Suzaki patched me up. We solidified our plans as a group for the next couple of days.

Well, that was the excuse we used. Mostly we just got together and threw parties to celebrate life, even talking Kayson and Suzaki into coming along and dropping our worries—Suzaki had his first drink. We got in a couple of fist fights, as was inevitable with Bruno. But we avoided big trouble; no need to add fuel to the fire for the trial. Kayson hid it well, but I could tell the future stressed him out, so the most natural thing to do was to take his mind away from the problem. Besides, the outcome seemed inevitable.

The nightly partying let time pass by quickly. Life can come back and smack you in the face when you ignore it.

Before I knew it, Bruno was waking me on the day of the trial. I threw on my jacket. In relative silence, we rode out the Stalwart Immortal’s shrine since it was the defacto meeting place for this kinda thing. Bruno was awfully quiet, which was surprising, but after some examination, I felt the same.

I’d dedicated a year of my life to the Brass Kings. I’d bled, I’d fought, and I’d killed for this gang. These sorts of conflicts were inevitable on my journey as a cultivator, but that didn’t make it weigh less on the soul.

Now I was damaged without a way to fix my condition, facing ejection from the very gang I’d poured myself into. I wasn’t delusional. I wasn’t the only one who’d paid a high price—Bruno valued this shitty street gang more or less the same as me. Suzaki’s brother was still in it—but what could we do? I patted the big guy on the shoulder as we reached the hundreds of Brass Kings assembled for the trial.

People loved drama and blood baths.

Kayson sat at the front with his arms crossed; Eve and Suzaki weren’t far behind. The remaining captains lined up before the red lacquered shrine to the immortal. All seven of the Knights were present too. The woman with the dark ponytail who did the dirty work of chopping Tristan’s head off gave us a friendly wave. But the rest sat still with frozen expressions.

Suzaki kept glancing at one of the knights—a guy a couple of years older than me with a flat sword strapped to his back. He had none of the ridiculous adventuring gear of the other Knight I was familiar with. It didn’t take much to realize he was Suzaki’s brother. Unlike Suzaki, this guy bled a sense of danger that surprised me.

For ten more minutes, the Lieutenants arrived—and one late Captain. Then she arrived—the Viceroy. The crowd parted for her like a wave as they stood aside for her glory—to her right was the Marshal, a guy with short curly black hair and thin glasses. The Captains bowed their heads as she took her rightful spot at the head of the gathering. There were two noticeable gaps in the Captain’s ranks, and the Fourth and Seventh Division captains were nothing but scattered ashes by now.

A heavy spiritual pressure pressed down on the crowd—shutting everyone up. Now that I’d felt Romeo and Tristan’s—well, I found her intimidation tactic somewhat laughable. But those without Soul Seeds? It must have hit like a sucker punch.

“For those who haven’t been briefed. Or those living off whispers and gossip, I’ll sum up the events that called for this meeting.” Her voice cut across the crowd like a whip, every ear strained to listen. “First, our war with the Crimson Eagles is over. We can no longer afford a prolonged conflict with them—both from outside pressure and internally due to our sudden loss of two Captains. Additionally, the former Captain of the Fourth Division was discovered to have leaked vital information about our operations shortly before his betrayal and attempt on my life. I’ve been informed this information was distributed to both the Emerald Serpents and the Crimson Eagles.” She cleared her voice as her eyes swept over the few dumb enough to try to spark hushed conversations while she spoke.

She was in fine form, “What-a-bitch,” Eve mumbled next to me. I threw a hand over my mouth to hide the smile. Still, the Viceroy’s eyes landed on me and sneered.

“Furthermore, we’ve been dealing with other repercussions during the events of the Lantern Festival. Both the Sects and Segreto family are breathing down our necks. There have been rumors of loosened Spirit Beasts tied to us. Not to mention the confirmation of various fights we’re responsible for during the sacred festival. Tristan also did us the favor of leaking information about the Alchemist before his demise. Short to say, we will find our freedoms constrained for quite some time with this level of scrutiny.” The Viceroy folded her arms and spat on the ground.

There were more than a few uncomfortable clearing of the throats and angry muttering. This time, the Viceroy let the crowd work itself up.

Did I blame them? No. In our hearts, we were all delinquents. Street Rats that craved the freedom to do whatever the hell we wanted… Eyes burned into our squad. We were the survivors and no small part instigators of trouble that now haunted the gang.

