Bonus Chapter
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The Irish gang's headquarters was disguised as a vehicle repair and modification shopâan old trick that kept law enforcement at bay.
Though their dominance in Hell's Kitchen had waned since Kingpin's rise, the Irish gang had once ruled the streets for decades. A lean camel is still bigger than a horseâas the saying goesâand despite their downfall, the Irish remained one of the top criminal factions in the area.
Inside the smoke-heavy office, four leather sofas were arranged in a square. Two of them were occupied by middle-aged men in matching suits and shoesânearly indistinguishable twins to any outsider.
The younger of the two clutched an invitation in his hand, his face twisted in anger.
"Tom Ralph, I just heard that Kingpin's godson invited us to some kind of community meeting at his place this weekend. Apparently, it's about that school he's opening."
Tom's brother, Jerry Ralph, slammed the card onto the table.
"This bastard Kingpin really thinks he owns Hell's Kitchen now. We shouldn't go. Others might kiss his ring, but the Irish Gang bows to no one."
Tom took the invitation calmly, his fingers steepled in thought.
"Jerry, I've told you not to use my full name in meetings. And yes, we are going. In fact, we're not just goingâwe're going to make sure everyone else who got invited shows up too."
Jerry frowned. "What? You serious? We're not scared of that fat tyrant. If he pushes us into a corner, worst-case scenario? We die. Big deal."
He had always resented Wilson FiskâKingpinâand had been pushing for other gangs to challenge his reign for years.
Tom's eyes gleamed as he leaned forward.
"You don't get it. The Hand's Madam Gao already reached out. She said Kingpin's a wild dogâuntamable. But if we kill him? We take his throne. Hell's Kitchen would be ours."
He gestured to the invitation in his hand.
"I was just waiting for the right excuse to stir the pot, and this is it. That school meeting is the perfect opportunity. As for his godsonâAlex Ray? Please. When we were carving up these streets, that kid was still playing in the sandbox."
â
On the outskirts of Hell's Kitchen, the slums formed a chaotic web of makeshift homes and alleyways. This was the Mexican gang's turfâdealers of weed and hard narcotics, controlling nearly six percent of the drug trade in the area.
The terrain was a twisted labyrinth, densely packed with addicts and the homeless. The deeper you went, the more dangerous it gotâbuildings leaning on the edge of collapse, rotting trash underfoot, and gaunt faces glaring with wolf-like hunger.
At the heart of it all was the gang's baseâa decrepit structure on the outside, lavishly furnished on the inside. It reeked of excess: gaudy chandeliers, leather sofas, and topless women in bikinis sprawled over drug-laced tables. Flip-flop-wearing gangsters in Hawaiian shirts smoked cigars and sipped cheap rum like cartel kings.
One of Gust's trusted men entered the room, cradling an AK-47.
"Boss, we got a delivery. Invitation from Kingpin."
Gust, the leader of the Mexican gang, raised a brow.
"Kingpin? Where is it?"
The envelope was handed over. Gust didn't open itâhe ripped it to shreds in seconds. Then he unfolded the invitation, scanning the contents.
He barked a cold laugh.
"Alex Ray? That bastard's been a thorn in my side from day one. And now he's inviting me? If I see him, I'll put a bullet between his eyes."
He tossed the crumpled paper onto the ground and turned to his lieutenant.
"Send a message. Find a few junkies, strap time bombs to them, and send them to that meeting. Tell them it's a gift from Gust. Then go hire mutant mercenariesâI don't care how much it costs. Just make sure that piece of shit Alex Ray doesn't walk away alive."
Alex had always fought against drug activity in his territory, and Gust's crew had suffered countless losses because of it. He was cutting into Gust's profitsâprofits that Gust valued more than life itself.
He knew the bombs might not kill Alex, but the gathering would be full of civiliansâand maybe even a few rival leaders. Even a failed attempt could stir chaos and pin the blame squarely on Alex and Kingpin.
And if it all went south? So what. Gust had enough money to hire a dozen more mutants. That was the luxury of being a drug lordâplenty of blood money to burn.
â
Across town, near the border of the affluent districts, stood the Razor Gang's stronghold.
This British-rooted gang, led by the notorious Tommy Shelby, had carved out their turf through brutal efficiency and unflinching violence. Named for the razors hidden in their hats, they'd strike fast and disappear before anyone could scream.
The previous leader, Arthur ShelbyâTommy's older brotherâhad fallen in a brutal gang war. But Tommy had rebuilt the gang into something even more dangerous. Their mostly white, European membership often clashed with the ethnically diverse Mexican and Irish gangs. But their strategic location and savage reputation had kept them dominant.
In a stately English-style villa, Tommy Shelby sat at a table sipping afternoon tea. An open invitation lay beside his saucer.
Tommy liked Alex Ray. Respected him, even. The man had vision, principlesâsomething most in Hell's Kitchen lacked. And the school plan? Smart. Give the community hope, earn their trust. But admiration didn't mean loyalty. Not in this game.
"If he wants our support," Tommy muttered to himself, "he better come with something worth my time."
He stared out the window, watching the sun dip low over the skyline.
"Hell's Kitchen is heading for chaos⊠and chaos? That's opportunity."
â
Meanwhile, in Midtownâthe beating heart of Hell's Kitchenâtension simmered like a ticking bomb.
Midtown was the most developed, crowded, and volatile zone in the district. Countless gangs competed here, and no one held real control.
Inside a dimly lit bar tucked between a pawn shop and an abandoned movie theater, a young Asian man in a long black cloak gave orders to his lieutenants. His spiked yellow hair caught the flickering light like a hedgehog made of gold.
"Understood, Vongola I. I'll arrange to secure the new territory immediately," said a subordinate before disappearing into the night.
The man with the hedgehog hair was none other than Vongola I, the newly crowned leader of the Vongola familyâan up-and-coming powerhouse in Hell's Kitchen. A supernova in the criminal underworld, his rise had been meteoric, ruthless, and surgical.
Now, all the major playersâIrish, Mexican, British, and Vongolaâheld invitations in hand.
And at the center of it all stood Alex Ray.
A school was just the excuse. What was really brewing was a war.
And Hell's Kitchen was about to explode.
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Bonus Chapter - 150 Power Stones
2nd Bonus Chapter - 300 Power Stones
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đ Enjoying the Story? Get Ahead Now!
Can't wait for the next twist or epic moment?
Join my Patreon and unlock 40+ advanced chaptersâread ahead of everyone else! đ„
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Your support means the world to meâthank you so much! đ
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