"There will be no discussion of numbers."
Samuel’s words fell like a thunderclap in the room.
For the first time that night, Umal’s face went slack, the smug curl of his lips vanishing in an instant. The way his expression shifted from self-assured to rattled was nearly comical.
"What are you talking about?" he demanded, his voice dropping in dangerous disbelief.
Samuel simply nodded toward Xander’s horrifying remains on the floor. His skull lay cracked open, the blood pooled thickly beneath his corpse.
"Someone just died because of your product."
Umal scoffed. "That’s the point," he countered, regaining his composure. "Besides, you were the one who provided the victim."
Samuel, still staring at Xander’s body, clenched his jaw. The sickening and haunting sound of his death still echoed in his ears, playing in a repeat in his head. He had seen killings before—he had even ordered them —but this? This was
beyond a simple execution, it was inhuman.
Samuel gestured toward the tester, who was still in his euphoric, frenzied high. "That thing isn’t a man anymore, but a beast."
Umal only smiled, a knowing, dangerous look.
But Samuel wasn’t finished.
"Even in the underworld, there are limits. If this is what Ignis turns a man into, then anyone who touches it could go on a rampage and harm innocent bystanders, my men, and turn District One into a war zone."
"Moreover, just because the government has given up on District One doesn’t mean they don’t still watch. A drug that grants superhuman strength and causes near-instant addiction?" He scoffed. "That’s an open invitation for both the authorities and the Alpha King to crack down on us. And do you know what that means for us?"
He didn’t wait for Umal to answer. He did it himself.
"It means total destruction of the Red Dragon gang. We’ve survived this long by keeping our heads down. I’d like it to continue that way."
Although his words left no room for argument, Umal offered a thin, unruffled smile. "No road to greatness is easy. There’ll be casualties along the way, but what matters is who stands victorious at the end."
He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease despite the growing hostility in the room. "I’m not just here to sell you a drug, Samuel." His voice lowered, almost seductive in its persuasion. "I’m here to offer you power. One that could change the entire fate of District One, if not the whole world."
Samuel’s expression remained unreadable, but his fingers tapped the table contemplatively. Umal took his silence as an invitation to continue.
"This is the first batch of production. Perhaps with a little more modification, we could reduce the violent outbursts."
"That’s a joke," One of Samuel’s men scoffed. "There’s no such thing as modification, a drug’s a drug. All it needs is the slightest nudge, and your so-called super-users unleash their baser instincts."
Umal waved off the complaint. "Then we sell to those who can control their baser instincts. We don’t push this onto commoners, they’re too unpredictable. Instead, we market it to those in power. The rich. The elite. Those who have everything to lose if they lose control."
He continued. "Imagine these wealthy men, business moguls, politicians, even officers getting their hands on this. They have a public image to maintain, meaning they can’t afford to cut loose and show their darker urges in view. Not when it would destroy their carefully built empires. So we’d keep Ignis off the open market at first and pick the clientele carefully."
Samuel scoffed, unimpressed. "Yes, and when the government catches a whiff, have you forgotten that part?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.
"And did you forget what I just said?" Umal’s own voice rose in challenge. "I said richer districts. With withdrawals so severe, addicts will do anything for another fix, including offering you protection, and even killing your enemies. And by the time the government realizes what’s happening, you’ll have built a drug empire so powerful, they’ll have no choice but to tread carefully."
Like a war general with a map, Umal pressed on, pointing at the tabletop for emphasis. "That’s how you avoid scrutiny of District One. Let the other districts take the hits, while you funnel Ignis in from behind the scenes. No other supplier has it, so you monopolize the market. Demand explodes, your coffers runneth over, and by the time any government or Alpha king tries to push back, you’ll be too strong to dislodge."
Samuel’s men looked at one another and while some showed cautious, intrigued looks, others were still repulsed by the memory of Xander’s slaughter. It was a room divided, that much was clear.
Finally, Samuel spoke.
"You make a fair argument," he admitted. "But what about my safety? Titan’s safety?" His eyes darkened. "You’re conveniently ignoring what might happen if my own men get bright ideas, like doping themselves with this stuff for some power grab. A scenario like that spells internal chaos. Anyone with a shot of Ignis might think they can overthrow me. I’d have factions at war in my own house."
Umal’s lips pressed into a thin line.
"I told you the supply would be strictly controlled."
"And how the hell do I enforce that?" Samuel challenged, voice rough with anger. "A single crate goes missing or a middleman strikes a side deal, and suddenly, half my foot soldiers are hopped up on your rocket fuel. And aside from the gruesome display you just gave us, you haven’t even mentioned the other side effects."
Samuel told him. "I’ve seen plenty of drugs in my time. And anything that grants this much power is unnatural. There’s always a price. Yes, the brutal withdrawal fosters dependence but it can also kill users before they even become profitable repeat customers."
Samuel shook his head, "A dead clientele is not a loyal clientele. Ignis would damage our reputation. It would ruin any chance at long-term revenue. And I intend to do long term."
He then stood up, saying with a tone of finality. "Ignis might bring a huge profit, but it’s not worth the trouble. The wolves fought the government once and lost. I won’t give them or the authorities a reason to bring that fight to my doorstep." He paused, voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "I see through you and whoever’s pulling your strings. We won’t be pawns for your secret war."
Umal’s eyes burned with offense, his pride wounded. "Red Dragon isn’t the only gang in District One," he said, a sneer tugging at his lips. "I only came to you because you control the largest territory, but if you’re too cowardly, the others will jump at this."
Samuel barked a mocking laugh. "Then let them. Only fools leap at a ticking bomb...." He trailed off.
Suddenly, Samuel glanced aside at one of his men when a persisting noise from the background became too much.
"Phillip, go shut those damned dogs up."
Indeed, for the past few minutes, the guard dogs outside had been barking incessantly, growing steadily louder with each passing second.
"Yes, boss." Phillip slipped out, leaving the tension in the room thick as blood.