Chapter 119: Old Wolf Bows II

C- rank at fifteen was completely unheard of. Even the talented prodigies from Imperial families typically didn’t reach that level until sixteen or seventeen.

The other men stared at Damian with new understanding, finally comprehending why this teenager spoke with such absolute confidence.

This wasn’t youthful arrogance.

This was someone who’d already surpassed most people twice his age in raw power, and who clearly had no intention of slowing down.

Mike took a slow breath, his expression shifting through several emotions before settling on something that looked like resigned acceptance mixed with genuine respect.

Then he did something that shocked everyone in the room.

He walked around the table until he stood directly in front of Damian.

And then the A+ rank underworld boss, a man who’d survived and thrived in the criminal world for over forty years, a legend in the shadows of Tranquil City, slowly lowered himself to one knee.

He took Damian’s hand in both of his weathered ones and brought it to his lips, kissing it formally in the traditional gesture of absolute loyalty and submission.

"I pledge my service to you and to the Mafia. My operations, my resources and my experience, all of it is yours to command."

The room erupted in shocked murmurs.

"Boss, what are you–"

"Why would you submit to–"

"He’s just a kid, we don’t need to–"

Mike’s voice cut through the protests like a blade.

"All of you, kneel. Now."

His authority was absolute, accumulated over decades of leadership.

One by one, the five men dropped to their knees as well, bowing their heads in submission.

Alessio stood frozen behind Damian’s chair, his young face showing complete shock at seeing his guardian, the powerful man who’d given him shelter from the streets, kneeling before the teenager he’d called Master.

Damian stood up slowly, looking down at the assembled group of career criminals now bowing before him.

"Rest assured, I don’t make empty promises. Follow me, follow the Mafia’s vision and rules, and I won’t let anyone down. Your loyalty will be rewarded with genuine opportunity and protection."

His voice carried absolute conviction.

"Do you all understand the rules that govern the Outer Region? The laws we’ve established, the systems we’ve built and the vision we’re implementing?

Start applying those same principles here in the Core Region. Get in contact with my people managing the Outer Region operations. Coordinate properly with each other."

He began walking toward the exit, speaking over his shoulder.

"Now only the Inner Region remains unconquered. Both the Core and Outer Region teams should cooperate to take it over as quickly as possible. I’ll be gone for a few weeks visiting family, and by the time I return, I want the entire city under Mafia control completely with no exceptions."

He paused at the doorway and looked back at Mike specifically.

"You’ll lead the Mafia operations for this entire city. Train everyone properly and organize all operations. Everything runs through your command structure. You have the experience and the wisdom that my student members lack. Use it."

Mike nodded, still kneeling.

"One more thing. We’re not operating like street thugs anymore. All Mafia members will dress professionally. Men wear black suits. Women wear appropriate business attire. We present ourselves as a legitimate organization, not as criminals playing at power. Image and perception matters a lot. We look like an alternative government because that’s what we’re becoming."

Damian left without waiting for a response, his footsteps echoing down the stairs.

The room remained silent for a long moment after his departure.

Finally, one of Mike’s men spoke up, his voice carrying confusion and frustration.

"Boss, why did you submit so easily? We could have fought him. We outnumbered him. Even at C- rank, he’s still just one teenager against all of us. You are at A+ rank and take him out alone. Why did you kneel before he even demanded it?"

Another man nodded.

"I recognize his talent. I see his potential. But he’s still just a kid. Why give up everything we’ve built to serve under him?"

Mike stood up slowly, his old bones creaking slightly, and walked to a cabinet against the wall.

He pulled out a folder and dropped it on the table.

"Look at those before you question my decision."

The men gathered around, opening the folder to find photographs.

The Iron Barrel massacre with every angle and every horrific detail captured in high-resolution images.

The five severed heads arranged on the table. The minced remains of what had been five human bodies. The massive "M" painted in blood on the wall.

One man actually stepped back, his face going pale.

"What the fuck..."

"This is what he did to the five strongest gang leaders in the Outer Region when they tried to form an alliance against him. All five of them were C+ rank. Experienced fighters with decades of criminal operations behind them."

Mike’s voice was heavy.

"And he walked in alone, killed all their guards, massacred everyone in the building, then tortured those five leaders to death before dismembering their bodies so thoroughly you can’t even identify which pieces belonged to whom."

He let that sink in.

"You think we could have fought him? You think he came here to convince us or negotiate with us? That boy walked in with no intention of accepting refusal. If I’d said no, if any of you had tried to resist, we’d all be dead in a few months at most. He was just checking to see if he needed to add more corpses to his collection."

Mike’s weathered face was serious, grave in ways the others had rarely seen.

"I saw it in his eyes. That complete emptiness and that absolute certainty. He’s not a teenager playing at being dangerous. He’s something genuinely terrifying wearing a teenager’s face. A madman with intelligence and vision who’s willing to do absolutely anything to achieve his goals."

One of the men sat down heavily, still staring at the photographs.

"The younger generation these days... they’re becoming more and more intense and extreme. We thought we were hard because we survived in the underworld for decades. But this..."

"We need to adapt to changing times or we get left behind."

Mike’s voice was firm now, decisive.

"And besides, look past the brutality for a moment and actually examine what he’s built. The rules he’s established in the Outer Region are logical, fair and designed to actually benefit the people living there instead of just exploiting them.

He might be cruel and ruthless to his enemies, but he’s also someone with genuine vision for how to make things better."

He began pacing slowly.

"I’ve been doing this for forty years. I’ve seen patterns, cycles and the way power shifts and changes. And I’m telling you all, something big is about to happen in this world.

Real talents are emerging everywhere, not just in the Academy. There’s a trend forming, a change coming that’s bigger than any of us individually."

Mike stopped and looked at each of his men.

"We have no choice but to place our bets, and I’m betting on that terrifying kid who just walked out of here. Because if he succeeds, if he actually builds what he’s planning to build, we’ll be part of something that changes everything.

And if he fails, well, we were going to die eventually anyway. Might as well die trying to be part of something meaningful rather than just maintaining the same old criminal operations until someone stronger comes along and kills us."

The room fell silent as everyone absorbed his words.

Finally, the scarred man who’d thanked Damian earlier spoke up.

"If you’re that certain, Boss, then we follow. You’ve kept us alive and prosperous this long. If you say this is the right move, we trust your judgment."

The others nodded in agreement, one by one.

Mike looked down at the photographs again, at the blood-painted "M" that marked a new era in Tranquil City’s underworld.

"Get everyone organized. Start implementing the Mafia’s rules in our territories. Coordinate with the Outer Region teams. And someone get us all proper suits. We’re not criminals anymore... We’re revolutionaries."

Outside, Damian walked through the Core Region streets with his hands in his pockets, a slight smile on his face.

Another piece had fallen into place.

The old wolf had recognized the new alpha and submitted without needing to be beaten into submission.

Smart and efficient. Exactly what Damian needed.

’One city down. The entire Federation to go.

But first, a birthday visit home. Time to meet my family after a long time.’

The game continued.

And the pieces kept moving exactly where he needed them.