Black Hood: Season Two by Nick Venom (management books to read txt) 📕

“You know why I couldn’t stay with her.” 

“Not arguing with you, only telling the truth. Oh, and Maddie’s been excelling at her studies.”

“Where was she accepted?” He asked him.

“Scholar Institute. The same school as Lin.”

“Great,” Spec said, rising from his chair. “I think it’s time for me to leave.”

Matt furrowed his brows, asking, “why are you leaving. Don’t you want to meet your sister and Maddie?”

“I did, but… I will also be venturing on a dark path and blood will stain my hands. I don’t want that blood to stain her hands.” Spec explained, moving towards the door. “It’s been fun talking to you Matt, but my time is up.” He remarked as he peered through the window and noticed Edwin waiting for him. “I will come back in a few years when my hands are clean again. That’s when I’ll reunite with Lin and Maddie and see how they’ve changed. As for you-” He glanced over his shoulder. “You better live and teach them the rights and wrongs of this world. Become a better father figure than I or your son could’ve ever been.”

“My son’s a coward, you’re not. Ross fed his wife to Wick and abandoned Maddie in the Slums. He’s been gone since her birth, leaving me with all of the responsibilities. You, on the other hand, have turned out to be a fine man. Your parents would be proud of you.”

“I would like to think that too. See you, Matt.” Spec then opened the door and closed it behind him, temporarily ending the relationship.

Edwin waited for him, handing a piece of paper to Spec as he neared him. Spec yanked the paper out of his hand, skimming through it. “Redbrights? Where’s the headquarters?”

“We don’t know - that what’s you’ve been tasked with finding out. Kill the leader and disappear into the shadows. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Fine, just remember my first condition. Leave Lin and the others alone.”

“We understand… as long as you fulfill your tasks.”

***

“Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you fulfilling his requests? Wouldn’t it be easier to have a mage brainwash him?” Edwin asked, kneeling in front of the throne, his head raised to meet Jayden’s downward stare.

“You don’t understand how it works, Edwin. Yes, we could brainwash him and he’ll become our puppet, but what about his family. Family is important.”

“Is that why you’re hard on-”

Edwin cowered under Jayden’s long and deadly glare.

“I don’t remember permitting you to speak of that subject. Only I have that permission.” He remarked. Edwin nodded violently, lowering his head in embarrassment.

“I apologize, sir. It wasn’t my intention to disobey you.”

“Raise your head, I understand it wasn’t your intention. Anyway, to answer your question, Spec is fragile already. If we push him and have a mage brainwash him to serve as a puppet, his sanity will crack. He does have a sister to look after and it’ll hurt me much to forcefully tear the two apart.”

“Is that why…” His voice trailed off. Jayden nodded at him, almost as if was granting permission for him to speak. “Is that why you set a three-year period for him. After three years, he gets to live a normal life with his sister.”

Jayden stood up from his throne. “He’s a valuable asset, but every asset breaks down if not well-maintained. Keeping Spec’s sanity stable will grant us more benefits in the long run.”

“Yes, sir,” Edwin said.

“Good, now get the team in position. Once Spec and M strike, push them forward. I want full control of the Slums no matter the price.”

“Sir, what about your daughter’s-”

“She’ll be at the helm, but monitored. Once it’s declared too dangerous, she’ll be the first to leave.” Jayden ordered.

Edwin nodded, bowing his head. “As you see fit… your majesty.”

TBC…

Spec searched for the Redbrights base. His first target, on a Kill Order list that Edwin brought along with him, was a man named Torrent. He became the head of the small gang that rose from the embers of Wick’s gang, the Rulers. 

After rumors of Wick’s death were confirmed by a disgraced and badly disfigured body, Wick’s gang collapsed without him at the helm. Fortunately for him and his family, his money was shipped out of the Slums and to an unknown destination. His physical assets---such as the ports and warehouses---were taken over by rising gangs while the few sparse Wick loyals fled their posts. 

Out of the Rulers’ collapse, multiple gangs sprouted to take advantage of the sudden power vacuum. These gangs began fighting between each other, destroying the Slums.

Spec watched from the top of a building not in the Slums, seeing as brother against brother tore each other apart for the title of Ruler of the Slums. A petty title that caused much bloodshed.

“I’m back,” he muttered to himself. He was a few steps from entering the place that nearly killed him and his family. His stunt as Black Hood gained him enough money to have his family escape the Slums, but it also stole his freedom. He was no longer a free man, bending at the will of the king.

He spat on the roof while thinking about it. The king imprisoned him and now used him as his political pawn. A tool that did all of his biddings.

“Torrent; the head of the Redbrights gang.” He scoped out the area of the Slums he could see from the roof of the seven-story building. It annoyed him that the building was almost hovering the Slums, but never letting them enter its freshness. Instead, they were disregarded as trash.

