555. Overwhelming Firepower
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The heart of the Red Grin Syndicate was another brick in the wall casino of the City of Diamonds. Nothing substantial separated it apart from the norm. That was until one dug past the surface.

Long stretches of unused land surrounded it. The foundations of underdeveloped homes were built atop the slums where not a soul was left in sight. Belongings of the impoverished littered the hidden slums which were used as a passageway to ender the casino.

The casino itself was a three storied building made from complementary gold and black brick. Only one entrance and exit were available and that was through a revolving door. Within was an open atrium where the balconies of all floors had access to.

It was built five years ago by fairly large reputable construction company associated with the Brick & Mortar Association. However, due to the lack of their jurisdiction other malevolent hands found their way into deal, creating an unregulated casino protected by fraudulent paperwork.

Clinks of champaign filled glass and cutlery slicing into steak far too gamy to be ordinary meat. It was paired with a side of buttered potatoes and sausages overloaded with spices to enhance the flavour of the mystery meat.

Regardless, it was clear that this place belonged only to the rich. And yet as those suited individuals dined, they were entertained by the grim sight of the unfortunate gamble their lives away.

“Five aces –!? How can that be? Is this… Is this not poker?” A woman dressed in unsanitary rags scratched the back of her head. The itch intensified to the point where it was surprising that flakes of skin did not shower the poker table.

Another participant had played a ‘five of a kind’ – a hand that should not be possible in fifty-two deck of cards.

Taunting laughter filled the tables of the observers. It was all part of the entertainment – the entrée’ before the main course which was the bidding for the healers.

“Madam. This is our version of poker. If you have nothing left to gamble, then you can also offer yourself.” A cruel glint shone in the dealer’s eyes, for she knew the fate that would befall the poor soul across her. “I assure you that our estate is regulated and endorsed by the Golden Ring. Accusations such as that is no less than calling us cheaters. You can see the deck for yourself. There are fifty-three cards in a deck after all.”

She wore a red play mask with a mocking grin. Her red hair did not seem to be coloured with normal red dye. Even compared to the woman across her, her hair was in terrible condition like the nest of a hen.

“Fifty-three… It’s always been this way?”

“Always. You must be tipsy from the all the complementary drinks. Have more. Wash those sorrows away. Shall we play again or are you finished?”

“I…”

“Please think about your home. Where will your children live if it gets taken away? But of course if you make arrangements with us then we’ll take good care of them.”

The Dealer lapped her lips as the onlookers took refined bites from their steaks.

Clearly the woman had no idea whether this was true or not. Her mind was transfixed on the idea of making back what she had lost long ago when she was constricted by debt.

The Golden Ring and the Middle Way Association were responsible for what was called the Fair Act policy regarding casinos in the Nex Megalopolis.

The Act served to guarantee two things: the first was total fairness by the establishment through Fairies. The fact that there were no slot machines was evident that Fairies were not present.

This should have been the first red flag.

The second was to ensure that no person could lose a certain amount. That amount was determined by the Middle Way Association. But this also meant that people could not win over a certain amount either, creating a black market for the greedy and desperate to win big – or in nearly all cases – to lose it all.

“So? What will you choose?”

The second red flag was that the establishment was never allowed to coerce or give an ultimatum to the customer. They were to remain in a bubble of their own.

“Play… Let me play. Let me in.”

“Very well. Please do your best, dear customer~”

Desperation oozed in from her voice, further whetting the appetite of the suited men and women along all floors. She was unfortunately not the only victim present, and associates of the establishment filled gambling tables to ensure that it was impossible for them to lose.

The cacophony of despair paired well with the jeers and clinks of silverware. Before long a brigade of fur-coated individuals easily distinguishable from the others emerged from a connected hallway.

“Gather the Buyers. The auction’s opening in ten minutes.”

The leader of this group rang a small bell as his compatriots split off to whisper the upcoming main event into the ears of their most esteemed guests.

“Healers…”

“So the rumours were true. Thank you. It’s not always that we can get our hands on such valuable bargaining pieces.”

“For bargaining? Are you not more curious about what’s inside of them?”

A flash of fire and unscrupulous desire filled their eyes. They followed the red, fur-coated individuals back through the hall.

They disappeared down a hidden stairwell once they were given a red tragedy play mask to differentiate themselves from members of the Red Grin. The leader of the group remained firmly in place, standing not far from the table with the red-haired Dealer.

“Why aren’t you gone? You’re gonna scare business away.”

“Don’t the doors lock at this time?” The man in the coat did not turn to pay her any heed. He was far more concerned by his long locks which were styled into a graceful, black ponytail that ran as far down as his legs.

“What about it? Stick to the backrooms. We have this place under control. Unless you want to get on the bad side of us Dealers~”

“I’d be a fool. They stationed me here as an observer. Amusing how quickly your tone has changed as soon as our real guests disappeared.”

The man – who was a new recruit from weeks ago – spoke in a playful, almost whimsical manner like he was stuck inside of a dream. His light blue eyes were focused elsewhere, even when the Dealers from above leaned over the balconies above.

