Kurogai stood across from Wade and asked directly, "Do you want to make a deal?"
Blackwood's goal was simple: he needed carbon steel, but more than that, he wanted the source of it. He didn't expect Wade to know for sure, but it was worth a try. If Wade could point him in the right direction, the risk would be worth it.
Wade narrowed his eyes, suspicion clear on his face. "Talk first," he said. "Then I'll decide whether to cooperate. You've always been a bastard." He sneered but admitted, grudgingly, that dealing with Kurogai might have some value.
Kurogai smirked without warmth. "Careful, or I'll seal your mouth shut again." Wade froze, then covered his mouth dramatically. He remembered the last time all too well and didn't want to repeat it.
"I know the layout of this prison," Kurogai said calmly. "The guards, their shifts, the weak spots. I can give you everything. In exchange, you tell me where those two knives you carry were forged."
Wade scoffed. "You think I'm going to lose money? I can track prisoners myself. I don't trade away value for nothing. You don't know how broke I am—I don't make bad deals."
Kurogai stayed patient. He knew Wade was bluffing. Wade cared more about information than money when something obsessed him. Those knives weren't ordinary blades—Kurogai had studied their strange patterning under ultraviolet light. They were rare, valuable, and Wade wouldn't give up their secret easily.
"Fine," Kurogai said. "You're looking for someone, aren't you? A doctor named Ajax, the one who did that to you. I can find him. And when I do, I'll bring him to you."
Wade's face lit up instantly. "Name your price. If you can deliver that bastard to me, I'll give you whatever you want. Anything."
Kurogai nodded. "When I find him, I'll come to you." He touched Wade's shoulder and quietly placed a tracking mark on him. Then he turned back to his real objective—the prison.
He wasn't here for Wade. He was here for prisoners, specifically death row inmates. They were perfect for his experiments. No one would miss them. Wade's chaos would provide the distraction he needed.
Wade, eager to be involved, suggested, "You want to stir trouble in there? Let me go first."
Kurogai gave him a faint smile. "Go ahead. Your fight and my work aren't the same." Wade liked to think he controlled the score, and Kurogai let him believe it.
Before Wade could respond, a golden circle appeared beneath his feet, and light swallowed him up. He vanished into the prison compound, dropped into the middle of chaos. Furious, Wade cursed and charged forward, alarms blaring as guards rushed to stop him. Kurogai smirked. This was exactly what he wanted—Wade as the bait.
Kurogai activated his cloak, his body flickering into a blur, and slipped past cameras and barriers. He moved toward the death row block with calm precision.
At the first cell, he checked his sleeve for the data. "Albert, convicted murderer." With a pulse of power, the lock snapped. The prisoner laughed wildly at his sudden freedom. Kurogai wasted no time, placing a sigil on his eyes that froze his movements and bent him to his will.
Kurogai moved from cell to cell, repeating the process. "Caroline," he muttered at the next door. One by one, prisoners fell under his control. What should have been chaos became an eerie march of silent inmates following orders.
By the time Wade had the guards fully occupied, Kurogai had gathered about four hundred prisoners. It was a grim parade, each one subdued and bound by his control. Four hundred was a strong start, he thought. If he needed more, he could target another prison later.
As he prepared to leave, Wade stumbled back into view, panting and chased by officers. Guards stormed past him, still focused on the trouble he caused, while Kurogai readied his transport. His work was cold, cruel, and efficient—but it worked. He wasn't here for morals. He was here for results.
"You kept your end," Wade gasped.
"I'll keep mine," Kurogai replied flatly. The tracking mark on Wade's shoulder pulsed, a reminder of the promise between them.
With the guards distracted, Kurogai led the controlled prisoners toward the extraction point. Sirens blared, lights flashed red, but the operation ran like clockwork. As the containment system pulled the inmates toward his ship, Kurogai glanced back at the prison only once. Wade's face carried both hatred and gratitude.
Kurogai adjusted his collar and turned away, already planning his next experiment.
_____
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