Like A Wild Card

"Young Miss."

Stella, currently sitting on a luxurious office chair, casually turned her head to the side, "Report."

"The Street Dogs have solidified their position as District."

"Seems my poking got on their nerves.", Stella giggled faintly.

"Also. . .", unsure how to properly convey this message the reporting individual hesitated.

Still amused by the previous report Stella urged them forward, "Go on."

"It seems Black Iron still lingers, and is now under the Street Dogs."

She paused, a moment of shock as she properly grasped the information.

Bronze Cannon, that name wasn't unfamiliar at all. It was prominent around the time Stella first entered the scene. The rumors around Black Iron became numerous once he left Bronze Cannon. These rumors certainly didn't escape her ears, but it was shocking to know he was still in the scene.

Tugging at her hair Stella sent away the informant, "Dismissed."

Bowing the informant said no more and did as he was told. Once she heard the faint click of the door close Stella let out a sigh, "Black Iron under the Street Dogs?"

Lifting herself out of her chair she wandered towards a large window. As her Royal Dominion was in charge of the Annatto District she chose the tallest building to be the base of operations for her gang. Located on the top floor was her office. Despite her gang being themed around Royalty, her office looked more like a CEO's. The simplistic yet sleek modern style was prominent across the place. Her chair and desk located at the farthest wall from the door, with a massive window behind it.

She often liked to spend her free time looking through this window. Her point of view often let her watch the people below scurry towards their daily work. Fiddling with her hair she continued to stare while being deep in thought.

Black Iron wasn't an easily subdued target. His ability boasted an extreme amount of defense, a rare type among this City. Not a single weapon proved to be able to pass through it, although there weren't any modern destructive ones.

From what she could remember, Black Iron survived being hit by a delivery truck. A specific move against Bronze Cannon by an older gang. This truck sped down a hill towards him and crashed both Black Iron and the truck into the wall of an old factory. It was due to this that people realized just how dangerous vehicles were in this lawless city, and several gangs swiftly decommissioned them.

Despite such a force, Black Iron was able to pull himself from that crash. Although he was still injured, such a crash would've normally killed someone. Thus Black Iron's Cred was not small.

"Seems I've underestimated the Street Dogs. . ."

Returning to her desk Stella opened a drawer, her finger gently passed over the various files. Stopping over one she slipped it out. A new folder, it lacked any creases from use. Opening it on her desk she read it silently. Pulling out a red pen from a different drawer she scribbled something on the very bottom. What she wrote was currently only known by her.

Placing the folder back she closed the drawer, "They're too dangerous like this."

A worrisome thought to have. This report just made Top Dog's Cred rise. Handling a member of the first generation was a sure way to get your name known. Add this to the Street Dogs rapid rise, and suddenly people are unsure of the gang's actual strength. This will cause fear to fester, and the Street Dogs will make more enemies.

Yet for an opportunist, this could be a good chance to develop a beneficial relationship with the Street Dogs. Allying themselves with a potential powerhouse. It was certainly a gamble, after all their strength could be less than what is assumed. With all their achievements potentially being chance.

This is what Stella was tossing through her mind. A mental battle of allying herself with the Street Dogs, or viewing them as a potential threat. Compared to the order she strove for, the Street Dogs were too chaotic to fall into place. Upon realizing her lack of information she decided on a choice.

Placing her hands behind her back she walked towards the door, "So be it then."

As Royal Dominion started their move, there was also a buzz of activity at the Street Dogs. Several individuals stood waiting in the parking lot. Although the tension was high, no one made a move. Always tossing side glances at the other. Then a door would open with someone walking out, temporarily gaining their attention. After that one of them would enter that same room.

These were none other than the leaders of the various gangs in the Barberry District. Top Dog made sure they were present so he could deal with them one at a time. It would normally be a death wish to have so many leaders present at the same location, at the same time. Yet no one tried anything due to a thick fear they all held.

Currently the time was midday, approximately a full half-day since Top Dog defeated Black Iron. After that occurred the rest of the gangs attacking the Street Dogs were swiftly taken down by the efforts of both Street Dogs and Rider Craze. With the rumor of the once great Black Iron submitting under Top Dog, many feared standing against him. Thus led this show of tension filled obedience.

Managing a District came with more worries than anticipated. There were several streets and gangs Top Dog had to supervise. Between making sure they didn't step out of line, and collecting protection fees, Top Dog found he was chained to his desk now.

Ghost Hand made it clear that the management will be handled purely by Top Dogs. Which meant the setting of protection fees, and the actual act of protection. However they were to take a seventy-percent cut. Normally this might seem like robbery, but the flow of money from a whole District was simultaneously both large and small. Compared to the flow Ghost Hand dealt with, it wasn't too much, but to the newly promoted Districts the extra thirty-percent was far beyond what they normally handled.

This money was capable of so much in the city. Those who had their hand in the pile would live a life of luxury. All of this cash flow was the reason why so many people aspired to be in a Street Gang, or wanted to create one. This was what it meant to stand near the top.

I always feel bittersweet when I get to this part.

As for what happened to the injured, thanks to R-R's hard work they were making a quick recovery. Jay arguably got off easy, his wounds were the first to heal. However R-R forbid him from doing any work until his previous wounds finished healing. Shoulder included. Helpless against her stern demeanor Jay could only patiently obey.

"Your tenacity is admirable. Many of my group gave up at this point and needed a break. Yet here you are still going. You keep up this pace and you'll be a force to be reckoned with.", Track praised.

The young boy had been endlessly training under his regime. To the young boy the pain from this training wasn't comparable to anything he experience. Not to say it was beyond anything, rather it just paled in comparison. Track watched him with a prying eye. Such determination spawned from something else. Not bothering to ask Track decided on just keeping his word to train the young boy to be stronger.

Due to the various martial arts being lost, the training Track could provide was limited to building the physical body and some tips to stay awake and alive in combat. Although such training was basic it was still helpful to someone with no foundation.

The young boy's bones started to creak, and it took longer for him to continue the exercises. His body was beginning to fail despite his desire to go further. Track chuckled slightly, "Alright that's enough. You need ample rest to properly set your gains. If you keep destroying your body like this then it won't be able to build itself."

Immediately stopping the young boy sat and let his body rest. Track handed him a bottle of water, "Drink up, in a moment I'm gonna give you a hefty meal. Your body is going to need a mass amount of energy."

As the young boy drank from the bottle Track pulled out a small notepad. Scribbling various things down he fell into thought. If the young boy was capable of pushing himself to failure then there was a possibility of exploiting this. By performing some extreme exercises he should be able to get him to grow rapidly.

Shaking his head he scribbled something at the bottom, "Alright you'll stay here for a while. I'll inform Top Dog with what I'm doing so don't worry about it. For now you lie down. I have someone I need to contact."

The young boy promptly lied down on the floor. Not speaking a word he completely relaxed his muscles. Track shook his head at the sight, "Alright I'll be back."

Tossing the small notebook on a nearby table Track left the room. As the notebook bounced it flipped through the pages until landing open. The page it left on was none other than the one Track was scribbling on. Most of it was illegible, Track lacked in the handwriting department after all. Yet at the very bottom there was a few words in bold:

"Ask Lye."