Chapter 8

April 14, 2021. 23:20. Richmond.

"Yeah, so… I got beef with one of the head honchos of the Dead Kings." Remi awkwardly folds his arms as he explains. "Long story short, I ended up with this rivalry thing going, and I basically told this gonk to go 'fuck himself.' He's dead now, though, so they all think I'm the one who did it."

I interrupt, curiosity piqued. "Wait, who's the guy?"

"AXIS." Holy shit, no way. What are the odds of that?

"Wait, really? I killed him earlier today."

"OH SHIT, THAT WAS YOU!? MY FUCKIN' CHOOM!" Remi's jaw drops in excitement, and he practically has to stop himself from jumping up and down. I blink in surprise; it's always interesting to see how others react once they find out I kill in cold blood. Remi, though, seems ecstatic. I raise an amused eyebrow.

"You don't mind that I killed him?"

"Nah, fuck that guy. I'm happy you zeroed his ass." Azure chuckles in the background, her attention fixed on Remi.

"This is exactly the reason why your main bike is in my shop." Wait, shop? Remi looks back at Azure with glaring eyes.

"Hey, they asked for it." Azure snorts, placing a hand on her hip.

"Yeah, and you're paying for it." While Azure and Remi bicker, I glance at Tetra and see he's just as confused as I am. I smile and shrug at him. I have no clue what's going on with them either, man. Mister cuts in before anyone else can speak.

"Good to know, Remi. I suggest we get going, though. We're wasting time." I nod in agreement and glance at the rest of us gathered here.

"Yeah, Mister's right. We should get going. So, should we go together, or are we heading there separately?"

"If we're going to the headquarters of the Dead Kings, it's probably better that we arrive together. Wait for Shock and me to return." I sigh, knowing that I'll have to leave my truck behind.

"Kay, see you in a bit." I end the call and look back at the others. "Alright, since we're moving together, I'm gonna grab some gear from my truck." Tetra nods in the direction of my ride.

"Need any help?"

"Nah, just figured I'd mention this now so I don't surprise you all." I stride toward the trunk of my vehicle and pop it open. Inside is a fairly large black duffle bag with a solid heft to it. I lift it with casual ease, slinging it over my shoulder before locking up my truck. As I do, I spot Mister and Shock returning to us. I nod in their direction, and all of us head toward the same large silver Mercedes-Benz Sprinter with tinted black windows. Mister is the first to arrive at the van and slides the door open for all of us to enter.

I'm immediately hit with a pleasant car freshener smell, reminiscent of walking in a pine tree forest in autumn. I take a deep whiff of the aroma and find a spot to sit, setting down my duffle bag. I plant myself on a black leather chair, my feet resting on the black carpeted floor. The rest of my team follows shortly after, with Shock sitting beside me. Mister takes the wheel, Azure sits shotgun, and Remi and Tetra sit behind me. The door closes, and the engine hums to life.

I feel the gentle acceleration of Mister's driving. Not bad. We pass by buildings of grey and neon advertising, and not once do I feel any abrupt stops. I lean back in my chair, observing Mister's careful driving. The way he perfectly slows to a stop at a red light is both satisfying and professional—yet strangely caring. He drives as if we're all on a family trip. Shock then breaks the peace of the ride.

"Soooo, while we're on the way there, we should get to know each other some more!" She looks at me with excitement in her eyes. "I'll go first." She places a hand over her chest. "I'm my brother's netrunner and part of the specialized cleanup crew for the Camorra." Oh, we're doing icebreakers, huh? I maintain my professional composure with a calm smile.

"Consider me Wissen's preferred solo. Otherwise, I'm a paid assassin—you can find my website if you look hard enough." A moment of silence follows, but Tetra bites.

"Uh, yeah, I'm not from Vancouver. I'm from the Thelas Nation." Tetra awkwardly fidgets with his fingers, to my surprise, struggling to find the words to continue. "We kind of move all over the place, but I'm here since Wissen promised to help me out." Fair enough. I nod along with his introduction, satisfied with what I heard. Wissen is not only rich but has connections all across the world. It makes sense that someone would ask for his help. Shock, however, doesn't seem satisfied and prods Tetra with a playful tone.

"Oh? It's not money?"

Tetra shakes his head and pauses. His face contorts into one of conflict, but he relents after a brief moment of contemplation.

"He's helping me find someone who went missing—my brother." I raise an eyebrow but keep staring out the window, watching the passing buildings. Shock twists in her chair to look back at Tetra. I catch a blur of her reflection in my window.

"Oh. Em. Gee. What happened? Did y'all, like, have a fight or something?" Tetra tilts his head in confusion, and I struggle not to snort in amusement.