The Viceroy pointed a finger at Kayson. “As of this moment, the Seventh Division is dissolved. They’ve caused enough trouble, and in light of their historic incompetence—except for saving my life—has led to this decision. Without a Captain to direct them and given their reduced numbers, it is better to consolidate our forces within six divisions.” More muttering. She let the drama play out a little longer. Eve was right. This lady was a stone-cold bitch. “As for Lieutenant Kayson and his squad, they are formally exiled from the Brass Kings. This decision has been made with the full backing of the Brass King himself. You will return your jackets and bow your heads.”

We’d known this was inevitable; we’d accepted the trial’s results ahead of time. But this wasn’t even a trial. More like public humiliation, taking our jackets was rare and one hell of an insult. We’d bled and earned them. I didn’t move to remove mine, even as Kayson shrugged off his and handed it to a Knight.

One by one, my friends gave up their jackets. Suzaki was the last—hesitating to look at his brother, who refused to meet his gaze. I saw a tear form in the corner of the poor kid’s eye.

That royally pissed me off. This whole thing was a fucking charade. We got paraded out here to be scapegoats for the gang and provide a nice cushy target for them to levy blame on, but what had we really done? We took down a goddamn traitor. We saved the Viceroy. This was our reward? To be thrown into shit so she could save face?

Captain Atkins hadn’t been perfect by any means, but she believed in raising this division. To dissolve it like this, in disgrace, was like spitting on her grave. The Viceroy scowled at me as I sat still. “Hand it over.” She called out, her shrill voice cutting through the crowd. My Soul was in a fucked state. Even if it wasn’t, I was no match for these Knights and the Viceroy.

I wasn’t about to let my friends get thrown under a fucking bus for this coward bitch’s pride.

“Where the fuck is the Brass King?” I asked, a ripple of whispers and discontent running through the crowd. “If he’s backing this decision, I want to hear him save it to my fucking face.”

“It doesn’t matter to you—hand over your jacket. You’ve caused enough trouble for this gang; the least you can do as a way of an apology is to walk away. Consider yourself lucky we’ve refrained from punishing you all as you deserve, worm.”

“No. Fuck that. We saved you. We took down the bastard who killed two of your Captains! This is how you pay us back? Treating us like we caused all this? We weren’t the ones who gave that psycho a loaded gun and let him run free with it! You were the one who trusted Tristan, gave him the rank of Capitan after he murdered the guy before him, and then folded over as easy-as-can-be and gave him a fucking alchemist; then ignored what he did with him. So. Tell me now. Where is the goddamn Brass King who sat by and let you do all of this stupid shit—“

Kayson set an arm on my shoulder, shaking his head. A couple of the Knights stepped forward, grim expressions on their face.

“You do not deserve to meet him.” The Viceroy said hate-filled that evil face of hers. We should have left her to Tristan.

“Then tell me! Who the fucks does deserve to meet him then? Have any of the Captains seen him? Have the Knights? Have you?” I gestured towards them.

Some refused to meet my eyes. Others held that same distaste of me as the Viceroy in their gaze. But some had that hint of curiosity, that burning natural human desire. No, they hadn’t. Not even the Knights. I’d never felt more confident.

The Viceroy snapped her fingers, and the Knight with the dark ponytail closed the distance to us; she had an apologetic look on her face. She leaned in to whisper, “Just hand it over, okay? I don’t wanna beat up the guy who helped me keep my head on my shoulders.” I stared at her.

Better to let it go.

But I wanted to know so fucking bad. Even though I was being tossed from this gang—one day, I’d get my answer. Which King sat on this fucked throne? It might not be today, but eventually, I’d find out who.

I took my coat off and threw it on the ground. A brief second of regret passed over me as I watched the Knight sigh and have to bend over to pick up after my tantrum. She returned to her place with the jacket. “As of this moment, Kayson Morse, Suzaki Tsumibito, Bruno Reichart, Eve Rosario, and Luca Cavicchi are exiled from the Brass Kings. No aid is to be offered to them. If you see them on the streets, do not say as much as a single kind word. However, I will not tolerate anyone harassing or attacking them—to us, they do not exist any longer.”

