A new friendship

Arvish stepped into the tent and was immediately struck by the opulence of the interior. It was far more lavish than he had expected from a gang's encampment. Gold trinkets and gleaming weapons adorned the space, and a large bed dominated the back of the room. Two women stood silently at the back of the tent, their eyes fixed on the ground.

Gorgon gestured for Arvish to join him at a table in the center of the room. Despite his trepidation, Arvish complied, taking a seat across from the imposing figure.

"I really didn't want any trouble," Arvish said, his nerves getting the best of him.

"Don't worry about it," Gorgon replied, waving his hand dismissively. "It was a misunderstanding. My name is Gorgon. I am the leader of this gang. And who might you be?"

"I am Arvish," he said, struggling to come up with something impressive to say. "I was an analyst."

Gorgon snapped his fingers, and the two women sprang into action, bringing out plates of fragrant rosemary chicken and potatoes. Arvish's stomach rumbled with hunger as they placed a whiskey bottle on the table and poured glasses for both men.

Gorgon lifted his glass, the golden liquid within it swishing around as he toasted to Arvish. "To a new friendship," he said with a friendly smile.

Arvish hesitated for a moment, unsure of Gorgon's true intentions. But the smell of the food on the table overwhelmed his suspicions. The tender chicken looked too good to resist. He eagerly began to eat, savoring the flavor of the spices and herbs that had been cooked into the meat.

As he ate, Gorgon spoke again. "We only have one rule in this place, Arvish," he said, his voice low and measured. "No firearms allowed."

Arvish looked up from his plate, his eyebrows raised in surprise. The fact that Gorgon had banned firearms seemed strange to him.

"I know what you're thinking," Gorgon said, as if he could read Arvish's thoughts. "You want to ask why. Why ban firearms when they are so effective in combat?"

Arvish nodded, his curiosity piqued.

"Because guns are the weapon of the weak," Gorgon said, his voice growing more intense. "With a gun, you can shoot down a stronger opponent of yours with ease. But with just your bare knuckles and knives, the more powerful will always win. We don't want to be a place that rewards weakness."

Arvish nodded again, his mind whirling with thoughts. Gorgon's logic made sense, and it was hard to come by any firearm. They were well regulated, and only law enforcer forces had a license for it. A regular person couldn't get a hold of it and would be jailed if he got caught with one.

Gorgon watched him with interest, Arvish's metallic arm gleaming in the light. As Arvish tore into his food, Gorgon couldn't help but think of the power he could gain with such an arm.

"So, what is this place?" Arvish asked between mouthfuls.

"This here is my vision, a utopia," Gorgon replied, standing up and pacing around the tent. "A place where there are no governments, no rules, no laws."

"Sounds interesting," Arvish said, impressed despite himself.

"A place where the strong can thrive and the weak will serve them," Gorgon continued.

Arvish stopped at eating, "So like slaves?"

"Sometimes like that, sometimes like food," replied Gorgon.

Arvish's appetite faltered as Gorgon's words sank in. He looked down at his food and wondered if it was truly chicken.

Gorgon sat back in his chair, his eyes glittering with a fierce intensity. "You know what built the whole world, Arvish?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. "Slavery."

Arvish shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Every great empire had slaves," Gorgon continued, as if sensing Arvish's discomfort. "The Romans, the British, the Americans. And even today, society is built on the backs of those who are weaker. But at least I have the decency to not kid people with dreams."

Arvish bristled at this statement because he knew what it felt to be weak.

"If you are weak," Gorgon continued, ignoring Arvish's reaction, "Then you have to pay for it with your sweat, tears, and blood. That's the only way to survive in this world."

Arvish shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe that someone could be so callous, so willing to exploit the vulnerable for their own gain.

Gorgon leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Don't judge me, Arvish," he said, his voice turning cold. "You're no different from me. You just hide behind your ideals and your morality. But when push comes to shove, you'll do whatever it takes to survive."

Arvish opened his mouth to argue, but then he hesitated. He realized that Gorgon was right. He had made compromises in the recent past, done things that he wasn't proud of, all in the name of survival.

As he sat there, lost in thought, Gorgon leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. He knew that he had made Arvish unsure. But he wasn't trying to make him feel bad. He wanted to make him scared. Scared people give up their ideals for survival, and he wanted to keep him close to him. At least for a short time till he gets the something that he needs from him.

"And you, my friend, could be a greatly appreciated member of our group if you're interested," Gorgon said, his eyes flashing with intensity.

Arvish wiped his mouth and leaned back in his chair, considering the offer. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he was in the wrong place.

"Did you happen to send a drone recently into Eferdom?" he asked, hoping to glean some information.

Gorgon looked puzzled. "Drone? We don't use technologies like that. Just metal, diesel, and gunpowder. Only things that were used in a better life back in the days. Technologies are only needed for the weak to gain power."

Arvish's heart sank. He had come to the wrong place, a place where freedom was created in a way that he didn't find appealing. He looked up at Gorgon, who was eyeing his metal arm with a strange, unsettling smile.

"Hey, your arm is quite something. Can I take a look at it?" Gorgon asked.

Arvish was taken aback for a second, but after it, he knew what's happening. He took a swig of whiskey to steady his nerves. "It's combined with me. I can't just take it off and on as I like."

Gorgon's smile widened. "Oh, I see. That's a shame," he signaled to one of his handmaids to pour him another drink. The woman spilled a little out of the bottle by accident. Gorgon face twitched. She froze with horror.

"I'm sorry, my master," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Gorgon was silent for a couple of moments, his eyes fixed on the woman. Then he waved her off dismissively.

"But you're still welcome to stay with us, Arvish. I see a lot of potential in you. You could make a name for yourself with us."

"Well, thank you, you are very kind," Arvish replied.

Arvish wasn't sure what to make of Gorgon's offer. On the one hand, he was grateful for the hospitality, but on the other, he didn't know if he could survive in a world where brute force was king.

Gorgon snapped his fingers and pointed to one of his girls. "You take Arvish to our special tent, that's for our guests," he said. "You can get some rest, and we'll continue this tomorrow."

The girl bowed and gestured for Arvish to follow her toward the entrance of the tent.

Arvish grabbed a handful of potatoes and followed her.

Gorgon watched as Arvish left the tent.

Turning his attention to the woman who remained in the tent, he pointed at her and said, "Call Bezix here," he grinned, "I have a job for him."