Dark Hand (Final)

An warehouse stood in an isolated corner, far from prying eyes.

Its exterior was weathered—rust stains streaked the proud metal walls, and shattered windows revealed shards of glass scattered across the floor, glinting faintly in the dim glow of nearby streetlights. Peeling paint exposed the building's original color, while cracks spiderwebbed across the bricks holding it together.

Night cloaked the warehouse. The adjacent street lay deserted, lifeless save for the occasional hurried passerby eager to get home. Streetlights cast ghostly shadows.

In the darkness of the abandoned warehouse, two figures slipped inside.

"There you are, finally!" a woman's voice rang out, laced with anger and frustration. "You could've shown up on time, you know."

The figures turned out to be Gray and Libel, while the voice belonged to Nereva, seated a few steps away.

Libel shot Gray a hard glare. "It's this idiot's fault—he can't stop himself from getting plastered every chance he gets! No self-control, even for a night as important as this."

Gray dropped his gaze, looking both ashamed and indifferent. "Maybe next time I'll drag you along."

Libel, standing beside him, smacked him hard on the head. The blow was sharp, and he winced. "Don't count on it," she snapped coldly. "You'd better shape up, or things'll end badly for you."

Another man, wearing glasses, stepped in to defuse the tension. "Please, let's stop this pointless bickering. We don't have time to waste."

Gray shook his head to shake off the lingering pain, while Libel glared at him accusingly.

"Listen," the bespectacled man continued, his tone serious. "We're here for an important mission. We need to focus—distractions won't get us anywhere."

Gray and Libel found spots to sit, settling on a stack of crates.

Gray turned to the man with glasses. "Hey, Corwin, you ended up here too? I thought you still had business with the master," he said casually.

"I finished my task ahead of schedule. The master sent me to lend a hand," Corwin replied, adjusting his glasses.

"I feel better knowing we've got someone as capable as you to pull this off," Nereva said.

"Don't overdo it. He's not in charge. The master was clear—we follow Gray's orders," Libel cut in sharply.

"Excuse me, but that doesn't reassure me. Everyone knows Gray's not cut out to lead a mission this big," Nereva countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't question the master's decisions. Seems you've forgotten your place," Libel reprimanded icily.

Nereva sighed. "I'm not questioning the master—I'm stating facts. Gray just doesn't have the skills to lead something like this."

"Then maybe you're the one who doesn't belong here. Look at that treacherous tattoo you flaunt on your chest!" Libel shot back, jabbing a finger at the older woman.

As Nereva opened her mouth to retort, a hulking man who'd been silent until now interrupted. Yonghoul.

"Goddamn it, when are you two gonna shut up? I'm sick of your catfights! I just wanna smash something!" he roared.

His furious words echoed through the warehouse, silencing the women, who reluctantly backed off. Their eyes locked in a quiet standoff.

Corwin smiled. "Thanks for the heavy-handed assist, Yonghoul. I wasn't sure how to calm those two down."

"Shove your shitty thanks! I just wanna hit something!" Yonghoul barked.

Unfazed by the insult, Corwin glanced at Gray, who'd dozed off during the spat. A smirk tugged at his lips. "So, what's the plan, Gray?"

Startled awake, Gray blinked around in confusion. "Is the meeting over? I could use a nap."

"No, it's not over, and you'd know that if you hadn't nodded off! Wake up and listen!" Libel snapped coldly.

"Can you give us the orders, please?" Corwin pressed, unruffled.

Gray yawned, scratching his temple before replying in a sluggish drawl, "The master wants us to build a major criminal organization. Something to shake this country to its core."

"We already know that! Give us something solid!" Nereva growled, exasperated.

Gray sighed, rubbing his temple as he sank into thought. "Why do I end up in these situations? All I want is to sleep," he muttered under his breath.

After a moment, he perked up with an idea and turned to Corwin. "What if… you took the lead on this, Corwin?"

Silence fell over the warehouse.

