The night on Greyscale Island was particularly quiet, but beneath that tranquility, dark currents stirred.
Barron stood atop a low wooden building, overlooking the harbor below.
In the distance, flickering torchlight illuminated the docks, ships rocked gently in the tide, and shadows moved as guards patrolled back and forth.
Behind him, Kane leaned casually against a wooden pillar, his voice low.
"That group over there is a small-time smuggling ring. Their leader's name is Hall—one of the many victims paying protection fees to Rugo. But he doesn't trust outsiders, not even a little."
Barron gave a slight nod, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
"He doesn't need to trust us. He just needs to be angry." His voice was low, edged with a cold, cutting chill.
Kane raised an eyebrow, still harboring doubts about Barron's plan.
"Hall's just a small-time smuggler. What does he have that could take on Rugo's forces? And if Rugo finds out we're stirring things up from the shadows, he might just come clean us up himself."
Barron finally turned, his eyes sharp as blades.
"We're not going to push them into a direct fight. Hall is just a piece on the board—a spark to light the powder. As for the real battle... I'll lead that."
Kane gave a bitter smile and shrugged.
"Alright then. But how are you going to get Hall to make a move? He's not exactly easy to provoke."
Barron's lips curved into a cold smile.
"Let him watch his bottom line get crushed. Rage will force his hand."
The next morning, Barron had Kane secretly approach Hall's men, disguised as a common information broker.
He loitered near a tavern where the smugglers frequently gathered, mingling with the crowd during a particularly busy hour, casually dropping hints.
"Did you hear? Rugo's got his eye on Hall's smuggling routes," Kane said, his tone low but clear enough to draw attention.
Several of Hall's men who were drinking nearby immediately perked up. One of them couldn't help but interject.
"What did you say? Rugo wants Hall's routes? On what grounds?"
Kane shrugged, feigning ignorance.
"Just a rumor, that's all. But the guards near the port have been working overtime lately. Might be that they're tightening patrols, maybe even targeting Hall."
The smugglers exchanged serious looks, lowering their voices as they began to discuss among themselves. Kane, pretending to finish his drink, quietly slipped away.
At the same time, Barron was busy planting forged letters within Rugo's territory.
The documents suggested that Hall's men were plotting an attack against Rugo's assets—complete with detailed patrol schedules and warehouse supply layouts.
Unsurprisingly, Rugo's men quickly discovered them and presented the evidence to their boss.
Though cunning, Rugo was extremely sensitive to threats in his domain. He immediately ordered increased surveillance on Hall's warehouses and dispatched a squad to carry out a "surprise inspection."
Three days later, outside Hall's warehouse, dozens of Rugo's men showed up in force. Armed and aggressive, they stormed the building without a word, seizing crates and supplies.
By the time Hall and his men arrived, a third of their cargo had already been loaded onto Rugo's ships. Hall's face turned ashen as he stared down the lead guard.
"What the hell is this? That's our cargo!" Hall shouted, gritting his teeth.
The head guard sneered, his voice laced with disdain.
"Protection tax, got it? Boss Rugo says everyone's got to pay a share. That's how things work now."
Hall's crew burned with fury, but they were outnumbered and outgunned. Acting rashly would only spell disaster.
"Protection tax? That's new to me," Hall said coldly.
The guard laughed and waved dismissively.
"Rules are whatever Rugo says they are. You've got a problem, take it up with him. But for now, shut your mouth, or next time we won't just take your goods."
The guards laughed boisterously as they loaded the last crate and sailed off, leaving chaos behind.
Hall stood frozen at the warehouse entrance, fists clenched, barely containing his rage. His deputy stood beside him, face equally grim.
"Boss, they've gone too far. At this rate, we'll be crushed."
Hall said nothing. His chest heaved as he struggled to control his fury. Then, from the shadows, a deep voice echoed.
"Rugo won't stop here. Today he took your goods. Tomorrow, he'll take your life."
Hall spun around, eyes narrowing at the cloaked figure stepping out from the darkness. It was Barron.
"Who the hell are you?" Hall asked warily.
Barron raised his hands slowly in a gesture of peace, "Just someone who sees things clearly. You know as well as I do—Rugo's hunger knows no bounds."
Hall's glare remained sharp, but his mind was already working.
"What are you trying to say?"
Barron stepped closer, his tone calm yet heavy with pressure.
"How many people on this island suffer under Rugo's boot? Smugglers, merchants, even the so-called neutral parties. They all hate him. But they need a spark to ignite the fire. That spark could be you."
Hall stood silently, golden short hair matted with sweat. His sharp eyes flickered with calculation.
A shallow scar crossed his nose, adding a touch of wildness to his rugged charm. Though short in stature, his arms were strong and his hands nimble, a short dagger always ready.
His worn leather coat did little to hide the dangerous agility in his movements.
He hesitated, emotions swirling in his eyes.
"Even if I wanted to fight back, my crew alone isn't enough."
Barron's eyes gleamed.
"You won't be alone. If you step forward, I'll bring you allies."
Hall stared at him for a long moment, then finally nodded, "Fine. But if you're lying to me, I'll make you regret it."
Barron smirked and turned away.
That night, Barron had Kane spread word—carefully, subtly—that Hall was preparing to strike back. The message was cloaked in ambiguity, but just provocative enough to draw attention.
Other dissatisfied factions on the island began to whisper. Some smugglers and merchants quietly pulled away from dealings with Rugo's men.
The next morning, Hall's forces clashed with one of Rugo's patrols at the docks. Gunfire and shouting echoed through the harbor. The skirmish was brief, but the entire island heard of it by midday.
Days later, Barron met with Hall again. This time, Hall's demeanor was more resolute. His men stood straighter, their morale visibly rising.
"Your plan worked. Rugo's panicking. But what now? What's the next step?"
Barron spoke slowly.
"Next, we cut off his resources. Isolate him. Once he's cornered, we strike."
Hall nodded, eyes burning with anticipation.
"Then let's do it your way."