The morning air still carried the weight of night's shadow.
Though the bloody "warning" at Rugo Square had cowed some of the men, it had sown far more fear and unrest across the harbor.
Suppressed voices had begun to rise from the shadows, and the scales of loyalty had already begun to tilt within certain hearts.
Barron stood atop a crumbling clock tower, looking out across the port. Through the morning mist, he could see Rugo's guards making their rounds—but their movements lacked the discipline and drive they once had.
Kane emerged from the staircase below, a rolled piece of paper in hand.
"The report's in," Kane murmured, handing the paper to Barron.
Barron unrolled it and scanned the contents swiftly. His gaze deepened.
"What does it say?" he asked.
"Three units under Rugo's command have started to waver," Kane replied.
"Some have been secretly approaching merchants, trying to extort extra protection money. Others are planning to flee the island altogether. And one patrol has started deliberately avoiding high-risk zones."
Barron gave a slow nod, the corners of his lips curling into a faint, cold smile.
"Cracks in the foundation—sooner than I expected," he said, not bothering to hide the satisfaction in his tone.
Kane raised an eyebrow.
"So, what now? Do we reach out to them? Or keep turning up the pressure?"
Barron rolled the paper up and set it aside.
"We can't reveal our true hand just yet, Kane," he said. "But these men could be the levers we use to uproot Rugo's regime."
He turned to Kane, his eyes sharp as blades.
"Find the captains of these squads. Offer them a choice—either stay under Rugo's heel, or join us and step into a new future."
Kane allowed himself a small smirk.
"Tempting. But what if they say no?"
Barron let out a low, bitter laugh.
"Then let them become Rugo's next problem."
.......
Meanwhile, tension choked the air inside Rugo's headquarters. No one dared to breathe too loudly.
Rugo stood at a massive wooden table, a map of Greyscale Island spread before him. His finger slowly traced over the port. Beside him, his second-in-command stared at the floor, sweat dripping from his chin.
"The warehouse is gone. The ledgers from the money hub—missing. Even the patrols are falling apart," Rugo growled. His voice was low, but it rolled like thunder in the hearts of those present.
The lieutenant hesitated, then spoke:
"Boss, we've started doubling the patrols and—"
He didn't get to finish. Rugo lashed out, knocking over the lamp on the table. Flames leapt up, licking the corner of the map.
"Doubling patrols? Then why the hell is this still happening?!" Rugo roared, eyes blazing as they locked on his trembling second.
The man opened his mouth but couldn't speak.
Rugo snarled and turned toward the row of guard captains standing silently nearby.
"And you? You pathetic lot—what do you have to say for yourselves?"
One of the captains finally stepped forward, his voice low and strained.
"Boss, the men… they're not doing well lately. Their morale is—"
"What about it?" Rugo snapped, teeth clenched.
The captain hesitated, then forced the words out.
"They think… we're losing our grip on the Island. Some of them are beginning to lose faith."
A thick silence fell over the room.
Rugo stared at the captain, unmoving. Then, slowly, he stepped toward the table and picked up his gold-inlaid scimitar.
"Faith?" he said, voice cold as frost.
The captain bowed his head, unable to meet his gaze.
Then Rugo began to laugh. A hard, violent laugh, crackling with rage.
"Looks like it's time to remind you all what loyalty means."
He slashed the blade forward—burying it in the captain's shoulder. The man let out a strangled cry and dropped to his knees.
"Get this trash out of here," Rugo said icily. "And let everyone know—anyone who questions my rule will suffer far worse."
.......
Hours later, in a hidden warehouse on Greyscale Island, Barron and Kane sat across from two key members of Rugo's forces.
One was the very captain Rugo had wounded. His shoulder was tightly wrapped in rough bandages, his face pale, but his eyes burned with fury.
The other was a patrol leader Rugo had recently suspected. His expression was wary, clearly uncertain about the meeting.
Barron sat in a splintered wooden chair, his gaze calm as he looked them over.
"I believe you both know exactly how Rugo treats his own," he said flatly, without a hint of emotion.
The injured captain's voice shook with barely contained rage.
"That madman! He suspected me? After everything I did to protect his holdings—he just—!"
Barron raised a hand, silencing him.
"You want revenge?"
The man froze. Then, slowly, he raised his head, a flicker of fire returning to his eyes.
"If I ever get the chance… I'll make him regret it."
Barron nodded, then turned to the patrol leader.
"And what about you? Are you going to keep serving him until you're the next to be dragged into the square?"
The man was silent for a long time. Then, finally, he spoke.
"What do you want me to do?"
Barron offered a faint smile.
"No need for open rebellion—yet. For now, your task is simple: pass us Rugo's defensive intel. Your people will be protected. And Rugo's reign… will soon come to an end."
The two men exchanged a glance. Then, slowly, they both nodded.
Barron stood, voice resolute.
"Loyalty isn't about dying for a tyrant—it's about choosing the future that deserves your devotion. Welcome aboard."
After the two had left, Kane watched their backs with a frown.
"They seem to hate Rugo enough. But do you really trust them?"
Barron let out a cold chuckle, turning toward the back of the warehouse, where stacks of documents and reports on Rugo's network lay waiting.
"Trust? That's not necessary," he said, his tone frigid. "As long as their hatred is real, they'll be the sharpest weapons we have. Trust comes after the war is won."
Kane raised an eyebrow, then gave a helpless smile.
"I think I finally get why Rugo fears you."
Barron looked out the window toward the harbor, eyes as deep as the sea.
"Fear? No… what Rugo fears is losing everything. And I'm going to make sure that fear comes true."