Nailah pushed open the door to the hideout, leading Tommy and Olivia inside. The dimly lit space was filled with the scent of old wood and sweat, a stark contrast to the bustling streets outside.

  Inside, Yasuke was mid-workout, punching out push-ups like a machine.

  Tommy’s jaw dropped. “Wait… isn’t that the Mad Dawg!?”

  Yasuke glanced up, holding his plank. “Kids?” he muttered, squinting.

  Then he stood, slinging a towel over his shoulder, muscles gleaming. A smirk formed—just in time for Nailah to scowl.

  “I didn’t know you had kids, Nailah,” Yasuke said with mock innocence. “Should I be calling you ‘Mom’ now?”

  Her eye twitched. “How old do you think I am!?”

  Tommy didn’t hear any of it. He was practically vibrating. “You’re really Yasuke the Mad Dawg!? The one who never paid the right to live?! The guy Damon tried to crush with a hit squad—but you crushed them instead?! They say Damon still twitches when he hears your name!”

  Yasuke shrugged, wiping his armpit without breaking eye contact. “They were soft.”

  Tommy gasped. “You’re so cool!”

  Nailah recoiled. “You’re fanboying while he’s airing out his armpits!?”

  Olivia just shook her head. “Let’s keep our expectations reasonable.”

  “Come on,” Nailah muttered, motioning them forward. “Let me show you the others.”

  Tommy was practically skipping. “If you’ve got the Mad Dawg on your team, the rest must be legends too!”

  That optimism died the moment they walked into the next room.

  Kenny was sprawled on a ragged couch in nothing but boxers, flipping through a comic. He scratched his butt with the kind of focus usually reserved for solving ancient riddles.

  Tommy blinked, stunned. “Big Sis… why?”

  Olivia didn’t blink. “Agreed.”

  Nailah crumpled where she stood. “I have no excuses!”

  Kenny looked over, annoyed. “You know I can hear you.”

  Then he noticed the kids and grinned. “Whoa. You’ve got two now? You’ve been busy.”

  Nailah snapped. “DO I LOOK LIKE A MOTHER TO YOU!?”

  From the kitchen, Edward’s voice rang out. “Food’s ready!”

  Nailah exhaled and turned to Tommy and Olivia. “Let’s go. There’s one more you haven’t met.”

  Behind them, Kenny waved halfheartedly from the couch. “I’ll catch up. My arm’s asleep. Like… completely dead.”

  They gathered around the battered dining table as Edward emerged from the kitchen, setting down plates with the care of a seasoned butler.

  Nailah gestured. “This is Edward.”

  Edward beamed. “You must be Tommy and Olivia! What a pleasure!”

  Olivia nearly cried. “Oh thank God. A normal person.”

  The plates looked divine—meat glazed to perfection, vegetables arranged like a painting.

  Everyone dug in.

  Then silence.

  Nailah’s face froze mid-bite. Her soul left her body before she even swallowed. “I forgot…” she mumbled in horror. “Edward can’t cook to save a life.”

  Tommy turned purple, his fork clattered. “This is a war crime.”

  Olivia slumped over, passed out in her chair.

  Nailah, however, kept chewing. Her jaw trembled. Her eye twitched. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

  Back then… I was a noblewoman. I dined on perfection. Edward’s cooking was the only thing in the manor that could knock me out cold in one bite.

  She took a second bite, her soul flickering.

  But now look at me. Eating a second bite. A third. I’ve suffered. I’ve grown. I’ve hit culinary rock bottom.

  More tears welled up. Not from emotion—from pure, visceral pain. She nodded to herself, face scrunched.

  “This… is progress,” she croaked dramatically. “I’ve become stronger.”

  Just then, Kenny strolled in. “Hey, what’s—?”

  Edward handed him a plate before he finished.

  Kenny took a bite. Chewed once. Froze.

  Then stared at the wall like he was reviewing every life decision that led to this moment.

  “…Did I die?” he whispered, tears in his eyes.

  Meanwhile, Yasuke was already on his second helping, licking his fingers. “Hey, old man, load me up again!”

  Edward blinked, concerned. “Why do they all look like that?”

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  Tommy clutched his fork like a weapon. “I think the food’s fighting back…”

  Nailah stood up, hand over her stomach like she’d been stabbed. “I’m going to bed. If I survive the night… we’ll talk.”

  Later that night, Nailah drifted into sleep, her breath steady, her body still—yet her mind stirred.

  In her dream, she stood atop a hill overlooking the sprawling lands below. The sky was golden, glowing with warmth and possibility. Behind her, footsteps echoed—steady, unwavering. She turned to see Edward, Yasuke, Kenny, and others she hadn’t met yet, all walking behind her with pride in their eyes.

  Then came the people.

  Crowds gathered below, not with desperation—but with hope. Children waved flags. Elders wiped tears from their eyes. Workers stood tall. Their voices rose, not in worship, but in gratitude.

  “It’s Nailah, the one who rose from nothing!”

  “She didn’t climb to the top to rule, but to change things!”

  “She made the Lowlands proud!”

  From afar, a group of bandits spotted her and froze. One dropped his weapon.

  “Forget it,” he muttered, backing away. “She’s not just strong—she’s righteous.”

