Ryden didn't realize his smile had sent his top lackey into a cold sweat.
He spoke casually, like it was nothing. "Fine. Take that guy in. Make him a low-level grunt. Remember-don't make life too easy for him, but don't make it too hard either. Give him trouble once in a while."
Marlos had been reluctant at first. Seeing an enemy was like seeing a walking pile of sh*t-disgusting on sight.
He hadn't expected the next line to excite him.
Marlos licked his lips. With the scar on his forehead, the expression looked especially sleazy.
"No problem, Master. I'll make sure he's properly taken care of."
The two plotted in the office for a while.
Outside, Lionel waited in terror. One moment he was dreaming about becoming a high-level thug. The next, he was imagining Marlos beating him to death.
After all, he had scammed a lot of money from him.
Time dragged on.
The two burly Black men beside him stared without blinking. Any thought of escaping vanished on the spot.
Waiting was the hardest thing in the world.
Especially when you were waiting for your own death.
Just as Lionel was about to break down completely, Marlos finally came out-along with a man wearing a mask.
"You trash. If it weren't for someone seeing potential in you, I'd shoot you right now," Marlos snarled. "Take us to where you live. You piece of sh*t. From today on, you're a member of the Spades Gang."
He leaned closer.
"Remember. You're the lowest of the low. Don't cause trouble, or I'll blow your dog brains out."
Every sentence was soaked in profanity.
Marlos wasn't usually this crude. The way he spoke made one thing clear.
He truly hated Lionel.
Lionel, who had been trembling in fear just moments ago, was suddenly overjoyed. He lunged forward, trying to hug Marlos.
Marlos kicked him away without hesitation.
The stench was unbearable. Forget Master Ryden-even someone raised in the slums like Marlos couldn't stand it.
Had this guy slept in a trash heap for a month?
It was revolting.
Ryden was fine. His mask filtered most of it, and he had secretly stuffed two lemon slices inside beforehand.
At least the air was barely breathable.
They followed Lionel.
The slums were flooded with filthy water, impossible to clean. Sanitation workers only came once in a while to sweep and dump trash.
Anything more was pointless.
The smells hanging in the air were enough to knock out a rat.
After weaving through countless dark alleys, they stopped in front of a rickety three-story building.
Ryden thought they were heading upstairs.
Instead, Lionel went to the stairwell and yanked open a door buried under a pile of junk.
A wave of rot rushed out.
People living here couldn't stay clean even if they wanted to. Their status and environment decided that for them.
Creeeak.
The door opened to a dark basement.
A single dim lightbulb hung from the wall, flickering as if it might go out at any second.
That weak glow was the only light in the gloom.
Ryden frowned.
Environment shaped a person's growth. Not everyone was born evil.
A tragic childhood could twist someone completely.
Legends like Dr. Doom, Magneto, and Lex Luthor didn't become villains for no reason.
If you wanted people like this as subordinates, you started with their childhood. You seized what mattered most to them.
You bound them so tightly they couldn't escape.
As a bastard, Ryden naturally used bastardly methods.
On the bed lay a woman, weak and unmoving. Two children huddled beside her, crying quietly.
Even in the darkness, Ryden noticed something.
The spark in their eyes hadn't gone out.
"Bastards!" Lionel suddenly shouted. "What are you doing?! Can't you see we have guests?! You parasites! I work myself to death every day, and this is how you behave?!"
He even raised his hand toward them.
Like they weren't his own children.
"Cough-cough!" The woman tried to speak, but all that came out was violent coughing.
The two children kept their heads lowered.
But hatred flashed through their eyes.
Ryden saw it clearly.
This was a perfect opening.
"Enough," Ryden said coldly. "You bastard. They're just kids. If you're this cruel to your own children, how do you expect to get anything done?"
He kicked Lionel to the ground.
Then he turned to the children.
Lex. And his sister, Lena.
The woman had to be their mother, though Ryden didn't know her name.
"They're coming with me," Ryden said. "I'm short a maid. But first, she needs treatment. We're going to the hospital."
He chose his words carefully.
Psychological warfare worked best when you took everything together.
Living under one roof would slowly produce results.
And besides-
Little girls were the cutest.
"Stop!" Lex shouted. "She's my mommy! Don't touch her!"
He was only five or six, small and thin, but he stood in front of her anyway.
He cared deeply.
Ryden raised his hands, showing he meant no harm.
"Sorry, kid. Your father lost a huge sum gambling. Your mother has to work for me to pay off the debt," he said calmly. "You can come along too. You might even get a full day's food."
He paused.
"I'll pay for the hospital. You can repay me later. Or-"
His voice turned flat.
"You can watch your mother die, then starve to death with your sister."
Lex went silent.
Slowly, he stepped aside with his frail body.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said quietly. "Please save my mommy. As long as she lives, I'll do anything for you."
"Me too! Me too!" a clear, bird-like voice added.
The little girl looked up with watery eyes, her face smeared with dirt.
"Alright," Ryden said. "Hospital first. You two need food as well."
He smiled beneath the mask.
"And from now on, call me 'Master.'"
Hehe.
Wasn't the point of having subordinates to make life easier so he could enjoy himself?
Expecting a stingy bastard like him to suddenly grow a conscience was impossible.
Unless there was profit involved.
Or the sun rose in the west.
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