The rain did not merely fall; it clung to every surface, turning the narrow streets of London into streams of reflected light. Puddles rippled as cars passed, their headlights carving temporary paths through the fog. In the distance, the rhythmic wail of sirens rose and fell like the city's own heartbeat. The air smelled of wet asphalt, petrol, and the faint trace of smoke rising from unseen chimneys.
Richard moved like a shadow beneath it all, coat pulled close, head slightly bowed, his pace neither hurried nor slow. He did not avoid the light, nor did he seek it. Instead, he slipped through the gaps between lamp posts, where the glow faded and the city's darker rhythm thrived. Coeus and Hera flew silently above, their wings cutting the mist like predators circling their prey.
Tonight, his focus was not on expanding the gang's reach.
Not on the territory. Not on smuggling.
Tonight, his target wore a badge.
The Firm had flourished under his guidance, their once-chaotic structure sharpened into a precise machine. They controlled docks, monitored the streets, and moved goods so smoothly that rivals barely had time to notice the shift. But control like this attracted eyes, the wrong kind of eyes. And Richard had no intention of letting those eyes see too clearly.
He had spent the last week observing, blending into the city's undercurrent. Every evening, he tracked the same routes: quiet neighbourhoods with flickering streetlamps, the market square where drunkards stumbled after midnight, the alleys where criminals traded goods in the shadows. The police patrols moved like clockwork, predictable patterns born of routine and complacency.
But not him.
Sergeant Alan Crowe.
The name itself carried weight in the whispers Richard caught. A man with a reputation for noticing what others missed.
Crowe drove slower than the others, his eyes constantly scanning windows, doorways, and the most minor shifts in shadow. He stopped to talk to shopkeepers, asked questions, and, more importantly, remembered the answers. The other officers mocked his thoroughness, but Richard saw it for what it was: vigilance.
The sergeant was dangerous, not because he was incorruptible, but because he still believed his job mattered. That belief could make him a problem. Or it could make him useful.
Richard had watched him long enough to see the cracks behind the pride. A slight weariness in his shoulders, the way his hands lingered over paperwork as if it weighed more than it should, the frown that creased his brow when speaking to superiors. The man still cared, but he was tired.
Tired men were easier to bend.
Tonight, the decision would be made. Either Crowe would fall in line, or Richard would remove him from the board entirely.
Richard waited at the corner of a deserted street near the docks, his coat pulled close, the brim of his cap shadowing his face. Coeus and Hera perched unseen on the ledge above, their presence a silent comfort in the dark.
"He's coming," Coeus' smooth voice whispered in his mind.
Hera's tone was sharper, amused. "This one smells of pride. Break him."
The slow hum of an approaching patrol car broke through the rainfall. The vehicle rolled past, headlights cutting through the mist. Richard followed from a distance, his steps measured, until he saw Crowe park and step out, flashlight cutting arcs through the rain-slicked air.
With a subtle push of his will, Richard reached into the man's thoughts, not deeply, just enough to tug at the edges. A nudge here, a suggestion there. Crowe hesitated, then turned, as if suddenly deciding to check the alley Richard had chosen.
The sergeant's boots splashed in the puddles as he walked down the narrow lane behind a warehouse, his beam of light cutting through the shadows. The alley was empty, save for the boy who stood at its end, waiting.
"Evening, Sergeant," Richard said softly, his voice carrying despite the rain.
Crowe froze, his hand instinctively going to the grip of his weapon. "Who the hell are you?"
Richard stepped forward slowly, calm, his presence almost unreal in the dim light. "Someone who can make your job… easier. Or harder, depending on how this conversation goes."
Crowe's eyes narrowed, suspicion warring with curiosity. "You threatening me, kid?"
"No." Richard's tone was smooth, disarming. "I'm offering you a choice. You patrol these streets, you've seen what they're like. Chaos. Crime everywhere. You can't stop it. Not alone."
The sergeant sighed.
"Ok, kid, enough speaking, you need to get home, your Mum is probably worried sick."
Richard continued, his voice weaving like silk. "What if I told you these streets can be… managed? Kept under control. Fewer problems. Fewer calls. And you'll look good doing it. All I ask is that you look the other way when needed."
Crowe's eyes narrowed. "Who are you working for? You know, threatening an officer can get you in a lot of trouble, right?"
"You keep your badge clean. You get results. No one needs to know how."
