Meanwhile in Astoria, Gustavo shuffled through the bustling city streets, his ears assaulted by overlapping noises.A couple bickered as they pushed past him. "You never listen to me!" the woman snapped. "I told you to turn left at the statue of the pigeon!"

"There is no statue of a pigeon!" the man retorted.

Gustavo's eyes narrowed as they drifted over the crowd, dark thoughts swirling in his mind. 'The people here never stay silent,' he mused, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. 'I wish I could just strangle all of them and enjoy a minute of silence.'

As he walking, a teenager walked past him with her mom, "Ugh, Mom! You bought me the wrong shade of black nail polish! My life is literally over!"

'Everybody here is just annoying.'

Gustavo turned the corner, leaving the noise of the city behind.

As he approached the Brotherhood's meeting room, an eerie silence fell over him. He knew what this meant - Xylar was holding court.

Careful not to make a sound, Gustavo slipped inside. Xylar's gravelly voice filled the room:

"Listen up, you mooks. We aren't in this game for the glamour. We're here to do the dirty work that keeps this city's gears greased.

Yeah, it's hard. Yeah, it's messy. But let me tell you something - soft money doesn't come from soft work. We're the calluses on this city's hands, and don't you forget it...."

As if on cue, Gustavo's foot scuffed the floor. The sound, barely audible, might as well have been a thunderclap.

Every head in the room swiveled towards him. Xylar fell silent, his piercing gaze fixed on the newcomer.

Gustavo felt the weight of dozens of eyes upon him as he made his way across the room. Xylar sat there, draped in black.

His cargo jean shirt and trousers seemed to absorb what little light there was in the room. In one hand, he held his signature stick, its ember glowing defiantly in the gloom.

Approaching Xylar, Gustavo bent low in a gesture of respect. "Xylar the Soulless," he murmured, his eyes downcast.

Xylar said nothing. He simply stared, smoke curling lazily from his ever-present stick.

The silence stretched on, thick and oppressive. Gustavo remained bowed, feeling the boss's eyes boring into him, waiting for whatever came next.

Xylar's lips curled into a sneer, his voice dripping with contempt. "Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. I was starting to think you'd forgotten about us, Gustavo. Or maybe you just found a better offer elsewhere, hm?"

Gustavo, still bowing, shook his head. "No, boss. I've just been—"

"Busy?" Xylar cut him off, his tone sharp as a blade. "Oh, I'm sure. Must be exhausting, licking the nobles shoes. Tell me, what's been keeping you so occupied? Sightseeing? Running errands?"

Gustavo swallowed hard. "There's... there's been a lot to handle lately, boss. I—"

"Spare me the excuses," Xylar spat, taking a long drag from his stick. He blew the smoke directly at Gustavo's bowed head.

"So, what brings you crawling back? Finally ready to make good on your promises, or are you just here to waste more of my precious time?"

Gustavo opened his mouth to reply, but instead of words, a violent fit of coughing erupted from his throat. He struggled to regain his composure, his body shaking with each hack.

Xylar watched impassively, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue... or just your lungs?"

Between coughs, Gustavo managed to choke out, "Yes... I'm ready."

"Oh?" Xylar leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Do tell."

Gustavo took a shuddering breath. "I need... the fifty men. The ones you promised. Ready by evening... at the riverside."

Xylar leaned back, taking another long drag. He let the silence stretch, enjoying Gustavo's discomfort.

Xylar's cruel smile widened as he turned to the assembled group. His eyes scanned the crowd before settling on a particular figure.

"Mordred!" he barked. "Front and center!"

A tall, slim man with black dreadlocks stepped forward from the group. He moved with a predator's grace, coming to stand beside Gustavo and bowing low before Xylar.

"Xylar the Soulless!" Mordred's voice was soft but carried an undercurrent of steel.

Xylar nodded, his gaze flicking between Mordred and Gustavo. "Our friend here needs some muscle. You're going to give it to him." He paused to take another drag from his stick.

"Pick 49 of our finest. I want you to lead them, get them ready and at the riverside by evening. You'll be joining Gustavo here on a little... manhunt."

Xylar continued, his voice growing harder. "There's a huge bounty involved. I expect results. Don't disappoint me."

"Understood, boss," Mordred replied, straightening up. S~eaʀᴄh the Nôvel(F)ire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"Good," Xylar grunted. "Now get to it. I'm sure Gustavo here is eager to share the details of this... venture."

Mordred nodded curtly, then turned to face the crowd. He reached up, absently adjusting his dreadlocks as his eyes swept over the assembled men. His voice rang out, clear and commanding:

"Alright, you heard the boss. We've got work to do. I need 49 of you ready for action. If I call your name, step forward."

As Mordred began his selection process, the room filled with a tense energy. Men shifted nervously, some eager to be chosen, others hoping to avoid whatever dangerous task lay ahead.

As Mordred's voice echoed through the room, calling out names, Xylar beckoned Gustavo closer with a crooked finger. "Stand up and come here," he commanded, his voice low and gravelly.

Gustavo hesitated for a moment before complying, his legs feeling like lead as he approached the imposing figure.

Xylar's eyes gleamed with a predatory light. "So, where's our dear Matilda hiding, hm? I want to know where my men are headed." He tapped his ear with a thin finger. "Whisper it to me. Don't want to spoil the surprise for everyone else, do we?"

Gustavo felt his heart rate spike. His mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other in a frantic internal monologue:

'I can't trust him. This is Xylar we're talking about. What if he just decides to off me once he gets the info? He's got the numbers, the men. I'd be expendable. But if I don't tell him...

look at that face. Blank as a slate, but I know that mind of his is churning. There's something evil brewing behind those eyes. I've seen that look before.'

He swallowed hard, continuing his silent debate:

'Twenty thousand Thalens. That's what we're dealing with here. An amount like that... it'd tempt a saint, let alone someone as greedy as Xylar. He could easily decide to cut me out, take it all for himself. Well, let's see how it goes.'

Gustavo stared into Xylar's impassive eyes, searching for any hint of the man's true intentions. Finding nothing but his own reflection in those dark pools, he made his decision.

Leaning in close, his lips nearly brushing Xylar's ear, Gustavo whispered something. The words were too low for anyone else to hear, lost in the continued roll call of Mordred's selections.

As Gustavo's whispered words reached Xylar's ears, the crime lord's face transformed. His eyes widened, and for a brief moment, genuine surprise flickered across his features.

"Are you sure?" Xylar asked, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Gustavo nodded firmly. "Yes."

A slow, wicked grin spread across Xylar's face. "No risk, no reward. I like that." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. "Just make it back fast as soon as you get the bounty. No rough plays, understood?"

Gustavo nodded again, relief washing over him.

By this time, Mordred had finished calling out names. The selected men stood apart from the rest, a formidable group of 50 hardened individuals.

Xylar gestured towards them. "Take a good look, Gustavo. These are the faces that'll be watching your back on this mission. Don't forget them." His tone carried a clear warning. "They'll be at the riverside by evening, as promised. Now get out of here."

Gustavo didn't need to be told twice. He turned and walked away, his mind racing with doubts and second-guesses. The weight of his decision pressed down on him with each step.

As he emerged from the Brotherhood's den and back into the noisy city streets, Gustavo muttered to himself, "I need to be careful here."

He said as he turned to see their hideout once again. "I don't want any of them catching onto what I have already planned. No mistakes... the hunt has begun."