The Weight of Leadership

Three days had passed since Héctor and his group took over the gang's operation, and in that time, the street corner had become a lucrative post. The five young recruits—Hisori, Yuna, Riku, Masa, and Kaoru—worked diligently, selling the drugs they had taken from the gang's hideout. The profits were steady, and their confidence in Héctor was growing, even if some still harbored doubts about his intentions.

It was late afternoon, and the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the bar. Inside, Héctor sat at the center table, surrounded by his recruits and Muwara. Enoro leaned against the counter, listening quietly as the group prepared for another evening of sales. The atmosphere buzzed with energy, but it was tinged with unease.

"We've moved most of the product," Yuna said, her voice steady as she laid out a handwritten ledger. "Twenty doses of Dustfire and eight Flashbang pills left."

Héctor studied the paper. It was a good start, but he knew the real challenge was maintaining control. "Good work," he said. "We'll keep pushing tonight. Stick to your corners, and keep your eyes open."

Kaoru, the oldest of the group, shifted uncomfortably. "There's something else," he said, glancing at the others before continuing. "My cousin… he's a hero in training. Not a big one, just starting out, but he told me something. The new heroes in this area are asking questions about us."

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to Héctor, who leaned back in his chair, his expression calm.

"What kind of questions?" he asked.

"They're investigating the shooting at the drug house," Kaoru explained. "And some killings a few weeks ago. The caliber of the bullets matched, and they think…"

"They think it's me," Héctor finished, his voice calm. "And what about the old heroes? What happened to them?"

Hisori hesitated. "They were corrupt. Took money from gangs, turned a blind eye to certain things. But when some of those heroes died in a shootout… the Hero Association replaced them. The state police are involved too. The local police couldn't cover it up."

Héctor nodded slowly. It was a complication, but not an unexpected one. Corruption was a double-edged sword; it made some operations easier but always left vulnerabilities. The old heroes had been manageable apparently. These new ones would require a different approach.

"Kaoru," Héctor said, his tone sharpening, "you're going to speak with your cousin. Offer him money. A lot of it. The more information he brings us, the more he gets paid. Understand?"

Kaoru nodded, though his unease was evident. "I'll talk to him tonight."

"Good," Héctor said. He turned his attention to Yuna. "Your aunt… she's the one who deals with stolen devices, right?"

Yuna frowned, unsure where he was going with this. "Yeah. She unlocks phones and stuff. Why?"

"I need you to get me a phone," Héctor said. "Untraceable. No GPS, no standard operating system. Something that can't be tied to me, a dumbphone would be better."

Yuna blinked, then nodded. "I'll see what she has."

"Make it a priority," Héctor said. "We're going to need clean communication channels."

As the conversation shifted to their sales strategy, Héctor addressed a growing issue. "I've noticed some of the corners near ours are empty," he said. "Do you know why?"

Masa, a lanky boy with sharp eyes, shrugged. "The gangs that ran them probably pulled out. Either they got hit, or they're lying low."

"Exactly," Héctor said. "Those corners are now ours. If they're too scared to use them, then they're fair game."

The group exchanged uncertain looks. "What if they come back?" Riku asked.

Héctor's gaze hardened. "Then we deal with them. But for now, we take what's available. The more ground we hold, the harder it will be for anyone to push us out."

The boys and girls nodded hesitantly, though some still seemed unsure. Héctor made a mental note to keep a close eye on their loyalty. Fear and doubt were dangerous weaknesses.

By early evening, the group began dispersing to their respective tasks. As they gathered their supplies and prepared to leave, Héctor pulled Hisori aside. "A word before you go," he said.

Hisori followed him to a quieter corner of the bar, where Héctor handed him the revolver. "You want your gun back, right?"

Hisori stared at the weapon, his expression conflicted. "Yeah…"

"Then prove you deserve it," Héctor said. "You're in charge of your group. Keep them close, keep them safe, and bring me those bullets I asked for. Do that, and the gun's yours."

Hisori nodded slowly, a hint of respect in his eyes. "I'll get it done."

"Good," Héctor said, clapping him on the shoulder. "And remember, Hisori—you're not just working for me. You're working for yourself. If you want to survive, you'll need to think ahead."