Cheers ran through the gang. Delinquents always got excited when blood was in the water, like sharks. “Out of my sight.” The Viceroy looked away. Kayson didn’t hesitate and called for us to go.

Fuck the Brass Kings. I didn’t need this gang; they did nothing for me. I had friends now, and that’s all I needed.

— ♤ - ♥ - ♧ - ♦ —

We sat around a table in a small bar, drinking all around. Not a single gang color in sight, but we were more united than ever. I shot Bruno a lopsided grin, cards flying from my hand and landing in piles in front of my friends. “Have a bad feeling for ya’ll, should fold now. Aint a single shot in hell ya break my hot streak,” I winked at Eve, and she scoffed.

“Your luck is shit, dumbass. I raise you ten spirit chips,” she slid the small pile into the middle; Suzaki paled at the gesture, looking down at his hands. I didn’t need that gambler’s sixth sense to tell that his hand was crap.

“I-I fold,” Suzaki mumbled, tossing his cards and sipping from a small fruity blue drink. Less booze in that than a beer, but hey, he wasn’t much a drinker. I smirked at him.

It was Kayson’s turn.

Our diligent leader did his research; his narrowed eyes considered his cards, then scanned our faces—Nuh-uh bozo. You might be able to read situations, but those eyes of you stood no chance of breaking my poker face. Kayson frowned before tossing his chips in. I felt that thrill run through me. Twenty chips. I’d be able to afford a couple of meals with that much.

Bruno didn’t even bother picking up his cards, letting out a wild laugh. “So Luca has challenged I! Who am I if not the most glorious of men? I don’t even need to witness my hand to know I shall win. Ten chips? Why not make it twenty! Hahaha!” The dumbass doubled the bet without even looking at his cards. Fucking moron. Man, I loved the guy, but he needed to sit and think sometimes.

His chips joined the pot. A gleaming pile of dim light that sent my heart racing. What were we at now? Seventy? No way in hell Eve was folding. I saw it in her face. She’d press forward out of spite before giving up. Guaranteed eighty. I thumbed my cards, pleased to see my pocket kings. Another thrum of that sweet adrenaline ran through me.

I was going to win, no fucking two ways about it. The river showed low numbers. Unlikely anyone had a straight—sure, a queen was up there, but my pocket kings? Guaren-fucking-teed. I tossed in forty chips, doubling the bet again. Kayson whistled.

Eve didn’t bother waiting; she bit the bait and called my bet. Kayson folded. Smart enough for his own good. Pfft, still. As Bruno began to count out his chips, I couldn’t get over that sweet and sickly feeling of thrill. Excitement. Though I felt like I’d win—did I know? Could someone have three of a kind? Pocket Aces?

There were three hearts up; someone might have a flush, even if they weren’t betting like it. I glanced at Bruno’s cards. Even the big guy didn’t know what he had.

It could end in any way. I might win big or go home with nothing. The last of my chips rode on this bet. The tension in the air was intoxicating. I licked my lips. Suddenly, my Soul chimed. It clicked. In a way, it hadn’t since I’d fucked it up. It resonated with this moment, with this risk, with this fate. Not a shooting pain, but pleasure. It nearly startled me enough to fuck up, but I didn’t have time to think. Bruno tossed in his chips, chuckling to himself—flipping those cards of his. Pair of jacks. Holy fuck.

Eve looked at his cards and snorted, gesturing for me to get on with it. Of course, she wanted to go last.

Pfft.

My fingers hesitated on the cards, wondering if just maybe she’d played me. She was crafty like that. A spark of blue jolted from my finger of their own accord as I flipped my two kings; my Soul hummed. Eve groaned, revealing her crap hand.

I’d won.

I stared at my fingers, rubbing the numb tips against one another. I pulled the pot towards myself, hearing Eve chide herself and mumble about me cheating. Bruno simply laughed out loud.

I joined him in the laughing. I began to stack my winnings—counting them out and seeing just how many spirit chips I’d won.

Then, without explaining myself, I threw them back to their owners, returning them to my friends. It wasn’t about the need to win. Just betting with my friends was more than enough for me. I didn’t need to walk away the winner, pockets full of chips. I just wanted the game to go on longer. I shot Eve a triumphant smirk, sliding the deck to her. The next hand was hers to deal.

♤ - ♥ - ♧ - ♦ - FIN - ♦ - ♧ - ♥ - ♤