Chapter 31: The Coup

[POV: Ginny]

The rumors had been true… Jandar was dead. For Ginny, the confirmation wasn’t just news; it was an opportunity. With the throne of the Twinfist Gang now vacant, the position of boss was ripe for the taking. There was no way she would accept Stabs as the new leader. Stabs was nothing more than an errand boy, a tool to be discarded when no longer useful. The gang needed someone with ambition, someone with vision. Someone like her.

Ginny had never been one to chase after things that didn’t matter to her, but power? That was a different story. When she saw an opening, she took it without hesitation. She poured her charms, her coin, and every subtle manipulation she could muster into bending the right people to her side. Pietro proved to be a difficult piece on the board, guarded and calculating, but even he had a price. She promised him a share of the gang’s income for years to come, a deal sweet enough to secure his cooperation. Pietro was sharp, eloquent, and had the ear of the Thieves Guild, the only criminal force in Enmar capable of standing toe-to-toe with the Twinfist Gang. He was too valuable to leave out.

Hammer, on the other hand, had been easier to sway. Ginny only needed to send him a steady stream of whores, never mind if he treated them roughly. Hammer was a brute in every sense of the word, second only to Jandar himself in terms of raw violence. That was why she had placed her confidence in him… he was a weapon she could point at her enemies. She never imagined he would fall so suddenly.

But there he lay now, sprawled across the church floor, his body charred in several places, smoke curling from the wounds.

“May his next life be one of righteousness, lest karma strike him again, as it has today,” said the woman by the altar in a soft, solemn tone.

Ginny’s eyes snapped toward her. “You bitch! Did you do this?” Her voice was sharp, each word laced with fury. A rush of heat surged up her arm, and flames ignited along her skin. She didn’t care if the onlookers saw, her fire magic had always been her hidden ace, kept out of sight during Jandar’s reign. She had played the role of the pretty, harmless ornament, all while sharpening her claws in secret.

The lowlives surrounding her flinched back from the sight of her flames. Ginny turned her glare on Stabs. “What is the meaning of this, Stabs?” Her voice cracked like a whip, though deep inside, unease was coiling in her gut. Hammer had simply erupted in light and dropped dead. It had happened too fast, too clean, for her liking.

Pietro stepped between them, his tone careful but edged with impatience. “Can we calm down, please? Aren’t we here to meet the ‘new’ boss? Where is he?”

The nun turned her gaze toward the middle. “He’s here with us.”

The air in the church shifted. In the blink of an eye, a man appeared in the middle of the church, standing tall, his gaze locked on Ginny. He wore an all-black outfit, his eyes dull yet piercing, and faint arcs of electricity danced lazily along his fingertips.

To say Ginny was unnerved would be an understatement. This man hadn’t walked in, but appeared out of nowhere, materializing between the pews as if he had always been there. His dull, unblinking eyes locked on her, and faint threads of electricity snapped between his fingertips.

And yet… the nun. The woman stood there beside the altar, serene, unshaken, as though a man hadn’t just been killed in front of her. Inside her own church. Ginny found it baffling. Yes, the victim, Hammer, had been an irredeemable brute, but still. The sheer calm radiating from that woman made Ginny’s skin prickle.

“Behold,” Stabs said with almost theatrical reverence, “this is the master you now serve. This is Lord Renzo Takashi Cruz Williams—”

Such a long name. Was he a noble?

Stabs kept going. “He slaughtered Jandar with a mere flick of his finger, and gained rights to—”

“What the hell?” Pietro cut in, his voice sharp and angry. “Do we people have no loyalty? This is bullshit!”

Loyalty. Ginny almost laughed. Gangs had no sacred code, and no binding structure beyond strength and influence. And yet, they were still human. They understood loyalty… or at least the performance of it. Pietro, of course, was playing his own game. His outrage wasn’t for Jandar; it was a mask to hide the fact he wanted to twist the situation to his own advantage.

The rank-and-file members didn’t care who sat on the throne. Not unless they had worshipped the previous boss or stood to gain something from the change.

Renzo didn’t reply to Pietro’s outburst. He merely looked at him.

What happened next made Ginny’s breath catch. Pietro’s eyes went strangely vacant, their light snuffed out. Without a word, he drew a knife and drove it into his own arm. The sound of steel parting flesh was sickeningly loud in the stillness.

When life returned to Pietro’s gaze, it came with a scream. “Ah! Aaaah! AAAH! What happened?!” He clutched his arm, blood seeping between his fingers.

Ginny’s mind reeled. Mind control magic? No. That was impossible. No such thing existed… did it?

She snapped at Renzo before she could stop herself. “We came here to talk! What’s the meaning of this?”

It was only then she realized that the flames that had been roaring along her arm were gone. Snuffed out. Not by her choice. She had been… cowed. And he knew it. She could feel her momentum slipping away, while his grew with every second of silence.

“Sit down,” Renzo said, his voice flat and unyielding.

He turned his back to them, stepping onto the raised platform, stopping just beneath the altar. The air around him seemed to hum faintly with static.

“Let’s talk.”

The plan had been simple. Brutal, but simple. Use the weight of numbers, push with violence, and the gang would fold into her hands. Pietro’s role was to undermine the so-called “new boss” and spark the shift of power. That much had gone according to script, until the script had been torn apart and rewritten in her face.

Now Hammer was dead, and Pietro had been… put in his place in a way that made even Ginny’s stomach turn. Still, it wasn’t too late. She had her insurance, lowlives scattered among the crowd, planted to tip the balance if the meeting turned bloody. Between them and her standing in the gang, she could sway the tide.

Renzo’s voice cut into her thoughts. “I thought you wanted to talk. There’s the whore section.”

She flinched, eyes snapping toward where he pointed. Among the pews sat the women from her own brothel house, their painted faces uneasy under the church’s dim light.

“Why are you lot here?” Ginny demanded. “Didn’t I give orders for you to stay put?”

Renzo tilted his head. “Huh? Looks like there’s a misunderstanding.”

“There is none, Lord Renzo,” Stabs said quickly. “You wanted every ‘contributing member’ here, so I brought them.”

“I own them—” Ginny began, but her words died in a strangled gasp as white-hot pain exploded through her arm. She didn’t know what happened, except she blanked out for a second or two, One moment she was standing, the next she was doubled over, clutching her stomach as her right arm hung at a wrong angle, bone snapped clean through.

“Khh…” Her teeth ground together. “YOU FUCKER!”

“It’s a clean break,” Renzo said evenly. “The good sister should be able to reattach it if you cooperate. Find yourself a seat, and behave.”

Ginny forced her breathing steady. So, that was the dynamic. Her fire magic didn’t rattle him. Her theatrics didn’t even register. He wasn’t here to be intimidated.

Fine. She was done playing meek. “Get him!” she barked.

“I… I’m sorry, but I’d rather sit my ass down,” Pietro said, already slumping into a pew.

“Not talking to you,” Ginny snapped.

At her signal, ragged men and women rose from their seats and surged toward Renzo.

Then, he was gone. Vanished as if the air had swallowed him.

“Uh? He’s gone…” one of the lowlives muttered.

Even Ginny faltered. She hadn’t thought he’d flee. No, there was something else at play.

The nun’s calm voice carried over the growing unease. “We’ve already had several dead bodies in the church. It will be a hassle to deal with more. Please, Renzo… don’t kill them.”

A shiver crawled up Ginny’s spine as a scream tore through the air. One of her planted men was suddenly impaled, blade bursting from his shoulder, wielded by another lowlife standing behind him.