Virgil's boots squelched against the damp concrete, the sound echoing off the walls of the narrow passageway that wound its way to the Tower of Silence. The air hung heavy, a mix of smog and the indefinable scent of decay that seemed to permeate this part of the slums. He kept his pace steady, each step measured, aware of the weight of the upcoming confrontation.

<Are you sure you're gonna be okay?> Axion's voice, laden with worry, came over the comm link. <The Big Four's no joke, you know?>

"You already asked me this," Virgil mumbled. He drew in a slow breath and exhaled through his nose. "Stop worrying so much."

<I can't help it!> Her tone grew more indignant. <These guys run half the slums. It's a miracle they even agreed to meet with you!>

He reached up and adjusted his hat. "Calm down, will you? Everything's gonna be fine. It's a simple conversation between two parties."

<Right. Sure.> Her sarcasm was palpable. <'Simple conversation'. Of course!>

Virgil sighed. He felt her concern, but this was necessary. It was the only way they could draw the target off her and direct their attention elsewhere—namely, at Salvatore. If he was right about the man's involvement in the Shiver operation, the Big Four would be more than willing to discuss the matter once they learned of the connection. All Virgil needed to do was point them in the right direction. The rest would sort itself out.

"Just remember plan B," he continued. "In the event things go south, you—"

<Yeah, I know, I know. I'll wait for your signal and jump in. I get it. I still don't like this, though.> Axion huffed in frustration. <Why do I have to stay on standby while you go in alone?>

Virgil cracked a smile at that. "Because you'll end up saying some dumb shit that'll make things worse. Stay put. I'll handle everything. This isn't my first time dealing with these gangsters. And besides..." He patted the pistol at his hip. "I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. Trust me. I can take care of myself."

Axion made no response, but he could tell she was unconvinced.

He reached the end of the passage, stepping out into a small courtyard near the old telecom tower.

Nara awaited him, dressed in her usual worn robes and tattered cloak. Her hands remained concealed in voluminous sleeves, her hood drawn low to shroud her face. A small, flickering fire that danced in a battered oil drum cast flickering shadows on the surrounding walls, painting the area in shades of orange and red.

The old crone regarded Virgil with a disapproving grunt, her lips twisted in a frown. "Be glad, Backfire. I'm surprised they accepted your offer."

"Keep the banter to yourself, old hag." Virgil gave her a sidelong glance, then swept his gaze around the courtyard. "Where's the welcoming committee? I expected they'd come earlier than this."

"Hmph. As if you deserve such courtesy. Wait here; they'll be here soon enough." The old woman shuffled away, retreating deeper into the courtyard. "Don't cause trouble. If you do, I'm throwing you to the wolves."

Virgil didn't respond as he watched her leave, his jaw tense. He pressed the transmit button on his earpiece. "Axion, can you still hear me?"

No answer came. The earpiece remained silent, devoid of static or noise.

Nara must have set up a jammer or something. At least we had the chance to coordinate a bit beforehand. Still, I can't deny the fact I'm on edge.

His expression darkened, and he shifted his weight to his other foot, idly running his fingers over his revolver.

After a few minutes, he finally caught sight of four figures emerging from the gloom.

First to step into the dim light was "Butcher" Bill Donovan, a man whose reputation preceded him like a shadow stretching at dusk. His thinning hair was combed over in a vain attempt to conceal his baldness, but it was his eyes, sunken in a gaunt face, that marked him. He wore his stained lab coat like a badge of honor, a smirk playing on his lips as if he were privy to a joke only he understood.

From another alley emerged "Reverb" Ray, his features hidden behind the trademark mask with the sound waves and an audio equalizer motif, pulsing softly with every step he took. Silver locks fell in a wild cascade, giving him an untamed look that contrasted sharply with the sharp lines of his outfit—all dark tones of gray and black, broken up by the occasional flash of neon yellow. He stepped lightly, almost like he floated above the ground, moving with a preternatural grace that unsettled all who saw him. His movements always left echoes in the air, like after-images of sound and vibration, ringing in his wake.

The final two newcomers arrived from different directions—one through a street-level door, the other via rooftop.