With that, Hisori rejoined the others, and the group filed out of the bar. Héctor watched them go, his mind already calculating the next steps. 

The streets outside the bar were dimly lit, the faint hum of distant traffic filling the silence. Hisori and the others gathered just outside the doorway, their breath visible in the cool night air. For a moment, no one spoke, the weight of their task hanging heavily over them. Finally, Yuna broke the silence.

"So, what's the plan, boss?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she glanced at Hisori.

Kaoru scoffed. "Plan? We sell, like always. Or maybe we don't. Maybe we take what we've got, shoot the old man, and keep everything for ourselves."

"That's stupid," Masa said, shaking his head. "He pays us better than anyone else would. And you think you can handle this whole thing on your own? Good luck with that."

"We wouldn't have to," Riku muttered, his eyes darting between the others. "There are other gangs out there. Stronger ones. We could make a deal, trade the drugs for money, so we don't sell."

The group fell silent again, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Hisori cleared his throat, drawing their attention.

"Look, I don't like Héctor any more than you do," he said, his voice firm. "But without him, we wouldn't have made a single dollar. None of us would've gotten anywhere near this kind of money, and you know it. Yeah, he's tough, but he's not stupid. He's keeping us alive. For now, that's good enough."

Kaoru crossed his arms, scowling but saying nothing. Yuna sighed, her expression softening slightly. "Alright," she said reluctantly. "We stick to the plan. For now."

"Good," Hisori said, nodding. "Let's split up. Yuna and Masa, you handle the sales. Kaoru and Riku, you're with me. We've got other tasks to take care of."

The group dispersed, their footsteps fading into the distance as they headed toward their respective corners of the neighborhood.

Back inside the bar, Héctor sat at the central table, surrounded by stacks of bills and coins. A small machine on the table whirred softly as it counted the cash, spitting out receipts that Muwara diligently recorded on a ledger. Beside her, Enoro leaned against the counter, watching the process with mild interest.

"How much so far?" Héctor asked, his tone casual.

Muwara glanced at the ledger. "Around 2,800 Kyono Dollars. And we still have some product left. Twenty-one doses of Dustfire, eight Flashbang pills, and…" She frowned, sorting through the remaining stash. "Three doses of something called Nightcry, and two patches of Adrenalux."

Héctor raised an eyebrow. "New products?"

Enoro nodded. "They were in the stash we took. Nightcry's a very rare hallucinogen, very potent, sold in liquid form. Street value's about 600 Kyono per dose. Adrenalux is a stimulant patch for students and salarymans. You stick it on your skin, and it gives you a boost of energy and focus. Not as uncommon, but it's expensive—300 Kyono per patch."

Héctor leaned back in his chair, his mind calculating. "Good margins. And we've sold most of what we started with. That's progress."

"Barely," Muwara muttered, jotting down another figure. "The profits are decent, but we're still small. One mistake and we're done for."

Héctor smirked. "That's why we don't make mistakes."

She shot him a skeptical look but didn't argue. "What about the money? How are we splitting it?"

"Simple," Héctor replied. "Twenty percent to the kids. They earn it. The rest, we split evenly. Twenty percent for you, twenty percent for Enoro, and the remaining forty stays with me."

Enoro chuckled. "Generous."

"Fair," Héctor corrected. "And sustainable. Everyone gets enough to stay loyal, but no one gets greedy. That's how you build trust."

Muwara sighed, shaking her head as she finished the calculations. "Whatever you say, you look more experienced anyway."

Later that night, Héctor sat alone in a quiet corner of the bar, flipping through a small black journal. He'd started using it to keep track of names, numbers, and leads—a habit from his old life that had served him well. He made a note to find someone who could act as a proper accountant. The numbers were manageable now, but as their operation grew, it would become too much for one person to handle.

The door creaked open, and Enoro stepped inside, a cigarette dangling from his lips. "The kids are nowhere to be seen," he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "You think they'll come back?"

Héctor glanced up, his expression unreadable. "They will. They're not stupid. They know where the money is."

Enoro nodded, taking another drag. "And if they don't?"

