Chapter 7.1 Finns backstory

"Tell me, kid," Finn stabbed the knife into the tabletop and pulled out a cigar, which he lit. "What do you know about how I became a chem baron?"

Sirion pretended to keep his eyes calmly on Finn, but inside he was already beginning to wonder where this conversation was going.

"Honestly? Nothing," he admitted. "I tried not to go into it too much."

Finn grinned, lighting a cigar. The flame from the lighter illuminated his face for a moment, sharpening his features. He took a drag and blew out a thick cloud of smoke that quickly filled the room.

"The trouble is, none of you puppies understand the world around you," he said, twirling the cigar between his fingers. "You think it's all that simple: a gun in your hands, connections, a little luck - and here you are already at the top.

He chuckled, looking at the knife stuck in the tabletop.

"But it's not that simple, boy. To become a baron, you have to lose a lot. Family. Friends. Sometimes even yourself."

Sirion listened carefully, noting every detail.

"What have you lost, boss?" he asked carefully.

Finn looked up slowly, and for a moment something dark, almost animal, flickered in his eyes.

"Everything," he said shortly, picking up the knife and running it along the edge of the table. "You think you know Zaun? No. The real Zaun is a struggle. An endless one. For a place in the sun that isn't here anyway."

He took another drag from his cigarette and looked at Sirion, narrowing his eyes. Finn chuckled, flicking the ash onto the floor.

"You're walking into the very throat of the beast, boy. The pink season is over for you, time to get to more important work." During this time, I was still testing you for your professional suitability, looking to see if you could screw me over or put a spoke in my wheel somewhere. And you're good, surprisingly, unlike many before you, you do your job cleanly, and you've never opened a package. And that's why I want to know... - Finn leaned closer, looking straight into Sirion's eyes. - Are you ready for more serious matters?

Sirion squeezed the letter in his hands, trying to remain calm.

- Ready, - he answered firmly, although everything was seething inside.

Finn leaned back in his chair, laughing hoarsely.

- We'll see, - he said, putting out his cigar on the metal edge of the table. - If you come back alive, you can tell me what you think of the real Zaun. But still, before you go, let me tell you about how people become crime lords or chem-barons, using my example as an example.

Sirion sat up straight, interested, at these words. To be honest, he didn't know anything about Finn, except that in the series he tried to displace Silko from the throne of the unofficial leader of Zaun and failed. Finn lit his cigar again, pausing to take a drag, and leaned back in his chair.

"My father..." he began, looking somewhere into the distance, past Sirion. "He was a man who understood this city. Understood that in Zaun, everything is based on fear and money."

Sirion was silent, trying to absorb every word.

"He had a large gang. They protected shops, collected tribute, sometimes carried out... let's say, specific orders," Finn glanced at Sirion quickly, and then smiled slightly, noticing his barely perceptible reaction.

"Murders?" Sirion carefully clarified.

Finn nodded briefly.

"Yes, contract killings. It's a tough world, kid. If someone wanted a competitor to disappear, your father would find the right people.

Sirion felt a slight chill run down his spine, but he didn't show it. Zaun was a cruel place, and it wasn't a revelation to him.

"When your father died, everything went wrong. There were plenty of people who wanted to take his place, and the gang could have simply fallen apart. I was just a puppy, not much older than you, just a few years. Do you know who helped me keep it all together?"

Sirion shook his head.

"Jerry," Finn said, blowing out a smoke ring.

"Jerry?" Sirion asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Of course, Jerry had said earlier that he was a friend of Finn's father and remembered him from when he was a little boy. But why did Jerry help Finn and not take the place of the leader himself?

"What did you think, he only carried packages?" Finn grinned. "This man was my father's best ally. While my father kept everyone in line, Jerry did the dirty work."

"Dirty?" Sirion frowned, but he already knew where this was going. "You mean he... did the killing, too?"

Finn stared thoughtfully at the end of his cigar before answering.

