LNS' Offer

Dylan followed 20 Shots and his men into the dimly lit warehouse on the outskirts of Chicago. From the outside, it looked like the warehouse was abandoned but as soon as they entered, Dylan was stunned by what he saw.

It was clear this was an important meeting—armed men stood on every corner, scanning the room with sharp eyes. Some leaned against crates, quietly puffing cigars, while others sat at a round metal table in the center, engaged in tense conversation.

The LNS leadership was here.

A group of six men and one woman sat at the table, all wearing some variation of purple—jackets, hats, or handkerchiefs. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, and the scent of alcohol mixed with the lingering stench of gunpowder.

Dylan kept his face mask and cap low, ensuring only his glowing red eyes peeked from the shadows. He could feel their unease as soon as he entered the room.