Although it was always infinitely better for modern criminal organizations to try and do things in a much cleaner, corporate way, using lawyers, loopholes, and leveraged buyouts, at the end of the day, the fundamental way they had reached the high positions they currently occupied was usually by raw, unadulterated force.
That was the one undeniable similarity any syndicate or gang shared if they sat at the top of the food chain. They might have changed their outward ways over the years, laundering their money through legitimate businesses, or specialized in entirely different, white-collar crimes to stay off the radar, but at one point or another, they had all used brutal force. And the willingness to use that force was exactly what kept them at the top.
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the boardroom burst open.
Marching into the room were several broad-shouldered men. Strangely, they were all wearing crisp, white research lab coats, attempting to blend into the facility’s environment. But the way they moved, with heavy, aggressive steps and calloused hands hovering near their waistbands, betrayed their true nature immediately. As they entered, they quickly fanned out around the perimeter of the room. Within seconds, they had not just Bobo completely surrounded, but the rest of the traitorous board members trapped in their seats as well.
Panic instantly flared among the directors.
"Wait, wait a minute! We did exactly as you asked!" one of the older board members stammered, his eyes darting nervously between the imposing thugs and Ramon. "Why are they doing this? We voted with you!"
"Oh, relax," Ramon said smoothly, though his eyes were completely devoid of warmth. "In order for an unfortunate deadlock like this to never happen again, I’m going to need each and every one of you to formally sign your remaining shares over to me. Today."
He snapped his fingers, and one of the thugs tossed a stack of fresh, legally binding transfer documents onto the center of the table.
"And just in case any of you were thinking of fighting back or holding out for a better deal," Ramon continued, his voice dropping to a menacing purr, "well, these lovely people are here to remind you that saying ’no’ is no longer an option."
"That’s absolutely ridiculous!" the older board member yelled, springing up onto his feet, his face turning purple with indignation. "You gave us your word! You explicitly said that we would get a massive percentage of the profits when you eventually sold the technology! You promised that we could hold onto our equity even when you were the one officially in charge! Do you honestly think now that you’re forcing it out of our hands by gunpoint that we would be willing to just hand it over?!"
Before the old, bald man could even finish his defiant stance, the room erupted into violence.
One of the ’researchers’ standing directly behind him moved with terrifying speed. He stepped forward, grabbed a massive handful of the bald man’s collar and the back of his neck, and then viciously slammed his head down right into the solid mahogany table.
CRACK!
The man’s face had been slammed so incredibly hard, and with such absolute lack of hesitation, that the sickening sound of breaking cartilage echoed through the silent room. When the thug roughly lifted the man’s head back up by his collar, bright red blood could be seen splattered out across the polished wood and the white transfer documents, along with a single, bloody tooth.
The old man groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head, entirely senseless.
But right after the head was lifted, the Gilt Rat member was quick again. Without a word, he slammed the ruined face back down into the table a second time, leaving the man slumped and unmoving in a pool of his own blood.
The other board members shrieked and recoiled in their chairs, pressing themselves as far away from the violence as physically possible. Bobo clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle a scream, her entire body trembling violently.
"I sincerely hope that you are all quick to understand the reality of the situation you are currently in," Ramon said, casually pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at a microscopic speck of blood on his cuff. "Let’s make this easy, gentlemen. I would really hate to have to clean up so many bodies today and make this takeover job any harder than it needs to be. It has already been a very tough, stressful day dealing with that idiot on the screen, and I am absolutely not in the mood to discuss terms."
The other board members, staring at their bleeding colleague, had absolutely nothing else to say. They just sat there, utterly paralyzed by fear, their previous arrogance completely evaporated.
Ramon turned his attention back to the computer monitor, where Max’s unmasked face was still watching the carnage unfold.
"Although you are safely hiding and not here in person today, Max," Ramon claimed, pointing a threatening finger at the camera lens, "we will be coming after your ten percent next. Enjoy your temporary victory. Stay comfy in that little headquarters of yours. The building looked rather nice when I looked it up online. It will be a shame when it burns to the ground."
