December 5, 1904
"Who? Who destroyed my establishments?" Konstantin roared inside his study. He had been enjoying a prosperous year, even in these troubled times. Despite the unrest in the city and the war consuming the country, his business, underground betting, and gambling dens, were flourishing. People always found their way to his establishments when they were desperate, grieving, or simply seeking pleasure.
But the news that greeted him upon his return from vacation shattered that prosperity. His men from the slums brought word of disaster, his establishments there had been attacked. His gambling den, his pleasure house, and even one of his warehouses where he stored his goods, had been struck. The thought of it sent his blood pressure soaring. Rage boiled inside him. He wanted to rip apart whoever had dared to cross him. Yet he didn't even know who they were.
Once he forced himself to calm down, he rose and began pacing across the study, heavy steps shaking the floorboards. Who could it be? Rivals? No, no, no. Not now. In these times, they knew better than to stir trouble, not with the politsiya and the Okhrana prowling the city on high alert. They would never risk bringing that kind of heat on themselves. He considered old grudges, past enemies, but none seemed bold, or foolish, enough to strike him like this.
The slum establishments was only one of many he owned in the city, but it was one of his biggest, one of the most profitable. That den had never been touched by the politsiya or the Okhrana, they didn't care about the slums. That was why it had grown so lucrative, so secure. Until now.
He stopped pacing and glared at the men before him, his eyes narrowing. "When? And how did it happen?"
When they hesitated, his temper exploded again. "Speak! How did this happen? Who did it?" His roar shook the room, and he had to pause, gasping for breath, his large belly heaving with each ragged inhale.
At last, one of his henchmen, Ivan, gathered enough courage to step forward. "It happened last month, my lord," he began nervously. "At first, we thought it was one of our rivals from another district. We confronted them, warned them, but they swore it wasn't them. We didn't believe it at first, but then the attacks continued. We even set men to watch their movements, but they made none. That's when we realized something wasn't right."
"We began to suspect the politsiya, that maybe they were targeting us. But the ones we bribed swore they knew nothing of it. They only warned us to stay low. Still, the attacks didn't stop. They kept ransacking our establishments in the slums, one after another. Even the reinforcement from other districts didn't dissuade them to stop. And then, last night, they struck our last stronghold there. They killed every man inside. We were lucky to escape, boss, lucky enough to bring you this news."
Ivan bowed deeply, trembling as he finished.
Konstantin sat down heavily in his seat, creating a loud thud across the room. His men flinched at that. He tapped the armrest of his seat and began thinking about who could do something like this. Destroying his hard work like it was nothing but an eyesore to them. They didn't even spare his men. After a while he spoke angrily, "Why was not I informed the first thing something like this happened? You guys know where I was having a vacation. Why can't you guys send someone to inform me?"
Ivan, seeing that his boss did not lash out, spoke more confidently, though the tremor in his voice was still there. "It was Fyodor who insisted we shouldn't disturb your vacation, boss. He said you had barely taken a break in ten years and that we should handle this ourselves. But when we failed to stop the attacks and finally decided to tell you, it was already too late. We were struck again and again until yesterday, when we were nearly annihilated. Thankfully, you returned earlier than expected. You can solve this problem like you always do." He forcefully smiled as he finished.
What Ivan and his comrades did not dare confess was that the attacks had all been carried out by a single man. Even he, a seasoned fighter, had not believed it at first. But after witnessing the chaos and slaughter during the attack of one of their establishments, he had been left shaken to the core. The man's speed, precision, and ferocity were unlike anything he had seen before. Ivan, who prided himself on his strength, had been the first to flee when the fighting turned against them.
"And where is he now? Why is he not here?" Konstantin asked through gritted teeth.
"He's dead, boss. He was struck with a knife in the head while we were fleeing," one of his men replied.
Konstantin's hand tightened around his cup before hurling it straight at the speaker. The poor lad barely had time to flinch before it smashed against his forehead.
"Ugh!" The man collapsed to the floor, bleeding.
