The door to the VIP box opened.
Vance stepped out, holding the electronic key he'd looted from Viper's corpse. He was pale; the high-intensity psychological warfare had drained him. But his spine was straight, his steps measured.
The corridor was packed with heavily armed guards. They had heard the commotion. Now, they gripped their weapons nervously, barrels lowered but killing intent pricking Vance's skin like needles.
They smelled the blood. The blood of their boss drifting from the room.
"If you don't want to die, move."
Vance didn't stop. He didn't even glance at the guns. He held up the key, rubbing his thumb over it.
"The Zero-Sum Protocol is in effect. Viper lost. He bet himself and this arena, and he lost." Vance's voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the silence.
"I am the boss now. If you fire, you declare war on The Balance."
The guards exchanged glances. They knew what The Balance meant. The Sword of Damocles hanging over every Underground resident. In District 9, disobeying a Notary meant your entire family got purged.
A sour scent of Hesitation spread through the crowd.
Then, Crow appeared behind Vance like a ghost. He said nothing. He just stood there, his faceless mask radiating an oppressive pressure that shattered the guards' psychological defense.
Clatter.
Someone lowered their gun. Then another. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, opening a path to the arena floor.
Vance smirked and walked through. He didn't need their loyalty; he needed their fear. Fear was a stronger chain than loyalty.
He descended the spiral stairs to the center of the blood-soaked ring.
The white-haired boy was still standing there.
The cheers had long died out. The arena was empty, save for the hum of the ventilation fans.
The boy looked down at his blood-stained hands. At his feet lay the shredded mutant beast. But he didn't seem to realize what he had done. In this killing machine's logic, No Command = No Action. He stood frozen, like a broken doll.
Vance walked up to him. The smell of blood, sweat, and the stale odor of long-term confinement hit him.
Vance frowned, but he didn't step back.
He reached out and placed his hand on the massive black collar around the boy's neck.
The boy flinched. A reflex of terror. He expected a shock. A low whimper escaped his throat, like a frightened puppy.
"Don't be afraid."
Vance's voice was soft, sounding thin in the vast space.
"The game is over. From now on, you're mine."
Vance pressed the key.
Click.
The collar, a symbol of slavery, gave a soft sound. The red light blinked off. The metal ring loosened slightly.
Vance could have taken it off completely, giving the boy total freedom.
But he didn't.
In this cannibalistic world, total freedom equaled death. A mad dog without a master would only end up shot by Security.
So Vance relocked the clasp, but instead of the torture mode, he set it to Dormant.
"I won't take it off. Not yet." Vance looked into the boy's eyes, his tone cold and rational. "Because you don't know how to be a human yet. Until you learn to control your claws, this collar is your amulet."
The boy looked at him, confused. He didn't understand the complex words. But he felt it—the current that always buzzed against his nerves was gone.
The fear of death hanging over his head... vanished.
Vance dug into his pocket.
He pulled out a candy.
He'd grabbed it from a reception desk bowl on the way in. A cheap, strawberry-flavored hard candy, the wrapper glinting under the lights.
Vance peeled it and held the pink sphere to the boy's lips.
"Open."
The boy froze. His logic core had data on killing, on dodging. But no data on candy.
But he smelled it. Amidst the sickening blood, a trace of sweetness he had never experienced. He opened his mouth tentatively.
Sweet.
A taste he had never known exploded on his tongue, seemingly melting the noisy static in his brain.
The boy's pupils dilated. In those dead, abyss-like eyes, a faint light flickered for the first time. The light of a living being.
"Good?" Vance asked.
The boy hesitated, then nodded vigorously.
"Remember this taste," Vance said, his eyes deep.
"This is the taste of being alive. Be obedient, and this taste will always be there."
"Now. Follow me."
Vance turned and walked toward the exit.
He didn't look back. He knew the "dog" would follow. Not because of the collar's command, but because of the candy.
In this cruel wasteland, controlling a soul didn't always require high voltage or neurotoxins. Sometimes, you just needed to give them a little sweetness when they were most desperate. That little sweetness was enough to make them die for you.
The boy watched Vance's back. He tasted the sugar in his mouth. He moved his stiff legs and stumbled after him.
He didn't know who this man was or where they were going. But he knew that following this man meant candy.
One in front, one behind, they walked out of the beast's maw.
Outside, the rain had stopped. Under the eternally muddy sky of District 9, neon lights flickered in the puddles.
Vance stood on the street, taking a deep breath of the damp air, his eyes scanning the horizon.
He won the first gamble. He had money, territory, and the sharpest blade.
But he also smelled it. In the wind, a new, more dangerous scent was brewing. Greed. Envy. The eyes hiding in the dark were watching the usurper.
"The Seven Deadly Sins..." Vance whispered the names, a crazy smile touching his lips.
"Don't worry. Your turn is coming."
He pulled up his collar, covering half his face. With the monster named Cerberus trailing behind him, Vance vanished into the depths of the labyrinthine alleys.
The hunt had just begun.