Tactical Command Center – 15km from the Gathering Point
Inside a dimly lit command post, the air was thick with tension. A large map of Metropore covered the central table, marked with key locations, escape routes, and high-risk zones. Radio units crackled with updates from officers stationed across the city.
Joseph Fernandez stood at the front, his expression unreadable, his presence commanding.
This wasn't just another operation.
This was a battlefield waiting to ignite.
His gaze swept over the officers in the room before he spoke.
"Listen up. The objective is simple—do not obstruct Gang Nagas's gathering today."
A ripple of confusion spread across the room. Some officers exchanged uneasy glances, while others stiffened, waiting for an explanation.
Joseph continued, his voice cutting through the uncertainty like a blade.
"There will be no roadblocks before 7 p.m. No patrol units are to intervene. No checkpoints. No unnecessary stops. If you see them moving, let them."
A younger officer, unable to contain himself, spoke up. "Sir, shouldn't we be stopping them before they organize?"
Joseph's eyes snapped toward him. "No." His tone was final. "We want them in one place. We want them gathered. We want them to believe they have the upper hand."
Silence.
Then, a slow realization settled over the room.
Joseph moved closer to the table, his fingers tapping lightly against the surface.
"The real operation begins after they've gathered. Until then, let them feel untouchable."
Still, tension lingered in the air.
He shifted his attention to Deputy Superintendent Amir, his second-in-command.
"What's the status of my ERU request?"
Amir straightened. "The Emergency Reserve Unit is on standby. We've assembled 500 officers, positioned at key zones, awaiting your command."
The ERU—Walaysia's riot control and rapid response force—was a powerful unit, but even they would face challenges if tonight escalated into full-scale urban warfare.
Joseph gave a curt nod. "Good."
"Medical response teams?"
"Also on standby. Paramedics are stationed at strategic points. If things go south, they can be deployed immediately."
Joseph exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around the edge of the table.
Everything was going exactly as he had planned.
Except… it wasn't his plan at all.
Athavan had seen this outcome long before Joseph had.
"Damn you, Athavan… What Exactly he is planning?"
Joseph felt like a pawn in someone else's game.
And yet, here he was, moving the pieces.
Abandoned Warehouse – Secret Meeting Location
A massive, abandoned warehouse loomed in the middle of an industrial wasteland. Its rusted walls hid the most dangerous gathering in Walaysia's criminal history.
Inside, 30 of the highest-ranking leaders of Gang Nages sat around a long table, their expressions grim and deadly.
Outside, thousands of their foot soldiers gathered—loyal enforcers, street captains, and hitmen who had answered the call of their leaders.
Despite being wanted criminals, they had no hesitation in showing up.
Some flipped knives open and shut, the steel glinting under the warehouse lights. Others ran their fingers along heavy chains, testing their weight. A few leaned against cars, hidden shotguns tucked beneath their jackets.
The air stank of sweat, cigarettes, and paranoia.
This wasn't just a meeting.
This was war.
Inside the Warehouse
The 30 high-ranking leaders sat on metal chairs, their fingers decorated with gold rings, thick gold chains hanging from their necks.
They weren't just gangsters.
They were business owners, club owners, politicians' secret funders, and black-market brokers.
Every single one of them had a case file in law enforcement—some dating back over two decades.
They should have been rotting in prison.
Instead, they were here—untouchable, arrogant, powerful.
But tonight, something was different.
For the first time, fear was creeping into their world.
They had survived police raids, government crackdowns, and rival gang wars before…
But this time, they weren't just up against the law.
This time, they were up against something they didn't understand.
And the one man who could fix this wasn't here yet.
"Where the hell is the head?" someone growled, slamming his fist onto the table.
"On his way," another replied, adjusting his Rolex watch.
A deep, rough voice spoke from the far end of the table.
Epoh Kumar.
One of the longest-serving high-rankers. A legend in the underworld.
His scarred hands rested on the table as his cold eyes scanned the room, lingering on the younger leaders, the hot-headed ones too eager for blood.
"You think Raja Sekaran's arrest is just bad luck?" he muttered. "Someone orchestrated this. Someone wanted him out of the picture."
Silence.
Even the most arrogant of them knew the truth.
Raja Sekaran wasn't a small-time operator.
He was their bank card, their money launderer, their lifeline.
And yet, overnight—he had been exposed, arrested, and cut off.
Someone had moved against him.
And that meant they were next.
Outside – The Roaring Beasts
While the leaders debated inside, the underlings outside were growing restless.
Murmurs filled the air.
"I don't like this… feels like a damn setup."
"They should have killed that cop the second Raja Sekaran got arrested."
"No matter who comes today, I'm cutting them into pieces."
For years, they had lived without fear, knowing their empire was too big to fall.
But now…
The first cracks had appeared.
And when an empire starts to crack, there are only two choices:
Kill the ones responsible.
Or become the next victims.
The Arrival of Rajendran Bala
Suddenly—
The roar of a helicopter tore through the night.
The underlings instinctively looked up, their hands tightening on weapons.
A black helicopter descended onto the warehouse rooftop.
The moment the rotors slowed, 20 men moved into position.
They weren't like the thugs outside.
They were trained, disciplined, and precise.
This wasn't just security.
This was a private army.
The warehouse doors swung open.
Rajendran Bala walked in.
He didn't ask for silence.
He didn't need to.
The moment he stepped inside, the murmur of voices died on its own.
Thirty of Walaysia's most dangerous criminals stood stiff, their previous bravado melting into quiet obedience.
Rajendran took his seat, casually swirling the whiskey in his glass.
He let the silence stretch.
Let them anticipate what was coming.
Then, finally—he smirked.
"I have good news and bad news."
No one spoke.
He took another sip.
"Which one do you want first?"
Silence.
Then—
"Tell us the bad news first."
Rajendran's smirk widened.
"Are you sure?"
The room felt colder.
Something big was coming.
And none of them were ready for it.