They ran me through a quick crash course of ‘don’t mess around with thugs.’ I wasn’t a pushover, having seen my fair share of street fights. But the brutality and raw strength of these two surpassed any meager resistance I could put up. It didn’t take long to deduce the fact these two were cultivators, ones who’d broken through to a higher stage than me. The whole of the gambling den ignored my struggle, and all I earned for my shouts of help was another jab to my gut.

They took my chips! The loss hurt worse than their elbow buried into my stomach.

Then they tossed me into a tight barren room, just a bit bigger than a janitor’s closet. Furnished with a single table crammed in the center with cheap wooden chairs around it. “Take a seat. Don’t bother yelling, nobody’s coming for you." The door slammed. I scrambled over to the exit, jiggling the knob—to hear a jostle as it locked from the outside. Why hadn't they beat me and tossed me out?

Were they planning on killing me? I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying to ease my frayed nerves.

The cold aluminum of a cheap flip phone brushed my knuckles. They’d been too stupid to check me. I didn't let myself feel too much relief, taking a quick scan of the room. No cameras, and a locked door. Maybe I had a chance. I whipped out my phone and scanned my contacts.

There wasn't a single person that’d have my back. All of my squad members were scared to associate with me. If I called my psycho lieutenant, he’d laugh in my face. And I didn’t wanna drag Ma into this shit-fest. My hands shook as I set the phone on the table. There was one name, right under Ma’s.

Romeo.

Fuck, really? There wasn’t a choice. After fucking up my message a couple of times, thanks to shaking hands, I managed to compose a message begging for help. Calling him was a piss idea, especially if he was still at our house. No matter what, I refused to drag Ma into this. This was my best shot.

The phone clicked shut, and I stuffed it away. Last bit of hope I had rode on my Uncle seeing my message, and somehow being able to help. Well, if they killed me, he’d know where I’d died.

Didn’t take too long before a woman entered, even if to me it felt like an eternity. Her nails painted a bright blood tone, her eyeshadow the same emerald as a serpent's scales. She dressed in sharp attire, a sleek business suit. She wore a plain smile and shut the door behind her. The sound of the lock sealing us in followed right after. That left us alone—Either I wasn’t a serious threat to them, or this lady could bash my face in without a sweat. Did this lady have a Soul Seed? She gestured to a chair. “Sit. Please tell me you’re cooperative, I’d rather this go quicker.”

I remained standing. Easier to defend yourself on your feet than with your ass parked in a seat. Her smile sharpened, and the room lurched as my Soul Seed rang with a warning. Her body shimmered purple, as a second figure stepped out from her. Tall, and thin, the purple condensed into a loose shape of a monstrous woman. One whose arms stretched past hunched knees. The Manifested Soul tilted its head in my direction, its eyes hid behind a black blindfold wrapped around its otherwise smooth face.

Fuck. It was impossible to tell what stage of cultivation she was at. But she’d clearly broken past the Soul Seed stage, and even the one past that. Meaning her soul was either Refined or Awakened.

I sat my ass down and set my hands on the table in plain sight. She gave me a smile and a nod; her Soul remained out, crossing the room in two easy strides. It lurked behind me, a monster out of sight.

She took a seat, her nails tapped the wood. “Let's see. Are you working for anyone?”

“Aint working with nobody.”

The lie barely left my mouth, before I gasped. A sharp pain shot down my spine, my head slammed into the table. Shivering with an absurd lance of agony. Fifteen seconds of pure hell before it faded away. I huffed and struggled for air.

“Now, now. That was a lie. I’d suggest not doing that again. We’ll try once more. Who do you work for?”

My head was heavy, but I forced myself to meet her cold eyes. “I’m with the Brass Kings,” I tensed, waiting for another pure injection of hell. Nothing.

“Ah, one of the motorcycle gangs. Go figure. You have a Soul Seed, right?”

“I do,” I responded with as little as I could manage, but not a lie. The pain didn’t come. Lying meant punishment. But I’d be damned if I spilled every-fucking-thing to this bitch. I’d found a way around whatever bullshit ability she had.

“And just what Soul Ability did you receive from your Soul Seed?”

