Chapter 31:  This Isn’t Too Simple

The room went dead silent, all eyes glued to the screen. What they saw made their jaws drop.

A massive, glowing red matrix filled the display, pulsing like a warning sign. It was a tangled web of information that made their heads spin.

"Holy crap," Twitch whispered, breaking the silence. "This is... intense."

Avery leaned in, his eyes narrowing. "And this is just the tip of the iceberg. Willowbrook only. Not even 5% of what's out there."

As they scrolled through, familiar faces popped up alongside strangers. But what really caught their attention were the six figures at the top of the chart. The big bosses of Willowbrook's underworld, each with a missing picture.

"Check it out," Slick pointed. "Lady Nightshade. One managing the Whisperers. What are Whisperers, again?"

"Lucian Thorne," Billy read. "IT guy. Bet he and Twitch would get along."

They went down the list:

Master Heihachi, the brains.

Silas Venom, keeper of the Cleaners.

Kael Emberstrike, their link to the outside world, especially to the Sentinels.

But the last one...

"Cheshire Cat?" Edward tilted his head. "Weird. There's nothing on them."

Avery frowned. A ghost in a world of shadows. That couldn't be good.

Slick let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Man, this is like trying to catch smoke with our bare hands. The Night Gallery's got some serious skills when it comes to staying off the radar."

But Billy's eyes were gleaming with excitement. "Are you kidding? This is a stash of gold!" He gestured wildly at the screen. "Look at this matrix. It's like a map of their whole operation. We might not have all the pieces, but we can see how massive this thing is."

"Yeah," Twitch chimed in, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "Check out Lady Nightshade's crew." The screen zoomed in, revealing a web of connections. "These aren't just random goons. We're talking bigwigs in media, politics, you name it."

Avery leaned in, his expression grim. "If these are the foot soldiers, imagine what kind of power player Nightshade must be."

The room fell silent as the gravity of their situation sank in. They weren't just poking a bear – they were taking on a whole forest of them.

Edward, who'd been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly piped up. "So... we're basically the Rebel Alliance going up against the Empire, right? Awesome!"

Avery couldn't help but crack a smile. "Something like that, kid. But let's hope our chances are better than one in a million."

As they look deeper into Lady Nightshade's network, Avery's eyes widened. The Whisperers weren't just messengers – they were the eyes and ears of the entire operation. Familiar faces from news channels and newspapers popped up, alongside shadowy figures with blank profiles.

"Guys," Avery said, his voice low, "we need to tread carefully here. We're in way deeper than I thought."

Rocco and Bishop exchanged uneasy glances. They weren't usually part of these strategy sessions, preferring the streets to screens. Avery had them patrolling Third Street, the forgotten underbelly of the city where secrets flowed like cheap beer.

"Boss," Rocco spoke up, his gruff voice breaking the tension, "heard some whispers down on Third. Might be nothing, but..."

Bishop nodded, adding, "Yeah, we'll update you on the matter soon as we receive more information."

The six of them – not counting the wild cards Billy and Edward – exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. They all remembered that night, when death seemed certain after Avery killed the Cleaner. They were society's outcasts, their hands stained with choices they'd made just to survive. 

But Avery? He'd looked at them and seen something worth saving.

It wasn't just a second chance he'd given them. It was like he'd hit a reset button on their lives. Now, they could walk with their heads held high, proud of the work they did. A little bit shady, but at least it's for the better. No more lying awake at night, haunted by the day's "jobs." They could face their families without shame, knowing their earnings came from sweat, not blood.

But as they stared at the sprawling matrix of the Night Gallery, the enormity of what they were up against hit home. Rocco and Bishop shared a look, both thinking the same thing: How far would they go for the guy who'd pulled them out of the gutter?

Avery caught their expressions and raised an eyebrow. "Having second thoughts?"

There was a moment of tense silence before Slick spoke up, his voice quiet but firm. "Nah, boss. We're with you. All the way."

The others nodded, determination replacing doubt in their eyes. They'd been given a shot at redemption, and they weren't about to waste it. 

…

Mina glanced around the store, frowning at the messy display counter. "Hey, Mr. Takeda," she called out, "Did Ave decide to play hooky today or what?"

Their boss looked up from his paperwork, shrugging. "Nah, he just said he had some stuff to deal with. Sounded important."

"Huh," Mina mused, then perked up. "Oh! What about our new guard? You know, the one kid? I Like him. He's super nice, but maybe too nice for his own good?"

Mr. Takeda chuckled. "Him too. Something about moving to a new place nearby. Figured I'd cut him some slack."

As they chatted, the bell above the door chimed. In walked a guy around his 50s who looked like he'd stepped straight out of a spy movie – dark suit, sunglasses, the works. Never mind that it was cloudy enough outside to make a vampire feel comfortable.

Mina and Mr. Takeda exchanged glances. 

Mina eyed the guy suspiciously but kept her distance. No need to scare off a potential customer, even if he did look like a reject from "Men in Black." He went straight to the fridge and got a bottle of water and into the counter.

Mr. Takeda, looking oblivious to the weirdness, rang up the bottle of water. "That'll be $1.86," he said, sounding bored out of his mind.

The man reached for his wallet, and Mina relaxed a bit. Just another oddball customer, right?

Wrong.

In a blink, the wallet transformed into a wicked-looking knife. The guy lunged at Mr. Takeda, moving way too fast for a normal person.

But Mr. Takeda? He was faster.

Before Mina could even gasp, her boss's hand shot out, snagging three lollipops from the counter. He brandished them between his fingers like Wolverine's claws, facing off against the attacker.

Mina's jaw hit the floor. What in the anime-inspired fever dream was happening?

Mina's ears rang with the clash of makeshift weapons. This was no playground scuffle – these guys were going at it for real.

Without thinking, Mina sprang into action. She slid across the slick floor like a human bowling ball, wrapping her legs around the attacker's ankles. Gritting her teeth, she pushed with all her might, trying to topple the guy.

But it was like trying to knock over a brick wall. This dude was built.

Plan B, then. Mina let go, rolled, and somehow managed a move that would make gymnasts jealous. In a blink, she was clinging to the guy's back like a demented koala.

The attacker, clearly not appreciating his new backpack, slammed himself backwards into the counter. Mina's eyes went wide. If she stayed put, she'd be pancaked against the shelves.

Another split-second decision. Another impossible acrobat move. Suddenly, Mina found herself face-to-face with the guy, her knee rocketing towards his jaw.

Time seemed to slow down. Mina had a fleeting thought – when did her life turn into an action movie? – and then...

"Whoa, whoa! Time out, Mina!" Mr. Takeda's voice cut through the chaos. "He's a friend!"

Mina froze, her knee millimeters from the guy's face. 

Say what now?

Mr. Takeda stepped out from behind the counter, grinning like a kid. "Damien, you old dog! How long's it been?"

The attacker – Damien, apparently – straightened up, chuckling. "Just checking if you've gone soft, brother. Though this spitfire here," he nodded at Mina, "nearly took my head off."

"Oh, right!" Mr. Takeda beamed. "Mina, meet Damien. We grew up in the same dojo. This guy used to wipe the floor with me daily."

Damien snorted. "Ancient history. These creaky bones aren't what they used to be."

Mina stood there, jaw hanging open, heart still pounding like a jackhammer. Had she seriously just been punk'd? One minute she's fighting for her life, the next it's all 'remember the good old days'?

The two men laughed and caught up, and Mina's brain short-circuited. First Mr. Takeda's lollipop-wolverine move, now this long-lost dojo brother?

One thing was crystal clear: this "boring" convenience store job was anything but simple and ordinary.