The alley reeked of piss, oil, and something coppery. Anthony stepped out of the car, adjusting the cuffs of his white suit, as if he belonged in a five-star restaurant instead of the filth-coated backstreets. A muffled groan echoed from ahead, cut off abruptly. Someone was already being reminded of their place.
Nine walked beside him, hands in his coat pockets, moving with the same measured calm that made the city pause when he appeared.
"Who are we visiting?" Anthony asked, voice casual, playful.
Nine's gaze swept the alley to the rusted doors of a storage facility. "A man who thought he could move product through my city without paying."
Anthony clicked his tongue. "Amateur mistake."
"That's what I thought."
The side door creaked open. Dim yellow bulbs flickered overhead, casting uneven shadows across the concrete floor. Inside, two men loomed over a third, tied to a chair. His face was swollen, lip split, gasping raggedly. Blood and sweat streaked his skin.
Nine stepped forward, silent. He crouched before the beaten man.
The guy tried to lift his head. "Number Nine…"
"You know," Nine said, voice low, calm, "I get tired of these conversations." He exhaled smoke from a lit cigarette, letting the tendrils curl lazily into the stagnant air. "You step on my business. I give you a chance to fix it. You ignore me. And now… here we are."
Anthony's eyes flicked to the man, then back to Nine. A grin formed.
"Go ahead," Nine said. "Show me what you do."
Anthony crouched slowly, his grin widening. He examined the man like a cat inspecting a cornered bird—curious, detached, hungry for reaction.
"Was it worth it?" Anthony asked. Calm. Gentle, almost.
"I—I didn't think—" the man stammered.
Anthony cut him off with a laugh. "There's the problem. You didn't think."
A sharp crack echoed. The man screamed, head jerking against the restraints. Anthony's movements were precise. Methodical. Controlled. He snapped another finger. Another scream.
Nine inhaled, smoke curling around his calm expression.
Anthony's white suit stayed immaculate. Every detail controlled. Every gesture deliberate.
"You're enjoying this," Nine said finally.
Anthony tilted his head, mock innocence in his grin. "I told you to handle it."
"You understand the difference between handling and playing?" Nine's voice was steel beneath calm.
Anthony's grin didn't falter. "Absolutely."
Another snap. Another scream. The room smelled of blood and sweat. The man's body trembled. His fingers twisted in unnatural angles.
Vince, one of Nine's enforcers, shifted uneasily near the door. He'd seen beatings before. But Anthony's calm, surgical cruelty put him on edge. This wasn't some reckless kid. This was deliberate.
Nine stepped forward at last. "Enough." His voice cut through the tension like a blade.
Anthony exhaled dramatically, stretching, as if he'd just finished a workout. "Damn. I was getting into it."
The man whimpered, head drooping. Nine crouched, cigarette tip glowing, ashes falling to the floor.
"This is what's going to happen," Nine said. "You pay your debt. In full. By the end of the week." He gestured to Vince and the other enforcer. "They'll let you limp out so you can make it happen."
The man nodded weakly, eyes unfocused.
Nine stood. "Walk with me."
Anthony followed without hesitation. As soon as the door closed behind them, Nine moved. His hand shot out, gripping Anthony by the collar, slamming him into concrete.
Anthony laughed. A low, delighted chuckle. Not nervous. Not forced. Genuine.
"Interesting," Anthony said, smirking. "Gonna strangle me, boss?"
Nine's grip tightened slightly. "You enjoyed that too much."
Anthony shrugged, unfazed. "You told me to handle it."
"Handling a problem isn't the same as toying with it," Nine muttered, letting him go.
Anthony straightened his suit, rolling his shoulders like nothing had happened.
"You ever kill someone before?" Nine asked, tone flat, observing.
Anthony's smirk didn't waver. "Not yet."
Nine exhaled slowly, letting the words settle. "You ever pull that kind of shit on someone who didn't deserve it, and I'll put a bullet in your head myself."
Anthony placed a hand over his chest, mock reverence. "Oh, boss, you really do care."
Nine shook his head, turning toward the exit. "Come on. I need a drink."
Anthony grinned, following. "Now that, I can get behind."
The alley outside felt colder. The city hummed around them. But inside Anthony, Nine had just witnessed something rare: potential. Dangerous, chaotic, but precise.
And that potential was going to make the city interesting.