Héctor's gaze hardened. "Then we replace them."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of Héctor's words hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Enoro shrugged, flicking ash onto the floor. "Fair enough."

As the night stretched on, Héctor leaned back in his chair, his thoughts drifting to the days ahead.

-

The bar's lights were dimmed, and the air carried the heavy stillness of the late night, as the recruits trickled back one by one. Hisori arrived first, his face weary but determined. He handed Héctor a small pouch of bullets and gave a quick nod before retreating to a seat near the corner. Yuna followed shortly after, tossing a flipphone onto the table with a triumphant grin. It was black, but not very old.

"Easiest money I've ever made," she said, leaning back in her chair.

Kaoru and Riku arrived last, their expressions tense. Kaoru's knuckles were bruised, and Riku's shirt was torn. They exchanged uneasy glances before approaching Héctor.

"We had… a situation," Kaoru began, his voice low.

Héctor's eyes narrowed. "Go on."

Riku spoke next, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Some guys tried to corner us. Claimed the spot we were selling at belonged to them. When we didn't back down, they got aggressive. Kaoru handled it, but it got messy."

Héctor's gaze flicked to Kaoru, who shrugged. "They swung first. I just made sure they wouldn't swing at us again."

"Did anyone see?" Héctor asked, his tone sharp.

"No," Kaoru replied. "We dragged them into an alley before things escalated. Left them there."

Héctor nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Good. But next time, handle it faster. We don't want anyone asking questions."

Kaoru nodded, relief washing over his face. "Got it."

The recruits' reports continued, each one detailing their successes and minor setbacks. Overall, the night had been profitable, and the group seemed more confident than they had a few days ago. Muwara tallied the cash, her hands moving quickly as she counted and recorded the totals.

"Not bad," she said, glancing up at Héctor. "We've cleared about 1.500 Kyono Dollars tonight, minus what we paid out to the kids."

Héctor leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the group. They were rough around the edges, but they were learning. More importantly, they were loyal—for now.

"We're moving in the right direction," he said. "But this is just the start. The real work begins now."

Yuna raised an eyebrow. "What's next?"

Héctor's smirk returned. "Secure a supplier. We've taken a small piece of the pie, but there's a lot more out there. Gangs like the one we stole from—they're everywhere. And they're weak. If we move smart and fast, we can take over their operations before they even realize what's happening."

Riku frowned. "And what about the heroes? They're already asking questions."

"That's where you come in," Héctor said, turning to Kaoru. "Your cousin… how much does he know?"

He hesitated. "Not much. He's new. Still trying to make a name for himself. But he's trying to access to their patrol schedules and investigation logs."

"Good," Héctor said. "Keep him close. Make sure he keeps feeding us information. And if he gets nervous, remind him how much money he's making by staying quiet."

Hisori nodded, though his unease was clear. "I'll handle that."

As the night wore on, the recruits began to drift out the bar, their exhaustion catching up to them. Muwara closed the ledger and stretched, stifling a yawn. Enoro lit a cigarette and leaned against the counter, watching as Héctor stared at the stack of cash on the table.

"You've got them working hard," Enoro said, exhaling a plume of smoke. "But you know this won't last. The stash is almost out, and we have way more attention that needed."

"I know," Héctor replied, his tone calm. "That's why we need to grow fast. If we're big enough, no one will be able to touch us."

"Big enough to scare the heroes?" Enoro asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

Héctor's smirk widened. "Big enough to make them think twice. That's all we need."

Enoro and Muwara finished drinking and have gone out.

In the early hours of the morning, Héctor finally retreated to the small room he had claimed as his own. The night's profits sat in a lockbox under the bed, and his notebook lay open on the desk, filled with plans and calculations. He flipped through the pages, his mind racing with ideas for the next steps.

He paused, staring at a sketch of the city's layout he had drawn. Each district was marked with notes and potential targets, a roadmap for the empire he intended to build. The game was dangerous, but Héctor had played it before. This world was different, but the rules of power remained the same.

"One step at a time," he muttered to himself, his voice low but resolute. "One step at a time."

Héctor leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a brief moment. The weight of leadership was heavy, but it was a burden he had carried before. And he was determined to carry it to the top, again.