“Where could you be?” He surveyed the area, realizing that the abandoned ports would be a good place to search through. Using ports and their water-related resources would grant them an escape route if needed, and income through fishing, drug smuggling, and trafficking. 

“Fisher Port?” Spec questioned, preparing himself to leap into the Slums. The fall wasn’t a problem as he would use his scythe to slide down the wall, but was he ready to enter the Slums? It felt like an eternity to him since his imprisonment. He jumped off, using his scythe to slide down without consequences. At least for him. The king would have to deal with fixing the property damage he caused.

Spec walked up to the line separating the Slums and the other districts. The guards on duty didn’t notice Spec’s arrival. When they did, they ignored him. To them, he was a street rat that tried his luck in the Commonfolk District and failed, returning to the Slums where he belonged. 

“You got an identification card?” A guard asked. 

The other guard scoffed. “You really think somebody like that-” He pointed at Spec’s torn cloak. It had been ripped during the fight with Wick. “-would have an identification card. Hey kid!” He shouted.

Spec looked up at the guard, glaring at him. The guard froze, watching as Spec passed him without uttering a word. The first guard took a step back, allowing Spec to move past them without consequences. They were too afraid to stop him.

Spec glanced over his shoulder at the guards, shooting a final glare at them before disappearing from their sight. He ran towards Fisher Port and the other two ports---one of them being where he had his fight with Wick---to find Torrent and his base. Halfway into his run towards the port, he realized something. He was back in the Slums… and he hated that.

***

An hour passed before he reached Fisher Port, standing on a roof overlooking the port. Men in brightly red outfits guarded the main entrance, giving Spec the evidence he needed. Their outfits matched their names, Redbrights. 

Spec watched as two guys stepped out of the back entrance and approached the water. They were a far cry from where Spec stood at. The distance between them was longer than a mile, but Spec could tell that one of the men was his target.

He dropped off the roof and headed towards the men chatting next to the water.

***

“We need to kill Sartori before he grows too strong.” The first man, a muscular man dressed in a brown trenchcoat, declared. He had large hands that balled up into enormous fists. His body wasn’t any smaller than his fists, towering at seven-feet in height.

His head was scarred, one large scar going through his left eye. His black hair was balding, hiding it with a black hat. He didn’t want his competition to see his hair loss, seeing it as a weakness.

“How? He’s the self-proclaimed Ruler of the Slums?” The second man, a slightly chubbier man asked. He had a normal tee shirt---a size too small for his body---and wore black pants with a pair of black leather shoes. His bottom-half looked professional while his top-half wasn’t. “Him and his whole gang absorbed most of Wick’s remaining assets. Didn’t he also kill a lot of Wick loyals?”

The first man shook his head. “That’s why we need to kill him while in infancy. If he continues to live, he’ll be on the same level as Wick. We got rid of one dictator and now another one’s appointing himself.”

“I’ll contact some of my comrades. I’ll see if they’re prepared to kill him and crown ourselves.” The chubby man said.

The first man shook his head. “Torrent, we’re at a loss. Two or three small gangs won’t be enough to topple Sartori. I say we build a fleet and attack his base. We’ll cripple him with a naval battle. We’ll be at an advantage and we could force small gangs to submit to us. Our powers will-”

“Naval battles?” Torrent exclaimed. “I doubt we could win like that,” he turned around, facing the back entrance. “But that’s our only chance.” 

Torrent felt something bump into his back, nearly throwing him to the ground. The object was too heavy for Torrent to push himself off. “Damn it, Hank save me!” He exclaimed. However, Hank never came to his aid, forcing the short man to elbow the object and push with all of his might. The object collapsed next to him.

With the sudden weight gone, he turned around to see where Hank went or what was laying against him, realizing that it was Hank’s corpse. He was killed the moment Torrent turned his back on him.

“W-W-What h-happened” He stammered, watching as Hank’s blood poured out of his wounds and stained the gravel; turning it red. 

“I happened,” Spec muttered, appearing from behind Torrent. He had one of the scythe’s blades wrapped around Torrent’s neck, waiting to strike. “Tell me everything you know about this ‘self-proclaimed Ruler of the Slums’?”

“I… uh… I-I-I… He’s Raide Sartori. He was one… was one of Wick’s boys.” 

“He worked for Wick?” Spec whispered into Torrent’s ear.

“Yeah… yeah, he worked for Wick. Was one of his loyals. After Wick was killed by the-” Torrent noticed the scythe’s markings, realizing it was the weapon belonging to Black Hood, the man that killed Wick. “-by you, he took over and is pushing to take over the Slums. He wants full control.”

“Oh, he does? Well, then I’ll meet with him soon.” Spec muttered before slicing Torrent’s throat. He then threw his