"Hammer" Kareem stomped forward, a massive man with skin and muscle like tempered steel. His garb consisted of armored plates and protective gear, giving him the appearance of an urban guerrilla fighter. A single black tattoo stretched across the entire length of his forehead, an emblem representing the Ironclad Legion, while several smaller markings traced the side of his face. A patch with the same symbol adorned his chest, prominently displayed by the sleeveless vest he wore beneath his combat harness.

Kareem walked with the poise of a soldier, his eyes taking everything in with a cool efficiency. His expression, as usual, betrayed no emotion; he simply marched in silence, the heavy sound of his booted steps reverberating with each stride.

Lastly, "The Enforcer" Elijah Gray leaped down from the nearby rooftops, landing in a crouch on the street below. A palpable cloud of ash and smoke radiated around his body, cloaking him in a dense haze. He rose to full height, sweeping his gaze around the area before focusing on Virgil, the cold gleam of his eyes visible even through the dark fog.

Virgil maintained his composure as he locked gazes with the masked figure, resisting the urge to draw his pistol. Instead, he gave a nod of acknowledgment to the enforcer, earning a frosty stare in return.

Bill sauntered to the center of the courtyard, his hands in his pockets, whistling to himself. He shot an amused look at Virgil, chuckling. "Well well well, I can't believe I get to see the infamous Backfire again. What brings you crawling out of whatever hole you've been living in, hmm?"

"Business," Virgil answered, his tone level. "As I assume for all of you, too."

Ray cocked his head, a crackling hum emanating from his mask. "This must be an urgent matter for you to request a meeting with us. If it isn't, we will not hesitate to kill you." The mask's speaker distorted his words, making his tone impossible to decipher.

"Cut the shit and get to the point, Maddox," Elijah snapped, crossing his arms. "You're lucky we even agreed to meet with you. Don't waste our time."

Kareem's glare shifted to the enforcer, a slight frown crossing his face. "Speak to the man with respect, Elijah. He earned that right a long time ago." The giant man turned back to Virgil, fixing him with an impassive stare. "Maddox, whatever you intend to ask of us, get to it. Say your piece. Otherwise, you can kiss any further negotiations goodbye."

Virgil narrowed his eyes, drawing in a slow breath to steady himself. They sure know how to make a man feel welcome.

"Fair enough. Let me get straight to the point." Virgil paused, adjusting his hat. "All of you signed off on the bounty for Axion, correct?"

The gang lieutenants exchanged glances, sharing guarded looks with one another. Elijah's expression darkened, Bill's lip curled upwards into a sneer, Ray said nothing, and Kareem simply studied Virgil with his typical stoicism.

Finally, Bill shrugged. "So what if we did? The guy who offered the bounty wanted to remain anonymous, but the two million ChitCreds made a compelling case to agree." He tilted his head to one side, the corners of his eyes creasing. "Besides, the girl has caused no small amount of trouble for everyone; her actions have disrupted business. We can't overlook that."

"She's a problem. End of story," Elijah muttered under his breath, shooting Virgil a venomous glare. "The slums don't need someone trying to play hero. It's best the girl stops and sticks to minding her own business from now on. Or we can add her to our collection of corpses."

Ray crossed his arms, regarding Virgil through the glowing display of his mask. "I don't get why a Meta would waste the effort acting as a vigilante. What's the point? It won't change anything, and it won't make her life better. What she's doing is pointless."

"No one's arguing about the girl's motives; what matters is the situation she's putting herself in. If she wants to survive in the slums, she has to be realistic," Kareem added, his voice carrying a note of finality. "Maddox, is she the reason why you disappeared for ten years? Is she supposed to be your successor?"

Virgil glanced around, meeting their gazes for a split second before responding. "I wasn't the one who brought her in; she chose this path on her own. I have nothing to do with her choices. But..." He hesitated, a shadow passing across his face. "I admit I may have recently given her a nudge in the right direction, but her ideals, her beliefs—those belong to her. They are her reasons, not mine."

