"You work for me, or you die. Those are your options."

Damian’s tone didn’t change at all, still perfectly calm.

"I just killed your strongest fighters like they were nothing. Do you really think the rest of you stand a chance?"

The muttering stopped.

"Good. Now that we understand each other, here are the new rules. Break them, and I’ll kill you myself."

He held up one finger.

"First. The drug business ends tonight. Completely. No exceptions, no phasing out, no ’just this one last shipment.’ It stops now."

He pointed toward a corner of the room where dozens of crates were stacked.

"Marco. Those crates full of product. Bring them outside."

Marco hesitated.

"Boss, that’s worth millions. We can’t just–"

Damian’s eyes narrowed.

"Did I stutter?"

Marco flinched and immediately started barking orders.

Several gang members reluctantly began hauling the crates out to the street.

"Second rule."

Damian held up another finger.

"You will collect protection money from businesses in this territory, but it changes now. No more fixed extortion amounts.

You take a share of their profits. Five percent for small businesses, ten percent for larger ones. Scaled based on what they can actually afford."

Confused looks spread through the crowd.

One gang member, braver than the rest, spoke up.

"That’s... that’s way less than we were taking before. How are we supposed to make money?"

"You make money by protecting more businesses and helping them succeed. When they profit, you profit. Simple.

And you all don’t realize it. By following this approach, you make them richer, which in turn will make us richer. Think long term instead of short term is all I will say."

Damian’s voice was matter-of-fact.

"Any business that pays protection money becomes untouchable. No robberies, no assaults, no vandalism. You guard them like they’re your own family."

"But–"

"Which brings me to the third rule. No crimes in our territory. At all."

Dead silence.

"You protect the people here. That means no muggings, no assaults, no rapes, no theft. Nothing. This territory becomes the safest place in the Outer Region."

"That’s insane!" someone shouted. "We’re criminals! That’s what we do!"

"You were criminals."

Damian’s voice cut like a blade.

"Now you’re soldiers in my organization. And my soldiers don’t prey on civilians. They protect them."

He let that sink in.

"Fourth rule. We’re opening an orphanage. For street kids, runaways, anyone who needs it.

You’ll fund it from the protection money and run it properly. Feed them, clothe them, keep them safe."

More confused looks.

Marco spoke up carefully.

"Why would we do that?"

"Because I said so. And because those kids are potential recruits. Treat them well, give them a future, and they’ll be loyal to the Mafia for life."

Damian’s expression was calculating.

But even he didn’t know that he was just making excuses to make sure no child suffered hunger.

"Plus it makes the civilians like us. Easier to operate when people see us as protectors instead of parasites."

Several gang members nodded slowly, starting to understand the logic.

"Fifth rule. We’re expanding. The entire Outer Region will belong to the Mafia within six months. Every other gang either joins us or dies. No exceptions."

"That’s a war," Marco said quietly. "A big one."

"I know. Start preparing for it."

Damian pulled his axe from the ground and pointed it at the assembled gang members.

"Sixth rule. Get stronger. All of you. Train your Aura, practice your skills, improve your combat abilities. I will be coming here sometimes to train you. Anyone who doesn’t keep up gets kicked out."

His eyes swept across every face.

"I don’t need dead weight. I need soldiers who can fight."

"Seventh and final rule."

His voice dropped, becoming absolutely cold.

"No sexual assault. No human trafficking. No kidnapping. If you can’t control yourself, just go hire a prostitute or find a lover.

If I find out anyone under my command is doing any of that..."

He paused, letting the silence stretch.

"I will personally hunt you down and make what happened to Kael look merciful."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

"I will cut you apart so slowly you’ll beg for death. And I won’t give it to you for hours."

Nobody doubted he meant every word.

Boss is so good!

Many female students looked at Damian with shining eyes as they heard him give protection to women.

"These rules are non-negotiable. Follow them, and you’ll be protected, paid, and given opportunities to rise. Break them, and you die. Understand?"

Murmurs of acknowledgment.

"I said, do you understand!?"

"YES SIR!"

The shout was unified, loud, almost military.

Damian nodded.

"Good. Now get those drug crates outside."

****

In the street, sixty-three crates of various drugs were piled high.

Cocaine. Heroin. Methamphetamine. Pills of every color.

Millions of dollars worth of product.

The gang members looked physically pained watching their fortune get stacked up.

Damian walked to the pile, pulled out a lighter, and tossed it onto the nearest crate.

The flames caught immediately, spreading rapidly from crate to crate.

The drugs began to burn, sending acrid smoke into the night sky.

"That’s our money!" someone wailed.

"That was

Damian watched the flames with satisfaction.

"Your new money comes from protection fees and eventually the nightclubs we’re going to take over. Clean money. Sustainable money."

Marco stood beside him, watching his former fortune burn.

"You’re really serious about all this."

"Completely."

"And if we betray you?"

Damian glanced at him.

"You saw what I did to Kael. Do you really want to find out what I’d do to someone who betrayed me?"

Marco shook his head quickly.

"No sir. Definitely not."

"Smart man."

The Mafia students watched the bonfire in various states of shock and exhaustion.

Edrin limped over to Damian’s side.

"Boss... did you plan all of this from the start? Everything that you said to them?"

"Most of it."

Damian’s eyes never left the flames.

"I needed you all to see real combat. To understand what it means to fight people who actually want to kill you. And I needed a territory to start building from."

"Two birds, one stone."

"Exactly."

Ronan joined them, one arm wrapped around his broken ribs.

"Boss... where’d you learn to fight like that? With the axe?"

"An old man taught me. I selected two weapon arts from the start. One is Abyssal Slaughter and the other is Omega Point."

Damian’s tone made it clear that was all he’d say on the subject.

Lysa approached as well, her face still pale.

"I killed people tonight. Multiple people. I can still see their faces when I close my eyes."

"Good."

She looked shocked.

"Good? How is that good?"

"It means you’re still human. The day you stop seeing their faces is the day you should worry."

Damian finally turned to look at his Mafia members.

"You all did well tonight. Better than I expected for your first real operation. Let’s head back to the Academy soon. You all need medical attention.

Also, take account of the money the gang had and also take some armoured vehicles for our use.

It feels too weird to travel in buses to commit crime..."

Everyone laughed as they heard that.

Zavier raised a shaky hand.

"Boss? Can I ask something?"

"Go ahead."

"Why am I so good at killing people when I’m terrified?"

Several students laughed despite themselves.

Even Damian’s lips twitched slightly.

’Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that!?’

He clapped Zavier on the shoulder.

"You did fine, Zav. Never expected to see this side of yours."

"I think I’m gonna have nightmares forever."

"Probably. Get used to it."

"You guys! Stop talking and help me carry the fainted ones."

The drugs continued burning behind them, the smoke visible for miles.

Tomorrow, word would spread through the Outer Region.

The Serpent Gang had fallen.

The Mafia had arrived.

And the game had changed.