I Am the Devil of This Hell

Chapter 038

Kane Adler nodded, a slow, deliberate movement that conveyed satisfaction. He turned his gaze toward the map table, where the dim overhead light cast long shadows across the paper.

"First order of business," Kane said, his voice cutting through the humid, metallic air of the Abandoned Paper Mill. "Jackson, give us the lay of the land. Break down the current power structure of Larkspur for the class."

Jackson Hayes cleared his throat, the sound echoing slightly in the cavernous space. He didn't need to look at his notes; the intelligence was already burned into his mind. He stepped forward, placing a heavy hand on the sprawling map of the city.

"Listen up," Jackson began, his tone shifting into the professional cadence of a military briefing. "Let me introduce you to the battlefield. Larkspur isn't the capital of Hawthorne State, but make no mistake—it’s the economic engine. It’s the largest metropolis in the state and, more importantly for us, it’s the heart of the criminal underworld in the entire northern region. The corruption here isn't a bug; it's a feature. The underworld is rampant, entrenched, and wealthy. Our entry point is high stakes, but for a unit like ours? It’s just another Tuesday."

He traced a line across the map with a calloused finger. "We have the skills. Once we seize control of this city, we use it as a forward operating base. A grindstone to sharpen our blade before we launch a full-scale campaign to conquer the entire underworld of Hawthorne State."

Jackson paused, letting the ambition of the plan settle over the men.

"Over the last ten days, the Shadow Division has dissected this city. We know who sleeps where, who pays who, and where the bodies are buried. The power structure is a tripod. There are three dominant superpowers in Larkspur."

He pointed to three distinct zones on the map.

"First, The Five Kings. Second, The Brotherhood. And third, The Warlords. Each of these organizations boasts a standing army of roughly two thousand five hundred men. They have carved the city up like a Thanksgiving turkey. The Brotherhood controls the Central District—the downtown core, the financial hubs. They are the strongest, the best funded, and the most politically connected. The Warlords hold the Northern District, relying on brute force. The Five Kings control the Southern District. Beneath these three giants, there’s a whole ecosystem of parasites—dozens of smaller gangs that survive by kicking up tribute to the big three. We’ve counted four mid-sized gangs with membership around seven or eight hundred, six gangs with maybe five hundred, and twenty-seven bottom-feeders with around a hundred thugs each."

Jackson looked up, meeting the eyes of the men around the table. "This tells us one thing: the underworld here is dense. It’s a crowded ecosystem. And every single one of them is in bed with the Larkspur city government. It’s a web of mutual benefit. If we push too hard without a strategy, we don't just fight gangsters; we fight the police, the courts, and the politicians."

He tapped a specific circle in the Southern District.

"Now, for our primary target. Iron Crest. This is the outfit run by Victor Hale, the man responsible for Kane's imprisonment. They operate out of the South. They are ranked fifth in the district, with about two hundred soldiers on the payroll. Their revenue streams are two large nightclubs and a high-end bar."

Rex Dalton, the Mad Tiger, licked his dry lips. A feral grin split his face, revealing teeth that seemed too sharp for a human. "Two hundred men? That's it?" He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "We have seventy-six Talons here. That’s barely three kills per person. This isn't a war; it's a warmup. Too easy."

Ethan Skyler stood nearby, his face a mask of icy indifference. But at the mention of the target, a cruel, bloodthirsty smile touched his lips.

"Kane," Ethan said, his voice devoid of warmth. "For this operation, I propose a scorched-earth policy. No survivors. Total annihilation. The Shadow Eagle Clan is making its debut in Larkspur. We don't need negotiations; we need a reputation. In this industry, fear is the only currency that matters. Violence is the language they understand. If we strike with absolute brutality now, we paralyze the opposition. Once the blood dries, we won't need to fight for recruits; the terrifying legend of the Shadow Eagle Clan will draw the ruthless and the ambitious to our banner. We have eighty brothers, but we can't be everywhere at once. We are elite shock troops, not street patrols. We shouldn't be wasting our time swatting flies."

Rex Dalton slammed a heavy hand onto Ethan's shoulder, laughing loudly. "Hahaha! Finally! Ethan, you finally said something I agree with! We aren't here to wrestle with street punks. We are here to dominate. I love it!"

Kane Adler watched the exchange, the corner of his mouth hooking upward. The morale was high. The killers were hungry.

"Well said," Kane agreed. "Today is the first true gathering of our eighty brothers. Nathan Black, Nate, and the others are holding down the fort back at the base, but we have to perform. I want ideas. Don't be afraid to speak up. I’d rather hear a bad idea than silence."

