hieves, dragging their limp bodies toward a large, matte-black vehicle that had arrived on the scene. This vehicle was no ordinary car; it was built for underground soldiers, armor

a Terminals, tapped a message into his smartwatch. He quickly

is screen. He smiled; his plan had worked perfectly. H

Terminals quietly left the scene, lea

d. Sirens blared in the distance before several police cars pulled up outside the gallery. The

eyes as if trying to wake from a strange dream, others stretched their arms, and a few looked around in pure confusion, wondering how they had ended up on

yebrows and muttered, "What in the world happened here?" His colleague, Officer James Kennedy, standing beside him,

t and disoriented. No one seemed hurt, and strangely enough, there were no signs of a struggle or pro

pened here?" he asked, but his question was met with blank stares and unsure shrugs. No one seemed to have a clear memory of what

th sensing that something was ver

o piece together what had happened. As they questioned each g

woman said, rubbing he

here," a young man rep

elderly man added, blinking rapid

icer James Kennedy exchanged skeptical glances. Was this some sort

ows. There were no signs of forced entry, no broken glass, no damaged locks. Nothing seemed out of place. They found the building's security c

They couldn't find any common connections among the individuals. Some were local art lovers, others were

ere no signs that anyone had been drugged, and no one could explain why they had passed out. The situation was co

or more questioning," he said to his team. Slowly, the individuals were escorted to the police vehi

the strange events at the Belluva Art Gal

ows, lighting up the room in a calm, golden glow. The family was having a typical Mafia-style breakfast, enjoying fresh croissants, slices of ham, eggs

who was quietly sipping her coffee. She held the cup delicately, her long silver hair falli

with Sophia?" he asked, loo

a is a great sensei. She pushes me hard, but I'm lea

she's a good sensei," he agreed, kn

milla is doing great with her trainin

the Televidion. Something on the screen caught her attention, a

The Television showed a scene of people stumbling to the

ysterious Gathering a

reen. "What on earth happened there?" she said

scious on the floor of the Belluva Art Gallery. Police say there are no signs of forced ent

stions. "How could something like this happen? Do

he work of another Mafia family, maybe even an ally, but they couldn't let Cam

figure it out," he said, shaking his

the bottom of it soon," Alexis a

n that whoever was behind it had likely been taken care

amilla. "Just remember to focus on everything Sophia teaches you,

g the table to head off to work. The day was just be

walls were thick and the air inside felt cold and heavy. The prisoners locked up there were notorious; men and women who had run crimina

atons and tasers. Their boots echoed in the long corridors as they moved up and down, making sure that security was tight. The guard

ante" painting from the Belluva Art Gallery. Pablo, along with two of his soldiers, walked down the cold hallway toward the cell where the s

ble way to escape. Some were trying to pick at the locks with pieces of metal they had found. Th

calmly. "You might need it to talk." His tone was cool but fi

down his cheek, spat on the ground in defiance. He stepped forward, gripping

ou were smart enough to try. But I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to make sure y

nsion grew, but it was clear to ever

g against the bars. "You'll have to bite me to ma

plied. "But I'm afraid you wouldn't survive my fangs. Alenzio Marcus; the notorious go

f Willowbrook, who had disappeared without a trace two years ago. Most believed he'd gone into hid

"And Alenzio? He's looking forward to meeting each

mask his fear. "You're lying," he challenged, forcing his voice to sound bold. "Every

nzio Marcus, in his own little cell down the hall." He leaned in slightly. "But first, you have sixty seconds to say the name of

rd, and with a sudden movement,

olunteering," he said. "Grab him," he ordered his soldiers,

arms. Their grip was unbreakable, and he struggled, but it was no use; he couldn't even move his body. With steady st

here the other thieves were held. The silence grew thicker as they approached the apartment, and the thief'

he room looked like a hospital operating room; clean white walls, gleaming metal trays with var

hick, leather belts. The thief struggled against their firm grip, but his efforts were useless. He wasn't sure whether he

mouth masks with quiet, practiced movements. The thief watched, feeling a pit of drea

glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Dressed in a crisp white lab coat and carrying a tray with syringes and

said with a cold smile, setting the

the doctor with wide, fearful eyes. "We're ready

shred of courage slip away as he realized this wasn't a