The first order of business in the aftermath of the chaotic battle was the rounding up of the surviving enemy members who were still within the building. They were handled with a cold, systematic efficiency, led to the second-floor demonstration room where they were placed under guard with their hands bound.
Most of the rank-and-file had managed to flee into the night during the initial retreat, leaving behind around forty or so people who had been apprehended. These were mostly the ones who were already too severely injured to have made it out of the area in the first place, groaning on the floor as they were secured. Following this, the core members of the Gilt Rats—the primary leadership and the high-ranking scientists—as well as the fallen heavy-hitters Darius and Jett, were brought up to the main hall to face their judgment.
They were lined up on the stage side by side, a row of defeated titans, but there was one glaring absence that immediately drew Max’s attention.
"I’m sorry," Aron said, stepping forward and bowing his head in a rare show of contrition. "I thought for sure he was too injured to move. I tied him up myself, but I should have known better than to underestimate his resilience."
Max looked at the empty space where their most troublesome opponent should have been. "It seems he was quite a tough opponent," Max said, his voice level. "And in the tone of your voice, although you’re truly sorry, it’s almost as if you’re not surprised that he managed to escape."
The person in particular who was gone was Skull. Apparently, when the group had been consolidating their victory and running up the stairs together through the gym, the space where Skull had been left was empty. It was an expected complication, and if anything, Aron was worried about what would happen next. Without the Gilt Rats to anchor him, where would a man like Skull go? Would his disappearance end up bringing them more trouble in the future, just as they both had predicted?
Max turned his attention back to the prisoners on the stage, his mind already shifting to the logistics of the takeover.
"We do what we did before," Max stated, addressing his inner circle as much as the defeated leaders. "We’ll absorb the Black Hounds and the Gilt Rats’ businesses. We are taking control of every asset, every shell company, and every ledger they have. None of you will be allowed to leave until the paperwork is finalized and the transfers are complete.
"As for the members of your groups, they have a choice: they can agree to become part of the Billion Bloodline group under the same conditions as always, or they can refuse and find themselves no longer a part of anything in this city. In order to keep the business operations moving, Darius and Jett, as long as you two are willing, you can come under us. Just like you were under the Gilt Rats, you keep your operations going as they had been—but now, we are at the top."
Max paused, his gaze shifting to the scientists. "But unfortunately for you guys, I can’t say the same."
When Max turned his head, he was looking directly at Ramon and the rest of the researchers. The air in the hall grew heavy.
"You should know this better than anyone, Ramon. You were the boss of the Gilt Rats. The bigger a group becomes, the harder it is for one person to control. That’s why so many empires fell in the past. You were once their leader; they have rallied behind you and they have a deep loyalty to you. To keep you in a position of power within my organization would be the perfect setup for betrayal and a backstab. The logical thing to do, the safest thing, would be to kill you right here."
True, unadulterated fear could be seen in the eyes of the other researchers, their faces turning pale as they realized the precariousness of their lives. Only Ramon remained stoic. Max knew that logically, execution was the best option to prevent a future uprising.
"However," Max continued, "my goal, similar to yours, doesn’t just stop here. I think there might still be a use for your specialized skills. My idea is to lock all of you up. I know you have strong connections in this city, so your confinement wouldn’t be here where you could be easily liberated. I’m sure I know a few people who can help out with a more secure location.
"While locked up, you will be given a certain level of freedom that will allow you to continue your research. I won’t be able to provide as much funding as you have been giving yourselves, so you’ll have to make the best of what you can do with limited resources. This is the only other option I’m giving you. You can decide to disagree, of course, but then that will mean death."
Honestly, there was a large part of Max that expected Ramon to choose death. Leaders who reached the heights of syndicates and empires were rarely the type to follow under someone else’s banner; many would rather die than submit to a rival. That pride was often what allowed them to reach such positions in the first place.
But at the same time, as long as one was still alive, there was a chance to hold onto something. There was hope. And Max suspected there was a specific spark of hope in Ramon, especially regarding his obsession with those who had created the Invitation.
Ramon looked up, his eyes meeting Max’s with a newfound intensity. He didn’t ask for mercy or for his freedom.
"Randy Stern..." Ramon said, the name hanging in the air like a heavy weight. "Look into him for me. Do that, and you have a deal."
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