Elijah scowled at him, his fists clenched. "Yet, you're obviously helping her. Stop meddling, Maddox. It's not your place. Stick to cleaning your damn gun and minding your own fucking business." He snorted derisively, shaking his head. "You really think the girl has what it takes to succeed where you failed?"

Virgil met his challenge with stony silence, the enforcer's words striking a nerve.

Ray stepped closer, the glow of his mask flickering momentarily. "Do you disagree with his assessment?" His tone remained neutral, neither questioning nor mocking, simply stating a fact. "We all know how poorly you reacted to your past failure; is this a repeat of that mistake? Because the result will not be different. Unless..." He trailed off, tilting his head slightly. "...there's something else going on?"

Silence hung heavily in the air for several seconds before Kareem spoke again. "We're not here to rehash the past. That's not why we've gathered tonight. Maddox, finish what you came to say. Make your proposal. Then, we will consider if what you propose is worth entertaining."

Virgil glanced around the group, measuring their expressions. He'd dealt with these men before; they weren't stupid, and they had little patience for word games. So he'd cut to the chase.

"Axion's presence in the slums isn't the issue; it's about the one who issued that bounty in the first place—Salvatore. The Mad Chemist. I'm sure you all understand what I mean when I say his name."

At the mention of the supervillain's moniker, Bill's brows furrowed, while Elijah and Ray's heads snapped to Virgil, their posture shifting immediately. Kareem nodded once, his mouth settling into a thin line.

"The Mad Chemist," he echoed, a hint of disgust in his voice. "Why are we talking about him, Maddox? Speak plainly. And do it fast."

"The bounty was posted by Salvatore. He's the one who offered the reward for Axion's capture, and he's the one pulling the strings." Virgil crossed his arms, holding their gazes. "He's also the one supplying 'Shiver' to the slums. That's the real reason why the streets have gotten more chaotic as of late."

The gang lieutenants once again exchanged meaningful glances. This time, their expressions were considerably more strained.

Ray's mask flashed briefly, the light cycling rapidly through various patterns and colors before settling back to normal. He pivoted to Virgil, his voice containing a distinct edge to it. "How certain are you about this, Maddox?"

Virgil's shoulders tensed ever so slightly. The shift was subtle, but he knew they caught it.

"I crashed a drug deal between him and the Neon Vipers. He wasn't personally there but had proxies take care of the exchange. Based on their interaction, they're on familiar terms, and they clearly had a history together. Whatever is brewing, the Vipers are in with Salvatore."

Elijah's scowl deepened. He rolled his neck, cracking the bones audibly. "I fucking knew it. I told you not to trust the Vipers, Bill. Now they're in bed with the goddamn Mad Chemist!"

"Don't be so hasty," Bill shot back, lifting a finger in warning. "That doesn't automatically equate them to being complicit. We need proof that directly connects the Vipers to Salvatore, not mere speculation."

Ray ignored the pair as they argued back and forth, his gaze drifting toward the skyline. After several seconds, he spoke again, his voice softer and more contemplative. "My men had been keeping tabs on the Neon Viper's movements lately. Heard from the echoes in the alley that someone's set up a facility to cook something nasty."

He rubbed his chin with a gloved hand, tapping his fingers absentmindedly. "When I sent some to snoop around, they all got killed...except for one who came back. He told me that Axion was the one who killed them. Apparently, she was serving as their guard dog." Ray glanced at Virgil. "What do you think of that, Maddox? Coincidence? Or are you claiming responsibility?"

"I'm not. Axion would never work with the Neon Vipers," Virgil replied, his expression unchanged. "Your guy probably got pressured into lying to you by the one who actually killed your men. I'm more surprised that you fell for that nonsense."

A heavy sigh escaped Ray's mask, causing the oscillations in the lights to become increasingly erratic, mimicking the cadence of his words. "Son...of...a...bitch. You have no idea the headache you're giving me, Maddox. You better hope that's true, otherwise, we may have a problem, you and I. You following me?"

"Yeah. Loud and clear, Reverb," Virgil muttered, rolling his eyes. "Just for the record, you sound like a dying cricket when you sigh."