Crowe's patience started to wane. "Ok, enough, come here."
Crowe walked up to Richard, grabbed his collar, and dragged him out of the alley. Just before he could exit, Richard's words reached his ears.
"Nancy."
"What did you just say?" Crowe said, turning his head 180, his eyes narrowing.
"Daisy."
"Who's that?" Crowe said, in increasing intensity.
"James."
"Answer me! Who are they?" Crowe said, demanding an answer.
"You know. Nancy, 34 years old, works as a clerk at Martin's. Has two children, Daisy, 6 years old. And James, 4 years old. She also has a husband, Alan Crowe, 36 years old."
Crowe's grip loosened, and his face went pale.
"You have a family, a beautiful one, really. Nancy's hair is a nice brown, and Daisy and James' eyes are the spitting image of yours, ocean blue." Richard said while wiping his jacket and smoothing out its creases.
"I know, you like your job, but it's so tiring keeping it in order. We can help you with that. Extra money, protection of your family, and more time spent with your family. There's so much we can help you with."
Crowe, calming himself down, spoke, "And who is this we?"
"Just a small, harmless gang. The Firm. All we need you to do is look away at the right time; we can take out some other gangs, make your job a bit easier."
Crowe, jaw clenched. His pride in his work and the desire for an easy experience battled each other in his mind.
"And what, I'm supposed to talk to a child about this?" Crowe said incredulously.
"Hey, don't shoot the messenger, I'm just here to tell you about you're two paths ahead," Richard said with a slight chuckle.
"And what are those paths?" Crowe asked.
"One, you go to this location at twelve p.m.," Richard said, handing a folded piece of paper to Alan.
"And two, you die."
Crowe's head snapped up.
"What? You're threatening a sergeant of all people." Crowe's eyes swirled with disbelief.
"Remember, Alan. Nancy, Daisy, James." Richard repeated.
Crowe's earlier disbelief faded, and the realisation dawned on him.
Crowe stood still as his thought congealed into one word.
"Ok."
"Goodbye then," Richard said while waving and walking away.
He turned the corner. Crowe stayed frozen for a moment, then finally backed out of the alley, his mind buzzing.
The rain poured harder, each drop tapping against the metal of the dumpsters and the slick pavement like the ticking of a clock. The alley seemed to hold its breath as the meeting hung in the balance.
Crowe exhaled slowly, watching Richard's back as he walked away, his silhouette melting into the mist. He glanced over his shoulder, as though expecting to see someone watching. Nothing. Only the rain.
Richard did not look back. His pace remained steady, coat fluttering slightly as the wind funnelled through the narrow lane. Above, Coeus and Hera swooped silently from their perch, their twin forms slicing through the mist to follow him.
"That was pleasantly easy," Coeus murmured into Richard's mind, her tone a silky whisper.
"He gave up so easily," Hera added with a laugh like broken glass.
Richard didn't reply. His eyes were fixed ahead, his mind already moving to the next steps. The sergeant's compliance would spread like an unseen network, police patrols would look the other way, investigations would stall, and any threats to his operations would dissolve before they reached him. Crowe didn't realise how deeply the suggestion had rooted itself.
Behind him, Crowe shook the rain from his jacket, his jaw tight. He would write tonight's patrol log like nothing happened, but when he thought about that boy's voice, calm and confident, it echoed through him.
By the time Richard reached the edge of the district, the storm had softened to a drizzle, the city glittering with wet lights. A car waited at the curb, a discreet black one, he had arranged for tonight. The door opened without a word.
Richard slipped inside, the warmth of the interior washing over him. The driver didn't ask questions; he only pulled away from the curb, the city blurring past in streaks of neon and shadow.
As they drove through the rain-slick streets, Richard leaned back, hands clasped, his face unreadable. The pieces were falling into place: the gang, the streets, and now law enforcement. Each thread strengthened the web.
When they finally returned to the estate, the sky was streaked with the faintest hint of dawn. Richard stepped out, the wet gravel crunching under his shoes. Coeus and Hera swooped down from above, perching on the gate as if they had been waiting all night.
"That was a productive night," Coeus said softly, her eyes glinting violet in the faint light.
Hera let out a low, amused growl. "We should have eaten him."
Richard gave no answer, only the faintest curve of a smile as he walked up the house's steps. The door closed behind him, sealing the night's work in silence.
London slept on, unaware that it was no longer its own.
