The streets of District 10 had a peculiar silence that night. The usual clamor of rats scuttling across alleyways and the distant shrieks of sweepers were muted, as though the city itself was holding its breath. The neon lights flickered intermittently, casting long, jagged shadows that danced across the cracked walls of abandoned buildings. Somewhere in the darkness, the faint clanging of metal on metal echoed.
The three new recruits, still reeling from their initial initiation, stood huddled together in a small, dusty room at the back of the Familia's base. The burn marks on their forearms stung as a constant reminder of their new allegiance. Their wide eyes darted from one corner of the room to another, never fully at ease.
"I still can't believe we actually went through with that," whispered the middle rat, rubbing his forearm gingerly. "I thought I'd die the moment that steaming-hot metal came near us."
"Die? We almost did," muttered the one on the left, still shivering from the memory. "I don't even know how we survived that. What kind of place is this?"
The rat on the right, who had been strangely confident during the poster discussion, leaned against the wall, trying to mask his fear with bravado. "Hey, don't complain. At least we have somewhere to stay. You know what happens if we roam the streets at this time, right?"
The others shot him incredulous looks. "You mean..." the middle rat began, but the right one only nodded grimly.
"Yes, we could've been sweeper food if we didn't come here."
Their moment of uneasiness was interrupted by the sound of footsteps creaking up the stairs. A shadow fell over the doorway, and a man stepped inside, his long, dark coat trailing behind him. His face was partially obscured by tattoo enhancements.
"I am Capo Joan," the man said in a low, gravelly voice. "The Don sent me to oversee your first mission. You will be raiding a newly founded office down south."
The recruits blinked, puzzled, as if the man in front of them were joking. "Raid? We just joined?" the middle rat asked nervously.
"Yes," Joan said, looking at the nervous and scared rats. "This raid is your trial—proof of whether you are of use to the Don. But don't fear; I am here to help you succeed."
Outside, the district air was thick and electric. The recruits followed Joan through a maze of narrow alleys and decaying buildings. Ahead loomed the target: a newly built fixer office called Yuan's Office.
"This is it," Joan whispered. "Grab anything around you as weapons. This should be easy—only six fixers are inside, and only one is Grade 8. If the Grade 8 shows up, I'll handle it."
The recruits swallowed hard. Fear wavered between panic and adrenaline. Joan stepped forward and, with a single punch, broke through the front door, alerting everyone inside the office.
Joan stepped in, and the three recruits followed. Inside, baffled fixers froze for a moment, then quickly grabbed their weapons and charged to fight.
"We're being raided! Tell Yuan!" one fixer screamed, and another rushed to the back to alert their boss.
"Take care of them," Joan said, facing a fixer who charged at him with a weapon raised. He simply held out his hand, grabbed the fixer's head, and crushed it effortlessly.
The recruits were shocked. Seeing their Capo kill a fixer in one swift move gave them a surge of confidence—they began to believe they could survive this raid.
Joan left the remaining fixers to the recruits and chased the one who had gone to find their boss.
At the back, the fixer boss—Yuan—stood with an axe in one hand and a cigar in his mouth. "You! Are you the ones raiding my office?!" he shouted.
"Yes," Joan replied coldly. "The Familia does not allow offices near our territory." Without waiting for another word, Yuan charged, axe raised. Joan effortlessly sidestepped the strike and countered by slamming Yuan's head against the wall, crushing it instantly.
The remaining fixers, trembling with fear, fell back. "No witnesses," Joan muttered, then stomped on one fixer's head, crushing it under his leather shoe, his cloak brushing against the bloodied floor.
He stepped outside to check on the recruits. All three were alive, breathing heavily, with four bodies lying in the office—one killed by Joan, the rest by the recruits.
A smile crept across Joan's face. "Good work, men. You are now official Soldatos of the Don."
The three recruits, now official Soldatos of the Familia, heaved in relief. They would live to see another day.
"Well then, let's go back. I have to report this to the Don," Joan said, leaving the now-ruined office. The three Soldatos responded in unison: "Yes, Capo Joan!"
The four walked back to the Familia's base, the streets of District 10 echoing faintly with the remnants of their chaos.
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Second chapter speed run this thing!!!