Libel slapped her forehead in frustration, while Nereva let out a deep sigh.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but the master picked you to run this. You can't dodge that responsibility," Corwin said kindly, though a glint of menace flickered in his eyes as he added softly, "The master has high expectations for you… ones you'll meet, right?"

Gray's face briefly lit with interest before slipping back to its usual detachment. He sighed. "Fine, then. We'll focus on setting up a small trafficking network in this city."

Nereva couldn't hold back the obvious question: "What kind of trafficking? And why? Wouldn't it be faster and smarter to infiltrate an existing organization and take it over from the inside? That's the quickest way to hit the master's goals."

For once, Libel agreed with her. "The master gave us less than a year. Building our own setup from scratch will take too long."

"Man, I'm exhausted just listening to you all," Gray grumbled, sighing again.

"Ladies, don't get it twisted," Corwin interjected. "Gray's a die-hard slacker—he'll always pick the easiest, fastest route. Starting a trafficking gig means less hassle and quicker gains."

Nereva nodded but frowned. "How does creating our own operation make things faster? I don't get it…"

Gray ignored her and turned to Corwin. "So, what'd the master have you working on before this?"

Corwin smirked. "He had me test an experimental drug in a city in Drisst," he said simply.

Libel blinked in disbelief. "Wait—you were behind that incident that hit Drisst recently?"

"That drug's one of the master's many creations," Corwin explained. "It's a performance-enhancing stimulant that pushes people past their limits. In Drisst, the master wanted its effects pushed to the extreme—hence the fallout."

Nereva's eyes widened.

"From what I've heard, that city's crawling with shady dealers. That's where we'll start spreading it," Gray said casually.

Libel frowned. "Hold on, Gray! Where'd you even get that info? You've just been bar-hopping. What 'sources'? You're full of it!"

Ignoring her, Gray started picking his nose, much to her disgust.

Seeing her skepticism, Corwin chimed in, "The best intel often comes from places like pubs. Gray's probably picked up some key details that way. Don't be too hard on him—his odd methods pay off."

Libel sighed in exasperation.

"What a crap plan!" Yonghoul growled. "Why do you all love tiptoeing around? Total waste of time! I say we crush those criminal outfits and take the top spot!"

"Yonghoul, you know full well—" Corwin began, trying to soothe him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Yonghoul cut in. "It's only 'cause the master ordered it that I'm putting up with you lot. Still, if I can't crack skulls, we at least need a badass name! 'Demons of Voracity' works!"

Corwin nodded thoughtfully. "A strong name does matter. If we want a rep that sticks, it's gotta hit hard. I'd go with 'Black Extasia.'"

"What about 'Vermilion'?" Nereva suggested. "It's striking and mysterious—could symbolize our power and subtlety."

Libel rolled her eyes. "Vermilion? Seriously? That's so lame! Why not something punchy like 'Drugs Masters'? That'd send a clear message."

Nereva raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding, right? That's childish and laughable. We need something subtle yet evocative. Vermilion fits."

Yonghoul shot to his feet. "You're all pathetic! We need a name that'll give us the guts to run this without fear and claim dominance!"

Sensing the deadlock, Corwin offered a practical fix: "We're going nowhere. Let's draw lots. Everyone writes a name, and we pick the one that's drawn."

As they nodded in agreement, Gray stood calmly, ready to ditch the meeting.

"Where do you think you're going? We're not done!" Libel shouted, her eyes blazing.

Gray shrugged lazily. "Name doesn't matter to me. Call it whatever—I don't care."

As he reached the door, Corwin stopped him. "Hold up. Before you go, give us a name for the draw."

Gray let out a heavy sigh. "Fine. There's five of us, working in the shadows. Call it 'Dark Hand' if you want," he said offhandedly.

A charged silence hung in the warehouse.

As Gray walked out, a sly grin spread across Corwin's face. He turned to the others. "Looks like it's settled. Dear colleagues, allow me to introduce the birth of 'Dark Hand'!"