Gang Infiltration

The two men looked at each other, a silent communication passing between them. The larger of the two spoke, his voice gruff. "And who are you? How do you know the Boss?"

'Of course, he's the Boss.' Enzo rolled his eyes. 'Mikell always had to be the one in charge.'

Enzo smirked behind the skull mask. "I'm an… old friend. Tell him Enzo's here to catch up and collect on a debt."

Another shared look passed between the guards before the smaller one nodded and disappeared inside. Moments later, he returned and jerked his head towards the door. "Boss says to let him in."

As Enzo climbed the steps, the larger doorman put his meaty hand on his chest. "You behave or I'll see to it that you don't leave this place in one piece."

Enzo stared at the hand on his chest before he kneed the man right in the groin. "It's not polite to touch someone without their permission."

He stepped over the groaning man and entered, the rusty door creaking shut behind him.

The interior was dimly lit, with flickering fluorescent lights casting an eerie glow over worn furniture and graffiti-covered walls. 

The air was thick with the acrid smell of cigarette smoke and something more pungent – likely illegal substances being consumed in the back rooms.

At the far end of the room, seated behind a battered desk, was Mikell. Enzo looked at the man, remembering their many conversations in his previous life.

The future Pantheons of Damora's spymaster grinned at Enzo.

"Well, well," Mikell drawled, leaning back in his chair. "If it isn't, little Enzo. I heard you went off to college. I'd thought you'd forgotten all about us street rats."

Enzo approached the desk, gazing around the room. "Street rats is the proper name for your little operation, isn't it."

Mikell's eyes narrowed, his tone icy. "What have you come here for Enzo? My guy says you're here to collect on a debt. It's strange since I don't remember owing you anything."

Mikell started to rise from the desk, only for Enzo to place his hands on the desk and lean in. "Oh, but I think you do. Don't you remember all the times you taught me lessons about the world? What did you call it, advanced tutoring in the way of the fist?"

A look of confusion crossed Mikell's face that quickly morphed into anger. "The fuck you talking about, Enzo? You come into my territory, acting all high and mighty, and think I won't—"

In a blur of motion too fast for the human eye to track, Enzo vaulted over the desk. Before Mikell could even think to react, Enzo had him by the throat, lifting him out of his chair with one hand.

"Listen carefully," Enzo said, his voice eerily calm. "I'm only going to say this once, you little shit. I'm giving you one shot to co-operate peacefully with me, or there will be consequences."

Mikell clawed at Enzo's hand, his face turning red as he struggled to breathe. Enzo loosened his grip just enough to allow the man to gasp out, "You're... insane..."

Enzo chuckled, the sound muffled by his mask. "That's possible. But I'm also the strongest person in this room." To demonstrate, he lifted Mikell higher until his feet dangled off the ground. "And in this new world, might makes right. Are you ready to listen?"

Confusion and terror vied for control of Mikell's facial muscles, but terror won out, and Mikell nodded frantically.

Enzo set him down, allowing the gang leader to collapse back into his chair, coughing and massaging his throat.

"What... what do you want?" Mikell wheezed.

Enzo paced the room, his tone becoming almost conversational. "First, you will sign this."

Enzo reached into his inventory, which he could access since he had awakened, and pulled out a contract he had picked up in the city.

The terms were predatory, but Enzo felt no guilt. The contract was more than fair, and if Mikell followed the terms, he wouldn't have to serve for that long.

When Update 2.0 launched, people would throw themselves at the strong to become their servants.

They would sign their soul away if it meant attaching themselves to someone strong.

And Enzo planned to be the strongest.

Mikell nodded, glancing at Enzo out of the corner of his eye. Enzo could see him slowly reaching for his top desk drawer.

With a fast flick of his hand, Mikell reached into the desk, retrieved his gun, pointing it at Enzo.

Only…

Mikell had only blinked once, and Enzo was now sitting before him, fiddling with his gun.

"It's a cool toy, but it won't be useful when the apocalypse starts. I guess I should update the contract."

Once one hits Tier-2, almost no weapon on Earth will damage their bodies, much less a small handgun like Mikell's.

"How did you—"

Enzo sighed, turning his cold, deadly stare onto Mikell. He put the contract on the table away and pulled out the other contract with less than pleasant terms. "Either sign the contract. Or I'll take your severed head and talk to your second in command. I'm sure he'll be more amenable." 

Mikell's breath caught in his throat, his words dying out. 

"Just what happened to you?" Mikell murmured to himself.

'A lot.' Enzo mused. 'Ten years worth of battles, pain, struggle, betrayal and loss does change a man.'

Mikell reached and picked up a pen before Enzo stopped him.

"With blood."

Mikell suppressed his curses about how this was insane and cut his finger, doing what Enzo wanted.

He didn't dare voice it, but Mikell was pretty sure Enzo was insane. 'What kind of lunatic wants me to sign a contract with blood? Does he think the government is stupid and would enforce this kind of contract?'

But his thoughts died in his throat as he watched the contract start to glow after he signed his name using his blood. He felt a weight settle onto his mind, and he instinctively knew that what he had signed was very much an actual contract.

Much more real than any piece of paper enforced by a lawyer could ever be.