In his study, the scent of ink and aged paper greeted him. The desk was clean save for a single stack of reports Rupert had left, documents detailing the latest operations, investments, and the progress of The Firm. He skimmed the pages with sharp eyes, every figure committing itself to memory.
When he closed the last folder, he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. The city lights flickered beyond the tall windows, distant but clear.
Coeus tilted her head, watching him. "What are you thinking about, Father?"
Hera's grin was audible in her voice. "Probably thinking about eating up the world."
Richard's gaze darkened slightly as he spoke, his tone low, deliberate.
"Smuggling will expand. I'll need new routes, safer ones, faster ones. The docks are secure, but I want a second network in place before anyone even thinks to interfere. That's one task."
He stood, pacing slowly toward the window as the city stretched out beneath him.
"Second, we need influence in the courts. Money moves men, but power solidifies them. There are judges, clerks, officials, and small people who make big decisions. They will bend, or they will break."
Coeus' eyes gleamed. "More strings to pull."
"Third," Richard continued, his voice sharpening, "The Firm must evolve again. Smuggling and enforcement won't be enough. They'll branch into information gathering, selling, and controlling. It also needs its own clean business, probably a club. That would fit its image."
Hera purred, pleased. "Dogs with sharper teeth. I like it."
He turned back to the desk, his expression unreadable, his voice softening to something almost thoughtful. "Lastly… I want the financial sector tightened. Rupert's doing well, but our reach needs to extend beyond local markets. Investments, stocks, and banking ties in other cities. We need more contacts, connections and favours."
He returned to his chair, his fingers tracing the edge of the ledger. The tasks were clear, each one a piece on the board, each one another step toward the empire he envisioned.
"The web expands," Coeus whispered.
"And when it's complete," Hera said with a hiss of satisfaction, "there will be no one left to escape it."
Richard's smile was faint. He decided, having not looked at it in a while, to open his system.
'Status'
[FAMILY SYSTEM]
________________________________
Name: Richard Anderson Russo Magus
Age: 12
Race: Homo Magi
House: Magus
House Crest: -><-
House Motto: Non ducor, duco
Position: Patriarch
Allegiance: N/A
Alliance: N/A
Family Tree: -><-
Total Family Members: 1
________________________________
Wives: 0
Concubines: 0
Main line descendants: 0
Branch line descendants: 0
________________________________
Bloodline: Magus
Traits: -><-
________________________________
Talents: -><-
Affinities: -><-
________________________________
House Structure: -><-
House Wealth: -><-
________________________________
[Recognition: N/A]
[Reputation: N/A]
________________________________
Family Familiars: -><-
________________________________
Compatibility Index: -><-
________________________________
Tasks: -><-
________________________________
Body: 20.67
Mind: 39
Soul: 33.67
Mana: 15052
________________________________
Strength- 20
Dexterity- 21
Constitution- 21
Intelligence- 39
Wisdom- 39
Spirit- 39
Charisma- 32
Charm- 30
________________________________
His stats had increased steadily, and his mana was rising nicely.
Richard's eyes wandered through his system, clicking through all of it, checking if there was anything different. He found it in his Task Panel; multiple new ones had appeared.
[System Task: Pillars of Continuance]
[Issued: July 1, 1947]
[Deadline: Indefinite]
[Duration: Indefinite]
[Objective:]
[You have crossed into a new stage of growth. Puberty has begun, and with it, the full capacity to sire children and extend your legacy.]
[The System has identified four pivotal milestones - the First Bond, the First Accord, the First Heir, and the First Branch - that will shape the genetic, spiritual, and symbolic foundation of House Magus.]
[These subtasks will be completed when their conditions are met.]
[The System will record all outcomes as you lay the pillars upon which House Magus shall stand.]
[Subtasks:]
[Subtask I] - [The First Bond]
[Task: Marriage to your first wife.]
[Rewards: Revealed upon completion.]
[Subtask II] - [The First Accord]
[Task: The taking of your first concubine.]
[Rewards: Revealed upon completion.]
[Subtask III] - [The First Heir]
[Task: Birth of your first main line child.]
[Rewards: Revealed upon completion.]
[Subtask IV] - [The First Branch]
[Task: Birth of your first branch line child.]
[Rewards: Revealed upon completion.]
"Well, that's interesting. I would say that's a little too early, but I guess that's on brand for the system."
The clock ticked on, marking the end of one night and the beginning of a new chapter.
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