This time I bit my tongue. My eyes locked on hers, it was a bad idea to give away your Soul Ability to people you didn’t trust. Her unconcerned face faded away, taking on the appearance of a predator toying with prey. If I wasn’t allowed to lie, then I just wouldn’t speak.

In a burst, my head snapped to the left, the chair under my ass tumbling away at the sheer power of her Soul smacking the side of my head. Barely able to register the pain from the blow before the left side of my face smashed against the floor.

Her Soul hunched over me, its long fingers yanking me to my feet. It righted the chair, then parked me back into it. My face was a pure burning pain, as the strength of her Soul, brokered no contest. This lady overpowered me completely and utterly. My bad luck never seemed to end. A plaything to the powerful. I rubbed at my face.

“Now, we try again. What is your Soul Ability?”

This time I let it spill. All about Fickle Fate’s power. My cultivation stage, and a few pointed questions from her about the Brass Kings and my rank within them. It didn’t feel good to snitch, but it felt worse to get my face bashed in even more, which left me with little choice. She got every answer she wanted, and I tried to draw out my answers as I sensed the conversation hitting its end. I didn’t want to see what came after the interrogation.

She filed her nails, before cutting off a rambling story about Tristan. “Do you realize who I work with?”

“No.” An honest answer. Not just because the thing before me would drive a needle of pain in my spine with a lie.

“The Segreto Famiglia.” She said sadistic glee on her face. Oh. That was bad. All the gangs in New Valentine bowed their heads to the Segreto. Their influence in the underbelly of the Rising Sun spanned back to this nation’s founding. If the Sects ruled New Valentine in the light, then the Segreto reigned in the dark. “You came into our casino, cheated our family, then tried your best to lie and deceive. How do you plan to make up for this grievance?”

“I-I—“ If you stuck a hand in Segreto business, you lost it; she maintained that evil smile of hers

“I suppose I can be persuaded to offer you forgiveness if you pay the blood price.”

Cold fear burned inside me. A living nightmare, that I could only blame myself for. If I’d just taken the five-thousand and left. If I’d paid a bit more attention to the suited motherfuckers running this place, there were a thousand different decisions I’d made that led me right into this horrible mess.

Someone knocked on the door. The well-dressed lady frowned, gaze flickering to it. “Enter.” She called out, folding her legs.

The door cracked open to reveal one of the bastards who nabbed me. His head bowed as if he were about to apologize to the woman, but he didn’t get a second to explain before the last face I expected to see pushed past. Romeo strode into the room, sharply scanning the Soul behind me, then giving a wide smile to the woman. His hands spread wide, as if in a friendly greeting. “Apologies, sorella. But, this boy is off the table. Please allow him under my care, I shall personally handle this matter.”

“He stole from the famiglia. A price must be paid, what would others think if he walked away without proper punishment?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

“As I said, he shall not be allowed free without paying a price, rather, I shall handle it. You’ve done well, have pride. This will be resolved in a way which brings honor to the famiglia. You trust me, yes?”

She paused. I took the chance to evaluate Romeo. My face still burned, and my mind reeled from the blow to my head, so I couldn't be sure if I'd heard him correctly. She bowed her head. A burst of purple mist behind me, as she retracted her Soul. “As you bid, so I shall do, Fratello.” She stood up, brushing down her formal skirt; she paused pausing next to Romeo and he leaned in and engaged the woman in a brief hushed conversation.

Romeo gave her a fond pat on her shoulder and gave her a nod. Then she was gone. “Come, passerotto. Follow.”

We walked out of the gambling den, my uncle got a few respectful gestures from the men and women that seeded the place. Now that I knew what to look for, I felt dumb to not notice all the muscle in this joint, and that my commotion got their attention. Causing my ultimate downfall. Embarrassing.

The issue with thrill was it had a way of narrowing your scope of the world. It was easy to get so intoxicated with the energy thrumming in this place that fed my Soul Seed that making a mistake was inevitable.

Romeo led me out of the den, to his car parked down the street. He opened the passenger door for me. Not a single word, even as he got into the driver's seat, he simply waited for me to get in, started the engine, and took off down the road.