Chapter 9: Do It All The Time
I skipped school the next day because turning up bruised as hell after a week of not being there was a quick trip to having more shit shoveled on my plate. Ma banged on my door and yelled at me to go anyway. So, I lied and said I was sick. If she werent running late, Id have been much worse off, but she settled for one more shout and an empty threat before leaving. Fortunate, since I really didnt want her to see me.
Took all morning to finally drag myself out of bed, but I did it. Good for me. A nice long look at my face in a mirror told me it was pointless to fix up my hair for the day. Split skin, two black eyes. Fucking monstrous. Romeo didnt screw around or take pity. I was a pained man with unfortunate commitments, but at least I had good humor. Things didn't stand a chance of getting much worse.
I ate some cheap cereal with water, alone in the house. Threw on my Brass Kings jacket, then dipped out; without anywhere else to go I decided to loiter near a local mart a couple of blocks down the road. I sent off my text to Tristan before noon. Maybe something would break my bad streak of luck.
He didnt reply. Prick. So, I decided to screw around inside of the mart, smoking and scrolling my phone. A singular mass of aches and pain.
The roar of a motorcycle tore my attention from an article about the upcoming Lantern Festival. I looked up, catching the eyes of the nervous shopkeeper whod been working up the nerve to ask me if I planned to buy something or not. I stuffed my hands in my jeans, strolling out the door to see a slick two-seater with gorgeous chrome trim. A big-nosed man with cropped blond hair chuckled at me. Fall down some stairs? Hahahahaha!
I gave him a nasty look that said well fuck you too. Then caught a seven decal on the back of the slick black bike. I squinted at him. The dude was massive, and certainly someone Id have noticed in the Fourth Division, let alone our squad. Hey, you aint in part of our divisionNew novel chapters are published on
He wiped a tear from his eye. Nope! Im Bruno! Glorious pride of the Seventh Division, no one can match my might! He stood up from the bike, stretching out to what must have been a six-foot-five frame, with wide shoulders, and bulging arms. This guy could get hit by a truck, and walk away just fine. Who gave you the bruises!? Emerald Serpents? Crimson Eagles? Ooooohone of the sects?! Oh, I love brawling a good heir! The guy seemed to gush joy and curiosity, especially when he started talking about fighting a sect.
Are ya nuts? I pointed to my black eyes. Messing around with the sects? Listen. This is what happens when ya fuck with people ya shouldnt. Learned my lesson. I also wasnt about to tell this jackass I got messed up by my own Uncle. Nor mention anything about pissing off the Segreto Family. If anyone in the Brass Kings found out about that, Id be in deep shit.
The best way to grow is to throw yourself at stronger enemies until you conquer them and cover the street in their plentiful and majestic blood! Just thinking of such a fight gets me worked up! That smile. This guy was cracked in the head.
Alright then. Tristan sent ya? He didnt even spare someone from our own squad, what a prick.
Oh? Oh yeah! Sure did! Hop on, a lot to do today! Many people to punch!
Both the Second Division Captaina chubby man with shaved hair, Id had a couple of run-ins with himand the Seventh Division Captain both looked rather severe.
I was curious to get a good look at the Seventh Division Captain for the first time, the ringleader of the misfits. She was lean, and tall, and gave off an odd regal attitude that struck me wrong. For all the stories of her divisions fuck ups, Id thought shed be a nervous wreck to be a part of whatever this was.
After all, if the Viceroy got involved, major shit was going down.
Me and Bruno split and headed off to our divisions. I caught sight of Tristan, he was with the rest of our squad. Nobody offered a greeting. Tristan took one look at me, let out a little laugh, then shook his head and checked his watch. A few more people filtered in.
Quiet! the chubby Second Division Captain yelled out a few minutes later, face turning red. He slammed a fist into the shipping container.
At that note, and on his orders, people lowered their volume. He gave a quick salute to the Viceroy.
She cleared her throat, back straight and an angry light burned in her eyes. You will all follow your captains orders to the letter. We will be invading the Crimson Eagles turf. You might ask why that is. Why the sudden aggression? Theyve been pushing into Uptown for the last month! If thats not enough reason for you, just a few days ago they stalked the First Division Captain, ambushed him outside of a bar, and ripped his eye out! her voice carried a raw heat. A pure expression of utter hate and war. Her pure killing intent ran through the group in a wave. We do not stand for that! We are the Brass Kings! When they take an eye, we take an arm! When they take an arm, we take their legs! When they take our legs, we take their head!
I balled my fists. Id had a shit week. These assholes were going around fucking around with our gang? Fine. Working my tension out on some punks seemed just fine to me.
You will follow your lieutenants. They will follow their captains. My gaze is everywhere, any failures I will personally see punished. If you exceed my expectations, you will be rewarded. She looked around the ragtag delinquent gang.
A few stood straighter, ambitious, or afraid to risk the womans direct ire. I didn't care about a reward. It seemed like the perfect way to blow off some steam, which after last night, I welcomed with open arms.
Captains, you have your instructions.
She nodded, before leaping off the shipping crate in a graceful arc. Captain Baldy gave a fake smile, then launched into a shout. Whereas Captain Till simply raised four fingers into the air and calmly began to walk out of the warehouse. Come on! Tristan shoved me forward.