Chapter 19: Shadows of Rivalry

The Copperheads made their move under the cover of night. It started with whispers, vague and distant, of a new gang attempting to disrupt Dustvale's fragile balance of power. But when Rod learned the Viper gang's supply run had been ambushed on the edge of town, he knew those whispers had turned into a roar.

Rod sat at the head of the long table in the Viper gang's headquarters, his core team gathered around him. The room was thick with tension, the faint glow of oil lamps casting long shadows across their faces.

Li leaned forward, her sharp eyes scanning a report in front of her. "It's not just a one-off. Three of our supply runs have been hit this week. Always at night. They're organized and smart, whoever they are."

Roy slapped the table, his frustration bubbling over. "Copperheads. I've heard of them. They're from the east side. Used to be small-time crooks, but they've been growing lately. Looks like they've decided it's time to play with the big boys."

Carl shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why now? We've been holding our ground. Why poke the bear?"

Rod leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled. "Because they think we're distracted. Between Old Smoke's loyalists and the Black River gang, they see an opportunity to take what's ours. They're testing us."

Li folded her arms, her expression grim. "Then we need to hit back. Hard."

Rod nodded slowly. "But not recklessly. We don't know enough about them yet. Where they operate, who's leading them. We can't afford to go in blind."

Roy huffed. "So what do we do? Just sit around and let them take more from us?"

"No," Rod said firmly. "We send a message. But first, we gather intel."

Later that night, Rod and a small group of trusted Vipers headed out to the east side of Dustvale. The streets were quieter here, the air heavy with the scent of coal smoke and desperation. It was a part of the city Rod knew all too well—a place where the desperate clawed for survival, and gangs like the Copperheads thrived.

Li walked beside him, her sharp eyes scanning the shadows. "You really think we'll find anything tonight?"

Rod smirked. "We'll find something. People always talk when they're scared enough."

They approached a rundown tavern at the corner of a dark alley. The sign above the door hung crookedly, the name The Rusty Nail barely legible.

"This place is a known Copperhead hangout," Rod said quietly. "Let's see if anyone's feeling chatty."

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of stale beer and sweat. A handful of men sat at tables, their conversations low and furtive. Rod and his crew drew a few glances as they entered, but most quickly looked away.

Rod approached the bar, leaning casually against the counter. The bartender, a wiry man with a permanent scowl, eyed him warily.

"What'll it be?" the bartender asked, his voice gruff.

Rod slid a coin across the counter. "Information."

The bartender's eyes narrowed. "Don't know what you're talking about."

Rod smiled coldly, his hand flickering with a faint spark of electricity. It was subtle, but enough to make the bartender take a cautious step back.

"Try again," Rod said.

The bartender swallowed hard. "Alright, alright. What do you wanna know?"

"The Copperheads," Rod said, his voice low and dangerous. "Where can I find them?"

The bartender hesitated, glancing around nervously. "They've got a warehouse near the old rail yard. That's where they stash their loot. But you didn't hear it from me."

Rod nodded, tossing another coin onto the counter. "Pleasure doing business with you."

The rail yard was a maze of rusted tracks and crumbling buildings, the perfect place for a gang to operate unseen. Rod and his crew approached cautiously, sticking to the shadows.

From a distance, they could see the warehouse. Dim light filtered through the cracks in the walls, and the faint sound of voices carried on the wind.

Rod motioned for his crew to stop. "This is their base of operations. We're not here to start a fight—yet. We need to get a sense of their numbers, their defenses."

Li nodded, already moving toward a vantage point. Roy grumbled under his breath but followed orders.

As they observed, it became clear the Copperheads were well-organized. Guards patrolled the perimeter, armed and alert. Inside the warehouse, crates were being loaded onto wagons, their contents unknown.

"They're moving something big," Li whispered.

Rod's eyes narrowed. "Weapons. Maybe drugs. Whatever it is, it's how they're funding their expansion."

Roy smirked. "So we take it from them. Hit 'em where it hurts."

Rod nodded, but his expression was thoughtful. "Not yet. We need to be smart about this. Let's pull back for now."

Back at the Viper headquarters, Rod gathered his core team once more.

"The Copperheads are better organized than I thought," he began. "They've got a solid operation at the rail yard, but they're not invincible."

Li leaned forward. "So what's the plan?"

"We hit their supply lines," Rod said. "Cut off their funding, their weapons, their resources. Force them into a corner."

Carl frowned. "Won't that make them more desperate? More dangerous?"

Rod nodded. "It will. But desperate people make mistakes. And when they do, we'll be ready."

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of the coming battle hanging heavy in the air. But Rod's determination was unshakable.

Dustvale was his city, and he would defend it at any cost.