Bobo felt entirely defenseless in this horrific situation. Her mind raced frantically for a way out. She briefly thought that maybe calling the police was the right thing to do, but then she remembered how her own lawyer had exhaustively explained that it was useless.
Whoever this Gilt Rat group was that was trying to violently take over her facility, they had an immense amount of deep-rooted influence in this specific city. They owned the cops. They owned the judges.
There were some legal things that could technically be done. She could try having a trial moved to a federal court in another city entirely, a place where this specific syndicate group would have much less direct influence and bribery power.
But the critical issue was time. Knowing that something this violent was taking place right now, how would the other side react to the news of a lawsuit? They wouldn’t wait for a subpoena; they would just kill her in her sleep.
She felt utterly useless as she looked down at her trembling hands, preparing for the thugs to force a pen into them.
Until, suddenly, she heard screaming coming from the hallway outside.
"What are you doing?! Let go of me!" a panicked, unfamiliar voice yelled.
Before anyone inside the boardroom could react, the heavy double doors were blown wide open with explosive force.
When Bobo lifted her head in shock, she saw one of the men in a white lab coat, one of Ramon’s armed guards who had been stationed in the hall, literally flying backward over the long table. The man soared through the air and then crashed violently into the far wall, crumpling to the ground in a heap of broken bones.
It was one of Ramon’s own men.
When she looked back toward the doorway to see who was responsible for launching a grown man like a ragdoll, she could see a single person casually walk in.
He was a mountain of a man, possessing a physique that practically blocked out the light from the hallway. He was wearing a tight-fitting black tactical shirt, and printed squarely on the front of it was a distinct, bold logo: a crimson red diamond, with a stylized dollar sign sitting proudly in the center.
It was the official emblem of the Billion Bloodline group. And the massive man wearing it looked absolutely furious.
"Who the hell are you?!" Ramon demanded, his voice cracking slightly as he stumbled backward from the table, his confident facade shattering.
The two Gilt Rat thugs standing on either side of the room immediately rushed in to intercept the intruder. Some of them frantically reached into their jackets, pulling out heavy steel batons. With a battle cry, the first thug swung the metal rod directly at the giant’s head.
The large man simply lifted his thick forearm. As the heavy steel baton hit his body with a loud thwack, it seemed to do absolutely nothing. The man didn’t even flinch; it was as if he had been hit with a rolled-up newspaper.
When the second Gilt Rat person went to strike him low with a sweeping kick, the giant man simply reached down and caught their leg mid-air. He gripped the ankle with one massive hand. Instantly, the sickening, crunching sound of dozens of bones shattering in the foot could be heard, followed immediately by the thug’s agonizing screams.
Right after crushing the foot, the giant man effortlessly lifted the screaming person’s entire body into the air by his broken ankle. With a grunt of exertion, he swung the human weapon like a club and slammed him directly down into the center of the boardroom table, breaking the thick mahogany completely in half with a deafening crash.
Wood splintered, papers flew everywhere, and the remaining board members dove for the floor in sheer terror.
"What on earth is happening?!" Ramon screamed, scrambling backward over the broken wood.
"Good job, Na!" Max said cheerfully from the computer screen, completely unfazed by the sudden violence. "It looked like you managed to get there just in the nick of time."
Max leaned closer to his camera, a predatory smirk on his face as he looked at Ramon’s terrified expression.
"Did you really think we had absolutely no idea who we were dealing with today, Ramon? Did you think you were the only one who could play dirty? Of course, I was prepared for something exactly like this to happen."
Max’s eyes went cold. "And I want to tell you something else as well, Ramon, just so we are perfectly clear on the rules of engagement moving forward."
The distorted audio of the speaker filled the ruined room.
"You’re not just dealing with some sort of soft, legitimate venture capital company that you can bully into submission. We’re violent criminals as well!"