Chapter 2: Paint it, Black

Chapter 2: Paint it, Black

Really, Luca? an annoyed voice rang from my side, slaughtering my buzz. I slowly turned to see the scowl of my lieutenant. Tristan Marsh. His arms crossed, with that stupid flashy gold watch decorating his wrist. Wasnt sure if I hated that more or less than the dumb sunglasses over his eyes. We were in the middle of a dark room for the Immortals sake. Then there was that corny-ass-red dragon tattoo on a shaved side of his head. I mean, I knew you were unreliable. But really, cheating? At our own venue?

Damn, I aint done a thing. Leave me be. I said as I tried to turn away.

Dont lie. I see right through it. Youre not even supposed to be gambling. Did you forget that were here as security? He jerked a finger towards my part of the wall. That is where youre supposed to be. Not cheating in the middle of our gambling den.

What, that scrawny fuck rat me out?

Those blank sunglasses gave nothing away, but his scowl did. Three-fourths of what you won.

What?

You heard me. Hand over three-fourths of your winnings. Then you go and do your job. Im sick of having to manage such a useless, unreliable, waste of space. Tristan straightened and checked his watch. Least you can do is pay for wasting my time. Unless you want a beating, you will obey.

I fidgeted, doing some quick mental math. This game paid eight to one. Meaning, Id won four hundred chips. If I paid this dick-hole, hed take three hundred, which frankly was way too immortals-damned much. Three hundred chips meant a month or two Ma didnt have to worry about paying for food. Might even be able to get Alex some new clothes, not just my hand-me-downs, like usual.

Naw. I won. Im keeping it.

Really? You want to play this game again, Luca? You realize the only reason Ive kept you around is to take punches in the place of more useful people in the squad. Your Soul Ability is unreliable trash. Tristan glanced at his watch again. What, did he have something better to do? Stare at degenerates betting away their life savings? Please. Pay me, then return to your job. That is an order, not a suggestion.

Number seven, eighteen, and twenty-four! Winners have ten minutes to get their chips! Else it goes to the house! The bookie screamed, followed by cheers from the winners and groans from the losers around the rat roulette table.

H-huh? he said, refusing to meet my eyes.

I tossed my cigarette and stomped on it. Didnt feel like burning this place down, but even if the kid screwed me over, itd be rude to blow smoke in his face. With this new distance, it was clear he was young. Not even a little bit of muscle. Just how the hell did he get into the Brass Kings? Even I could mop the ground with him, but hey, guess that was the Seventh Division. Useless castoffs. I leveled with him, hunching to meet his height.

Listen, man, that wasnt cool. I was just trying to have some fun, alright? Now my boss is going to ride my ass for who knows how long. I spread my hands out. He still didnt look at me, and I was trying to have an immortals-damned heart-to-heart here.

I-I really dont know what you mean. A-are you talking about that spark? It just caught my eye. Thats all. His voice faltered.

Maybe he didnt say anything. Tristan had been annoyingly observant since Id joined his squad, so wasnt much of a stretch.

Aw, fine. Its fine anyway. Youre part of the Seventh Division, right? Surprised they even have ya all backing this den, since the other captains dont trust ya for jack-shit. I bet this kid didnt even have a Soul-Seed. Only about a third of people did. Even if that rate ran a little higher in the gangs, if that was from the stress or danger, or if just attracted the type, couldnt say.

Some mortals joined a gang to have a shot of triggering a Soul Seed. Though, that was a dumb idea. Sects made sure to hide away the secrets of breaking bottlenecks into the higher cultivations levels. Then, there was that fact that no one would help them, since training your Soul Seed was incredibly personal. Soft-skinned rich kids or dumb internet experts regularly pushed themselves too far and fucked up. The truth was that there was no way to predict if you were even capable of triggering one.

I-I Its fine. Our lieutenant takes care of us. One day, I-Ill be like my brother the soft spoken-kid muttered, eyes on his feet. Hate it as much as I did, it still tugged on my heart. He reminded me a bit of Alex, just a dumb little kid. The hell was he doing in the Brass Kings?

Ya know, its dangerous to be in this gang, yeah? Just the other week my squad got in a brawl, and someone took a knife to the gut. Dont want that, do ya? Whats your name, kid?

A-a knife!? he took a gulp, meeting my eyes for the first time. Suzaki. I-I well belong here. Im needed. I just need to get stronger. There was a bit of steel, hidden behind that wool. Huh. I gave him a smile.

I moved to pat his shoulder, but a hand shot out and locked my wrist in mid-air. Cold nails dug into my skin. Suzakis eyes bulged as he backed into the wall behind him. Drag him outside, Tristan said with an even voice. More hands nabbed me, but I didnt fight back. Thatd be an even bigger mistake.New novel chapters are published on