Ding ding.
Inside the brightly lit Shelby Villa, laughter echoed through marble halls, echoing like the sounds of victory.
In the study, a man in an expensive suit lounged on a velvet couch, swirling a glass of deep red wine in his hand. He was in a celebratory mood. Another family had fallen today—the Pengelle family, once one of the most powerful in Nacro City. Crushed under the heel of the Shelbys.
Now, all that remained was for Griffin to return with the head of their last orphan.
Then, true dominance would begin.
The thought of ruling Nacro City's entire underworld sent a chill of pleasure down Tom Shelby's spine. Soon, they'd be working with the Ten Elders—maybe even directly under one of them.
Tom raised his glass with a smug grin."The Shelby family will rise under my leadership," he said to himself. "We're on the verge of real power."
Just then, a suited man with dark sunglasses stepped into the room."Sir, Mr. Daniel is here."
Tom's smile brightened."Oh? He's arrived? Quickly, bring him in."
Moments later, a young man in his twenties entered the room. Tall, sharply dressed, and oozing arrogance.
Tom stood up, arms wide in welcome."Welcome, Lord Daniel!"
Daniel offered a glance, barely brushed Tom's outstretched hand, and let go. His cold, dismissive air made Tom's jaw twitch slightly—but he forced a smile and gestured toward the sofa.
Tom poured a glass of fine red wine and handed it over."Please enjoy, Lord Daniel. A Maru vintage—aged thirty years."
Daniel took the glass and sipped it without a word. No compliment. No reaction. His contempt was palpable—he didn't see Tom Shelby as anyone worth respecting.
Tom's eyes briefly flickered with anger, but he swallowed it. Daniel was the nephew of one of the Ten Elders—offending him meant suicide.
"Lord Daniel," Tom said in his most flattering tone, "We'd be honored to serve under your family. With your recommendation, the Shelbys are ready to become loyal subordinates."
He slid a check across the table—500 million.
Daniel's eyes lit up for the first time. Without hesitation, he pocketed the check, then gave Tom a patronizing pat on the shoulder."I'll speak to my cousin. He's the fourth son of Lord Hegel—one of the Elders. If he approves, your family will be listed as a direct subordinate under his banner."
His expression suddenly turned sharp."But don't forget—being a subordinate doesn't give you freedom. You exist to serve."
Tom nodded quickly."Of course. The Shelby family is ready to pledge loyalty to Lord Murphy. We'll support his ascension—whatever it takes."
Daniel chuckled."You? The Shelby family? A bunch of small-time thugs pretending to be royalty?"
He scoffed."Know your place. Your only value is how much you can pay my cousin."
Tom's fists clenched tightly behind his back. He had just conquered one of the largest rival families in the city. And yet, in his own home, he was being ridiculed like a lowly errand boy.
But he didn't react. Killing Daniel would mean bringing down the wrath of the Ten Elders—and worse, their elite enforcers. The Shadow Beasts.
So he forced a smile. Gritted his teeth. Endured.
After a bit more empty small talk, he sent Daniel off to the guest wing, eager to end the humiliating exchange.
Later, standing alone by the window, Tom gazed into the dark Nacro skyline with a glass in hand. His thoughts burned with ambition and frustration—until a knock at the door broke the silence.
"Come in," he called.
A nervous man in his thirties stepped in, sweat trailing down his face.
"My lord... urgent news."
Tom turned slowly."Well?"
The man swallowed hard."Griffin's unit... was ambushed. The entire team is dead."
Tom's grip on the glass tightened—then it shattered.
"What did you just say?" he snarled. His eyes blazed with fury, like a lion jolted from its slumber. "John, what the hell do you mean?!"
"We wiped out the Pengelles! Only stragglers were left! How could they pull off an ambush in our own city?!"
Tom reached into his desk, pulled out a golden pistol, and leveled it at John's forehead.
"You'd better explain yourself. Or you'll be joining Griffin."
"Yes—yes, sir!" John stammered, pale. "Witnesses say... it was one person. A survivor of the Pengelle family. They believe it was Vega. He set a trap and—killed Griffin himself."
Tom's face darkened like a thundercloud."That mongrel... Vega."
"I want him found. I want his head mounted on a spike. I want him to suffer before he dies!"
He slammed his fist on the desk."Send everyone. I want Vega's corpse on my desk before sunrise!"
"Yes, sir!" John turned and bolted from the room.
Outside, he yanked out his phone and barked orders to every Shelby-affiliated gang in the city:
"Vega. Find him. Block by block, alley by alley. I want him alive or dead—I don't care how. Bring him in!"
Within minutes, a wave of armed gangsters poured out of the Shelby Villa, engines roaring as dozens of vehicles surged into the night.
The hunt had begun.