Marcus Grady, the 'Fox', rubbed the tip of his nose—a nervous habit that hid a calculating mind. "Heh. Kane, to be honest, two hundred guys against us? It’s a joke. If we all go in, it’ll be over in ten minutes. My suggestion? We don't just stop at Iron Crest. Once we crush them, we pivot and crush another g**g immediately. Double tap. We need a grand entrance. We need to shock the system so hard that the other gangs are too terrified to move against us while we consolidate."

Owen Steele, known as One, nodded in agreement. "I’m with Marcus. We need to establish dominance immediately. However, we have to be smart. The underworld here has reached a state of equilibrium. The big gangs have treaties, alliances, and non-aggression pacts. If we hit Iron Crest, we might trigger a defensive coalition. My view: we wipe out Iron Crest, and then we surgically remove one more specific target. We keep it contained to the South District to avoid a city-wide mobilization against us before we're ready."

"Agreed," Kane said. "Anyone else?"

Ford Slater, looking for all the world like a teenager who should be in high school rather than planning m*********r, turned his innocent, wide eyes toward Jackson Hayes.

"Shadow Division," Ford asked, his voice high and clear. "Do you have intel on alliances? Who is Victor Hale sleeping with? Who are his friends?"

"We do," Jackson replied instantly. "Victor Hale is a greedy, lecherous scumbag. He doesn't have many real friends because he’s untrustworthy. But there is an exception. He has a very close relationship with Lucas Bright—wait, sorry, wrong file—he’s close with the leader of The Syndicate, a man named Hector Quinn. They call each other brothers. Even when Kane took Victor Hale down years ago, Hector Quinn helped keep the remnants of Iron Crest afloat."

Ford Slater narrowed his eyes. "And what about The Syndicate? How strong are they? Who backs them?"

"The Syndicate is the fourth largest g**g in the South. Slightly stronger than Iron Crest. They have allies, mostly drinking buddies, nothing solid. However... there are rumors. Unconfirmed, but persistent. Hector Quinn might have a backchannel to one of the five leaders of The Five Kings. But here’s the interesting part: The Five Kings aren't as united as they look. Ten years of peace and luxury have made them paranoid. There are cracks in their alliance."

Ford Slater, despite his diminutive five-foot stature and child-like face, let out a cold, chilling laugh. The intelligence in his eyes was sharp enough to cut glass.

"That's it then," Ford said, looking at Kane. "We hit The Syndicate. It doesn't matter if the rumor is true. If we crush Hector Quinn, and he is connected to one of the Kings, that King takes a hit to his prestige and income. The other four Kings, who are already at odds with him, won't rush to help; they'll use the opportunity to attack their rival within the alliance. We create chaos. We trigger a civil war inside The Five Kings. Why wouldn't we do that?"

Kane Adler beamed. This was why he had gathered these men. They were the elite of the Confinement Death Ward—monsters, yes, but geniuses too.

"Excellent analysis, Ford," Kane praised. "Very sharp. Dixon, what’s your take?"

Dixon Jace, the man with the face of a corpse and the mind of a sadist, offered a dark, cynical smile.

"I agree with Ford on the targets," Dixon said smoothly. "But my focus is on the methodology. I agree with Kane's philosophy."

Kane’s eyes flashed with interest. "Oh? And you know what that philosophy is?"

"Money," Dixon said, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. "Kane has always emphasized that we cannot fight the state machine head-on. We are gangsters. We exist in the shadows. If the government decides to crush us, we die. The only way to survive is to become a parasite on the beast. We need to intertwine ourselves with the political structure so tightly that cutting us out would kill the host. And the only way to do that is with gold. We have capital. We have hundreds of millions. That kind of money can buy a lot of friends in Hawthorne State. The police chiefs, the judges, the bureaucrats—they are already corrupt. We just need to pay them more than anyone else. A few well-placed sugar-coated bullets, and they will lie down for us."

"Hahaha!" Kane laughed heartily, clapping his hands. "You know me well, Dixon. Very well indeed."

He looked around at his inner circle. Strategists, warriors, executioners. He lacked nothing. Fate was truly smiling upon the Shadow Eagle Clan.

"No more delays," Kane announced, his voice hardening into command. "We move tonight. The targets are the three nightclubs owned by Iron Crest. The Hades Crew and The Mad Tiger Crew will take one each. The Execution Unit and Shadow Division will provide support. I will lead the Talons to take the third. Rex, Ethan, are we clear?"

"Loud and clear, Kane!" they roared.

"I will distribute the specific tactical plans before deployment," Kane said. "Go. Get your men ready. Have a drink, loosen up. I have an errand to run. I need to go recruit us some... external support."