The Gilt Rats was a name that had surfaced a few times already, and it was a name they needed to watch out for and understand well. Just as the White Tiger Gang reigned as the largest and most powerful Syndicate in Mancur City, the Gilt Rats held that same undisputed title in Notting Hill. In cities of this size, there was usually only room for one dominant Syndicate. While a major metropolis or a capital city might be divided into various sub-territories controlled by rival factions, Notting Hill was under a singular, iron-fisted rule.
In a way, this made them even more dangerous. In cities with multiple Syndicates, there was constant conflict and shifting alliances, which created gaps for smaller groups to exploit. But in a city controlled by only one Syndicate, a group far larger than any other, it was almost impossible for a new power to rise. If you were unlucky enough to catch their attention, you would be stomped out immediately before you could ever become a threat.
"Hey, those Gilt Rats... we’ve heard of them before, right?" Joe asked, rolling his shoulder to test his range of motion. It had been a few hours since his last fight, and his body was finally starting to feel like it was in good shape again. He was quite impressed by the Vow; even though he never wanted to experience that level of pain again, the super-healing abilities it provided were undeniable.
"I remember you saying something about them being a Syndicate gang, and that there are three levels of gangs," Joe continued. "Judging by that, aren’t they someone we want to avoid at all costs? Why would the Black Hounds even think the Gilt Rats would listen to them? We haven’t actually done anything to them, have we?"
The idea that they had done "nothing" wasn’t exactly true. They had already received a strong hint from Aron that something had been done to Evon, especially since Aron had stated that the man wouldn’t be an issue anymore. The group hadn’t pushed for specific details because they trusted that Aron would share what was appropriate when the time was right. However, Max had instructed everyone to keep quiet about the encounter for this very reason: if the Gilt Rats found out their members were being targeted, it would put a massive bullseye on the Billion Bloodline Group.
"I actually have to agree with my friend here," Max claimed, leaning forward. "Why would a Syndicate like the Gilt Rats lower themselves to help a group like the Black Hounds? The Hounds are a lower-tier group. Usually, asking a Syndicate for help would be seen as an insult to the smaller gang’s competence. In cases like these, a Syndicate might even turn around and support the other side instead."
Max narrowed his eyes. "At the end of the day, they aren’t the same organization. They only benefit from each other. Why should they stay loyal to the weaker side? Why wouldn’t they try to control the rising gang that is currently besting their ally, especially if there is no clear reason for them to choose sides?"
Vivian was quietly impressed. It was clear that Max had a sophisticated understanding of the current landscape and how these groups operated under pressure.
"You’re right about everything you just said, but that’s based only on the information you currently have," Vivian said, her voice cool. "The deal set up between the Black Hounds and the Gilt Rats was specific: the Hounds were allowed to run their fighting arenas as long as a massive percentage of the profits went directly to the Gilt Rats. Apparently, the Rats needed a huge influx of capital to fund their research, though we weren’t told the exact details of what they were working on."
The members of Max’s group exchanged quick glances. Was it a coincidence that Evon, a member of the Gilt Rats, possessed a mechanically powered arm that functioned flawlessly? They were beginning to get a very clear idea of exactly where that research money was being spent.
"Do you understand now?" Vivian continued. "You didn’t just raid some betting rings; you effectively stole their funding. You’ve near enough stopped their cash flow entirely. From my point of view, your actions suggest that you guys need quite a bit of money yourselves for some reason. If there is one thing you could do to stop the Gilt Rats from attacking you, it would be to give all that money back, and more, to compensate for the trouble you’ve caused."
There was no chance that Max would ever agree to that. His recent deal with Jett had been a one-off emergency situation to survive. Giving up his capital now would make Max incredibly weak and vulnerable in a world where wealth was directly tied to his physical strength. It was an impossible task; they had a better chance of fighting the Gilt Rats directly than they did of buying them off.
"Then I need to ask you some more direct questions, and I expect you to answer them truthfully," Max said, staring Vivian down. "Do you think you will be a useful bargaining chip as a hostage? Will they stop if we hold you?"
"Ha. Not a chance," Vivian replied instantly, without a shred of doubt.
"Then if it comes down to it, will you help us?" Max asked again. "In order to give us the best chance of taking out both the Black Hounds and the Gilt Rats, will you provide the intel we need?"
Max wasn’t expecting a purely honest answer, and even if she said yes, he knew he couldn’t fully trust her. She was a survivor first and foremost.
"It depends," she said simply. "When the time comes, I’ll side with whoever I think has a better chance of winning. I only care about one person, and that’s me."
While the conversation continued, Aron remained silent, his expression clouded with worry. He was thinking about a detail the others hadn’t focused on yet: the fact that at least one member of the Gilt Rats was also a member of the Black Hand.