"He left the family a few months back. Some of us think he just straight-up left for good." Tetra pauses again, carefully choosing his next words. "But I don't think so—he's not a family man, but he wouldn't just up and leave without telling me first. That's why I need Wissen's help. I'm willing to do anything for a lead." I subtly nod along in silence, ensuring no one sees. I cross my legs and casually flick my foot against the floor every so often. Family is always an emotionally charged topic for me, and my heart goes out to those who stick to their loved ones. Remi then interjects.

"Damn, choom, I just signed up for the side hustle money. But shiiiit, good luck though." Azure and Mister have been the quietest, listening from the front, until they finally join in.

"Yeah, I only signed up for the additional eddies." Azure looks back, nodding in agreement with Remi. Mister is the last one to speak, his voice calm.

"As did I. It just so happened that my sources told me Mister was hiring, and I decided that getting additional contacts never hurts." Hmm. Networking. Fair enough.

Shock, ever the chatterbox, keeps the energy lively as the van cruises through the city. "Hmmm, what about you, Azure? What's your deal? You haven't said much." She leans forward, poking her head between the front seats to look at the two in front. Azure glances back and smirks at Shock.

"There's not much to say. I'm a woman of very little," she chuckles, raising her hands with a shrug. "I'm just here for the cash. I run a mechanic shop in Burnaby if that interests you."

"Ohhh, are you also interested in getting your hands on some cool tech?" There's an awkward pause after that. Others might not have noticed it, but I did—there was hesitation in Azure's response.

"Yeah, this 'Autumn Blade' business interests me." I narrow my eyes when she says Autumn Blade. There's a strange sense of familiarity in the way she speaks about the company. I suspect Shock will press her further, but Mister interrupts, and the van begins to slow down.

"We're here."

I direct my head away from Azure and instead to the window on my side. My eyes widen at a sight I haven't seen in years since my childhood and adolescence.

…

23:50. Vancouver.

Mister parks the van on a nearby street, and the rest of us lean against the windows, taking in the sight of the stadium. BC Place—a name that once held nostalgia for sports fans and event-goers—now stands as a monument to the Dead Kings' power in Vancouver. The massive structure looms ahead, its LED-lit exterior casting a kaleidoscope of colours across the surrounding buildings. Gone are the banners of sporting teams or corporate sponsorships; in their place are flags bearing the gang's white skull insignia, outlined in black and gold for a touch of arrogance.

Around the stadium, the streets are alive with movement. Neon lights from nearby clubs and bars reflect off expensive cars parked along the curbs: sleek sports cars, luxury SUVs, and heavily modified imports. Groups of sharply dressed individuals roam between venues, their laughter and chatter mingling with the smell of alcohol and street food.

I raise an eyebrow at the scene, scanning the crowds. The Dead Kings may call themselves a gang, but this… this is more like a high-end social club. The expensive cars, the nightlife, the constant buzz of activity—who wouldn't want to end up here? Armed guards patrol the streets, their casual movements masking their vigilance. Beneath the designer hoodies, leather jackets, and ripped jeans are glimpses of body armour. Their necks and hands are inked with tattoos of the gang's insignia, a bold declaration of their allegiance.

Tetra chimes in with the curiosity of a tourist. "Wait, I don't get it. These guys are so close to the police—how come they haven't been shut down?"

I open my mouth to answer, but Mister beats me to it, his tone calm and collected. "They don't sell drugs or traffic people, but they're heavily armed and fiercely territorial."

"So they've got a bunch of weapons and men? I thought the police were funded by the corporations here?"

"They are, but the Dead Kings aren't worth the trouble—not when Vancouver is still recovering from a financial crisis. Only recently did Mayor Gestalt alleviate housing problems by having corporations assist in construction. The primary focus of the city is growth right now. The police only just received their increased funding a few weeks ago."

"Ah, damn. So what do the Dead Kings do, then?"

"Well, they started as neighbourhood hoodlums trying to make it big. That part's stayed consistent, even now. They make their money as bouncers and bodyguards, but they've recently expanded into show business—arranging parties and events. What makes them stand out from other gangs is their appeal."

"Appeal?" Tetra leans forward, intrigued.

Mister nods. "They're not just a gang—they're a brand. To join the Dead Kings is to sign up for a chance to make it 'big.' Connections, parties, status—they offer it all."

Tetra still looks confused, so I step in. "Joining the Dead Kings means climbing the social ladder, gaining connections, and partying like royalty. But if they need to get violent and break a few rules to get things done, they have no problem doing it."

"Ah." Tetra leans back, processing the explanation. Shock takes this as her cue, enthusiastically sliding the van door open.

"Alright, history lesson's over—time to move!" She hops out first. How the hell does she manage to stay energetic? Unlike Shock, I hesitate; I glance at my duffle bag. Don't worry, mommy won't be gone for long. I lovingly pat my bag and then step out into the cool night air. 

I'm so fucked if anyone recognizes me.