  Nailah looked down at her hands. They glowed faintly, not with Vistra, but with purpose. Not just a conqueror… but a protector. A beacon.

  She turned, walking forward. Her companions followed. The crowd did too.

  She wasn’t dragging people forward anymore.

  They were walking beside her.

  She jolted awake, breath caught in her throat. The dream lingered like morning mist—vivid, undeniable.

  She sat up slowly, her eyes distant, yet clear. Then came the smile. Not arrogant. Not amused.

  Determined.

  “I know what I want,” she whispered. “Power… not just for me. For everyone who’s been silenced.”

  The next morning, she approached Yasuke. “Try to gather as many Crimson Bandits as possible.”

  Yasuke smirked. “Alright. I’m guessing you have an answer.”

  “Yes.”

  Kenny walked in, stretching. “So, what is it?”

  Nailah grinned. “You’ll find out with everyone else.”

  That evening, Yasuke stood before the Crimson Bandits’ hideout, accompanied by Buster and David. He tossed a bag of gold at Buster’s feet.

  Buster frowned. “What’s the meaning of this?”

  Yasuke crossed his arms. “Things happened. Now, she’s my boss. I’m giving you your money back.”

  Buster’s face twisted in anger. “How the hell did this happen!?”

  Yasuke’s gaze darkened. “She promised me something that money can’t buy.”

  The tension was thick as Yasuke turned to leave. “By the way, she wants to see all of you tomorrow. Don’t make me come and get you.”

  Buster and David exchanged uneasy glances.

  The next day, the Crimson Bandits filled the hideout, murmuring beneath flickering lantern light. The air was thick with unease, the scent of oil, sweat, and dust lingering like tension in their throats.

  “What does she want now?” someone whispered.

  “Just don’t piss her off again,” another muttered. “She killed Damon like it was nothing.”

  A hush swept through the room.

  Boots echoed on the stone floor.

  Nailah entered—flanked by Edward, Yasuke, and Kenny. She walked like a storm that knew its path. Unshaken. Unapologetic. Her gaze swept the room, burning through every stare thrown her way.

  She stopped at the center, letting silence settle like a blade at their throats.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said, her voice calm but cold enough to silence even the boldest.

  The bandits bristled. Anger smoldered beneath their stares, but none spoke.

  “I know you hate me,” she continued. “You lost comrades. Brothers. But I didn’t come here for your forgiveness.”

  She let the weight of her words sink in.

  “I came to make sure you understand.”

  A pause. Then her smirk returned—sharp, deliberate.

  “The Crimson Bandits no longer run Scrapville.”

  She raised her chin.

  “Because we do. Black Noblesse runs this place now.”

  The room tensed like a drawn bow. Hands twitched near weapons. Teeth ground behind clenched jaws.

  “If you’ve got a problem with that,” Nailah said, her voice dropping, “you’re free to try me.”

  Yasuke cracked his knuckles with a grin. “If anyone’s feeling brave, step right up. I could use a warm-up.”

  Kenny let out a sigh. “Every time…”

  Nailah raised a hand. The room stilled again.

  “Damon was weak,” she said, her tone razor-sharp. “He ruled through fear, not strength. He had greed, but no vision.”

  She stepped forward, her eyes blazing.

  “But Black Noblesse? We’re not here to survive. We’re here to rise.”

  She spread her arms like a general before her army.

  “So if you want more than scraps… if you’re tired of crawling in the mud for a tyrant who never cared about you… if you believe in doing business right—join me.”

  The room wavered between defiance and doubt.

  Then—

  Buster stepped forward, fists clenched. “Join you? After what you did?”

  Nailah didn’t blink. “Yes. I killed them. I had to.”

  She leaned in slightly, her tone challenging. “But tell me, Buster—how many innocent people did you beat bloody because they couldn’t pay on time?”

  Buster’s jaw tightened.

  “YOU—”

  “Shut the fuck up!” David snapped, stepping in front of him. His voice cut through the tension like a whip.

  The room froze.

  David faced Nailah directly, eyes sharp. “We lost. Fine. But what happens to those of us who walk away?”

  Nailah met his gaze without flinching. “Nothing,” she said. “Unless you get in my way.”

  A long beat.

  David nodded once, then turned away. “Good luck,” he muttered before disappearing into the exit’s shadows.

  One by one, others followed. Boots scraping. Murmurs trailing behind.

  “She’s gonna get herself killed…”

  “Ambition’s a death sentence…”

  “At least she’s not forcing us…”

  Yasuke whistled low. “Damn. She’s losing the whole room. Want me to break a few knees?”

  Nailah didn’t move. Her voice came quiet but cold.

  “No. Let them go.”

  Yasuke blinked, surprised.

  Edward glanced over. “Mistress…”

  She didn’t look back. Just stared at the doorway, watching the exodus of doubt.

  Then—silence.

  Only three remained.

  Kenny finally spoke, voice soft but certain. “These three… they’re worth more than every coward who walked out.”

  Nailah turned to the men still standing there, eyes full of something fierce.

  Not pride. Not relief.

  Resolve.

  She smiled—sharp, tired, real.

  “Welcome to Black Noblesse.”