Their drawn weapons were telling of their intentions. Yet the man did not seem unfazed even the slightest.

“Let’s not be hasty now. It will be hard to explain why there’s blood right in front of your doorstep.”

“Bullshit! Who stationed you here!? The Boss?”

A switch had flipped inside of the Dealer. Her cards were slammed onto the table, splitting it in half as all associates jumped from their seats.

“Something like that. The higher ups have only told me to act as a guarantee.”

The man took a pocket watch from his coat, as the others drew blades from theirs. He counted the time with the swaying of his head, his pony-tail swinging like a pendulum.

“Guarantee? When did they care if we honor our deals or not? Don’t tell me… you feel sorry for this thing? You must be insane. She did that to herself.”

“My home… the lands you bought – my home was –!”

“Huh? Who said this thing could speak!? If you don’t keep that mouth shut, then your kids are going to be served as an entrée! You won’t even fetch for a single copper!”

Cannibals.

The Red Grin were more than just traffickers. They were a derivative of the Blood Filters, who were already one of the larger Syndicates in the City of Spades.

Their previous role was to relay information through convicted criminals to the Blood Filters. This information regarded the states of Grandis, Emvita, and the Nex Megalopolis.

But they have now operated as an entirely separate entity ever since the end of the Atelier War.

Restaurants were barely regulated in D7 which opened the market for inexpensive meat for the people they themselves had made poor. They solved a problem they created by kidnapping family members and selling them back in pieces unbeknownst to them.

Additionally, they were involved with kingdoms from both Grandis and Emvita who sought to take Healers under the perceived weakening of the Ateliers.

The man only continued to grin to himself as he hummed an uncaring tune.

“Recruit. I don’t know who told you that, but you’re forgetting how the hierarchy works in this place. The Boss doesn’t like it when the likes of you stick around here. So what the fuck do mean by guarantee?”

“I wasn’t talking about you.” He said, watching the second hand of the watch intently.

Then, was he leisurely slipped the watch away, he clapped his hands together. The clap deafened everyone within the building in an instant as windows cracked. It was not a clap that could be done by an ordinary human.

And in that instant, the Dealer quickly realized something was deeply amiss.

“I was talking about them.”

“Tch. Just kill him –!”

A blade was plunged into his back by one of the associates.

However –

*Snap*

The blade snapped when it met his nape.

“It just…!?”

More blades were lunged into his body. The weak cloth easily gave way, but they stopped short at his bare flesh. Crossbow bolts were fired at him above, but they too had no effect on his body.

“A High-Ranking Adventurer…?”

“The hell are you!?”

“Tch. Who’s paying you!? I doubt they can match our spending power. We’ll give you triple of what they’re paying!” The Dealer became desperate, knowing well that it was utterly futile to resist.

“Don’t fear me. I’m only here as a guarantee. Remember?” He brought a finger to his lips as he walked towards the threatened who cowered in her chair.

“That again… Like I said – what the fuck are you talking about!?”

Then, with a hand placed on the spine of her chair, his tone deepened as he commanded:

“Duck.”

She did as tell, and in the next instant, a hailstorm of bullets burst through the walls. The bullets shallowly penetrated his body, but he paid no heed as it was quickly followed by healing bullets.

Screams were drowned by crumbling walls and shattering windows. Silverware disintegrated as tables were riddled with more holes than a sponge. All levels of the establishment were sustained under heavy fire for a minute straight before all fell silent.

“*Hic* I don’t want to die… *Sniffle*.”

“Oh dear. Was it too noisy?” His calming demeanor returned as he glanced around him, admiring the work of the distant Black Wings. “Precisely on time~”

The poor woman clasped onto her ears. She had miraculously survived thanks to the man’s command. As for the others – their bodies no longer existed. Only minced chunks of them remained.

Few had survived, evident by sifting rubble. By some miracle all victims of the establishment were unharmed by the barrage. The reason for this was because he was not the only Moon present to supervise the assault.

Indeed. There were multiple Moons present. This way the Black Wings were unlikely to perish and were here to guarantee the success of the elimination of the Red Grin. Furthermore, as they were associated with foreign groups it was highly important that the Black Wings didn’t go on a total killing frenzy.

The walls were suddenly blown off using rounds that defied logic. It was more accurate to say that the walls were erased. Brigades of Black Wings entered the atrium, their weapons held high in case there were still existing threats.

“Above! Destroy them!”

A three-feathered Black Wing announced, spotting a woman wielding a crossbow. The hail of bullets reduced her to a red mist as a plume of debris filled the other half of the second floor above. A large section of the second and third floor was erased as a result.

“Gather the survivors. Get them healed!”

“Pretend you don’t see the Moons! Wait, oh hi mister! Don’t mind us!” One had a sudden change of heart when she noticed the man, her evil expression changing to one of adoration. She gave him a salute and went on her way, smiling with a slight blush.

“So full of energy. Aren’t they cute, madam? Madam?”

“*Sniffle*.”

“I’m glad you agree too~”


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