Bill held up a hand, cutting off the exchange. "Enough with the dick-measuring contest; this isn't the time. Focus. Maddox, assuming what you're saying is true, and the Vipers are connected to Salvatore, we could potentially cut the root of the problem at the source. By dealing with them, we also take out a competitor and eliminate a major supplier of 'Shiver' in the process. Two birds, one stone, and all that." He folded his arms, glancing over at Kareem. "Or is that too messy for you?"

"Don't speak for the Legion," the towering man growled, fixing him with a stern look. "We're barely tolerating your organ harvesting business, Donovan. Don't push your luck. Otherwise, the Red Market Syndicate will have a new gang war to contend with." He cracked his knuckles for emphasis.

"Charming," Bill chuckled, ignoring the threat. "Hammer, if I may offer some advice. It's always easier to go for the biggest, meatiest targets. They bleed the most, and you get the greatest rewards. Cutting the head off a snake and all that. Nothing personal, you understand, of course. I'm merely stating a fact, friend. Remember: the slums are a jungle, and we're the hunters."

"Stuff the posturing; no one's buying it," Elijah scoffed, glaring at Bill. "Look, let's get to the point: we have a common threat. The Mad Chemist. This is about saving face and cutting out a thorn in our side, not a fucking charity operation. Everyone gets their pound of flesh. Understand? Even the Metropolis doesn't care about what happens in the slums, especially if we solve their problem for them."

Kareem remained silent, weighing the options with a distant look in his eyes. He paced the ground slowly, his heavy footsteps leaving indents in the damp earth. Eventually, he stopped in front of Virgil, sizing him up for a moment before speaking.

"Maddox, why go through the effort of arranging this meeting? You could've taken your concerns straight to the Vipers themselves. Why bother going to all the trouble of negotiating with us, instead of taking care of the problem by yourself?" He arched an eyebrow, peering intently at the gunslinger. "Explain yourself."

Virgil met his scrutiny calmly, holding his gaze without flinching. "Like I said, I'm mainly here to make a bargain—recede the bounty on Axion; call it off. In exchange, she'll be willing to work with you in stopping Salvatore's schemes. He's the bigger target, and we want him taken out."

"Work with us?" Kareem echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Define that for me, please. Because when you say that, it implies that she'll be under my employ."

"It's simple: she won't interfere with your operations unless you actively cross her path, and she will do everything within her power to stop the Mad Chemist. It's mutually beneficial in the end."

A grim laugh escaped the towering man's lips, and he shook his head in disbelief. "That's not how I recall you working, Maddox. From what I've seen, your methods tend to involve more death and destruction. How is this supposed to reassure me?"

"Because my partner is nothing like me," Virgil retorted, locking eyes with the gang lieutenant. "Trust me, she's an idealist at heart; she wants to make a difference in the slums, and she believes she can. Take her to task for that." He adjusted his hat, glancing at Kareem. "Does this seem acceptable to you, Hammer?"

The burly gangster remained silent for several long moments, and his brow creased as he considered the proposal. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, his eyes distant and unfocused.

Eventually, he lifted his head, his gaze sharpening as it settled upon Virgil. "Acceptable? Hardly. It's far too generous of a deal for you to be making, which leads me to believe there's a catch. An angle. I'm just not seeing it. Besides, the Legion doesn't need help from one lone Super."

Elijah grunted, narrowing his eyes. "Goddamn right, what's one little Super girl gonna do that we can't handle by ourselves, huh? Do you take us for idiots?"

Bill chuckled darkly, winking. "Who knows, maybe Maddox is just hedging his bets? Can't blame the man for trying. I'd probably do the same thing. But I agree, that's far too much of a concession for us to grant, wouldn't you say? Two million ChitCreds buys a lot of loyalty from the slums, more than what your little hero can offer."

Virgil exhaled, clenching his jaw. "So I take it that you'll need further convincing?"

"Bingo." Bill flashed him a crooked grin, nodding in amusement. "Sorry to disappoint, old friend. A shame, but we can't be too careful when making deals with someone from outside our ranks. You understand, right?"

Virgil's expression hardened as he scanned the group, noting their collective defiance. Their minds seemed to be made up; they had no intention of changing their stance anytime soon.

"Well, guess it's time for plan B."