"Yeah, he did. He was the best at it. Until one time."

"What time?" Sirion asked, feeling his heart beat faster.

Finn stubbed his cigar out on the metal edge of the table, his face turning serious.

"His son." Finn's voice was quiet, almost a whisper. However, what struck Sirion most was not that, but the satisfaction with which he said it. "The boy died in response to one of Jerry's orders. Someone decided to take revenge, and the boy was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Sirion frowned, feeling a heaviness rise in his chest.

"It's…" He didn't know what to say.

"After that, Jerry left the weapon. Of course, he tried to avenge himself, but he lost his leg," Finn looked at him with genuine seriousness. "But he didn't leave me. He could have left, distanced himself from this world, but he stayed. I think this was his way of atoning for his guilt." Sirion thought, looking at the table in front of him. This story added another color to the picture of Zaun - dark, bitter, but inevitably true.

Finn ran his hand along the edge of the table, as if trying to smooth out some unseen roughness.

"Do you know why I'm telling you this, boy?"

Sirion looked up at the man, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

"Why?"

Finn's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression sharp.

"Because the world we live in is unforgiving. No matter how good you are at what you do, one mistake and you're done. You're either dead or broken beyond repair."

Sirion felt Finn's words cut deep, leaving a mark.

"Have you made many mistakes yourself?" he asked suddenly, trying to figure out how sincere the man was being.

Finn smiled, but it was a bitter smile.

"A lot. More than I'd like to admit. But I learned from them, not hid from them. And now I have what my father didn't have: control.

Sirion narrowed his eyes, sensing that Finn was about to say something important.

"That's why you're here," Finn continued, his voice hardening. "I have a task for you. This isn't just a delivery, not just another package. This is a test."

"A test?" Sirion asked, feeling a slight tension in his chest.

Finn nodded and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, placing it on the table.

"You'll deliver this letter to one person. That's all you need to do."

Sirion looked at the letter, taking his time to take it.

"And who is this person?"

Finn chuckled, but there was an odd seriousness in his gaze.

"A crime lord. You don't need to know the name. Just get there and deliver it. If you succeed, you'll learn more. If you fail...well, I think you know what that means. We're forming an alliance."

Sirion stared at the letter in silence, a mixture of curiosity and trepidation building within him. The Alliance... as far as he knew from Jerry's earlier words, there were no alliances among them. There were technically fragile borders of peace, established by Vander with the support of the peacekeepers from Piltover. But as he understood it, Vander had loosened his grip several years ago. In canon, this had given Silko a chance to rise. Sirion frowned, weighing the words.

"The Alliance?" he said quietly, looking up at Finn. "Is... is that possible?"

Finn chuckled, blowing out a cloud of smoke from his cigar.

"Anything is possible in this world, kid. The main thing is to know who to make deals with and how to keep them under control."

Sirion thought about it. His thoughts returned to Jerry's words about the peace in Zaun being held together by a thread. It was hard to imagine anyone trying to upset that fragile balance.

"And if this alliance doesn't work?" he asked, choosing his words carefully.

Finn looked at him, a mixture of patience and hidden threat in his gaze.

"Then one will be stronger, and the other one will be weaker. The only question is which side you'll be on."

Sirion looked back at the letter. Two feelings were fighting inside him: the desire to know more about what was happening and the understanding that he could end up a pawn in someone else's game.

"When should I leave?" he asked, trying to speak calmly.

Finn smiled, as if pleased with his determination.

"Immediately. The address is on the back of the letter. But remember: no one will be waiting for you there with open arms."

Sirion nodded and carefully took the letter. His palm felt the rough paper. He already knew what kind of mission this was. A simple courier, at first glance. But in reality, it was a test of survival.

"Good luck, boy," Finn added, watching him go. "And don't you dare screw up." Sirion nodded briefly and, tucking the letter into his inside pocket, turned to leave. The road to the lower levels of Zaun awaited him, to the dark side of the city, where the most dangerous figures hid.