Konstantin didn't spare him a glance. Fury consumed him as he swept everything within reach from his desk, sending papers, ledgers, and ink crashing to the ground. Fyodor was his nephew, the last family he had left in this world. He had promised his dying sister that he would protect her son, and now… now he was gone. Grief and rage clawed at his chest until he could scarcely breathe. His business was under attack, his men slaughtered, and now this.
He forced himself to draw in deep, ragged breaths. At last, his voice rasped, "Where is his body?"
Ivan glanced at his comrades. None dared to lift their heads, much less speak. With no choice, he stepped forward. "We… we haven't recovered it yet."
Konstantin's eyes narrowed, his hand twitching toward the desk for another object to throw.
Ivan quickly blurted, "I'll send someone to retrieve his body right away!" He turned toward the door, moving as fast as he could, desperate to escape before Konstantin's wrath found him.
But just as his hand reached for the handle, the door slammed open. Ivan froze, his eyes widening in shock at the figure before him. Before he could utter a single word, a knife buried itself in his temple.
Konstantin choked back the words he was about to hurl at Ivan as he watched him collapse to the floor. He hadn't even processed what had happened when chaos erupted. His men shouted in panic, some lunged at the intruder, while others scrambled for the door as though they had seen a demon.
But the figure moved like a phantom. One by one, his men dropped where they stood. Those who tried to flee didn't even make it past the doorway before their bodies fell lifeless to the ground. The movements were so swift, so precise, that by the time Konstantin regained his senses, the study was littered with corpses.
A sudden warmth spread down his legs as his bladder gave way. Staggering backward, he stared at the intruder with wide, trembling eyes, terror gripping him like a vice.
When the intruder finished surveying the room and turned to him, he spat, "Who… are you? My men will be here any moment. You're dead." He clung to the desperate hope that reinforcements would burst through the door and buy him time to escape.
Trying to stall as he waited for his men, he suddenly remembered the revolver at his side. With trembling hands, he reached for it, but before he could draw, a knife buried itself deep into his shoulder. He let out a sharp cry of pain. Desperately, he reached again and managed to pull the revolver free, but before he could aim, the intruder was already upon him, driving a brutal kick into his gut.
"Ugh." He doubled over, vomiting up the food he had eaten that evening. When he was done, the intruder yanked him upright and dragged him back toward his seat behind the desk. The intruder then picked up a fallen chair, set it down, and calmly sat on it. Without even sparing him a glance, the intruder began to whistle. He couldn't tell how much time had passed until the intruder finally glanced at the clock on the wall and said, "Has that been enough time for you to realize no one is coming to save you?"
Dread consumed him. Now he knew he was a dead man. His only hope was that the intruder might grant him a painless death. He knew it was hypocritical to even wish for that, he had never shown mercy to his own enemies, ensuring their ends were slow and agonizing. But now, facing the other side of that cruelty, he could not bear the thought of suffering the same fate. Still, before death claimed him, he needed to know what sin had brought this demon upon him.
"What have I done to you? Who are you?" he asked, his voice trembling.
The intruder remained silent, staring at him as though he were nothing more than an insect. At last, a deep, chilling voice rumbled from the intruder, making him shiver.
"No one."
He understood then that this was no man for games, bluster would not save him. So he begged, voice hollow with surrender, "Please…. give me a swift death."
The intruder inclined his head once. "Answer my question first."
A cold acceptance settled over him. He nodded slowly, the last of his defiance draining away. With aching limbs and a hot knife buried in his shoulder, he eased himself into the chair as best as he could and clutched the wound, every movement a reminder that escape was no longer possible. Hope had left him; only a dull, inevitable waiting remained.
"Where do you hide all your money?" the intruder asked, eyes boring into him. He knew that look, an interrogator who would know a lie before it left his lips, so he told the truth. "There is a hidden door behind that painting," he said, nodding toward the canvas.
The intruder rose, pulled the painting from the wall, and revealed the small secret door. "Stand up and open it," he ordered.
Konstantin gritted his teeth and rose slowly. He crossed the room, worked the hook where the painting had hung, and felt the latch click. As the door swung open, his hoard lay exposed, rubbles, coins, small amounts of silver and gold bars, and the hard-won treasures he had amassed over the years. He glanced at the intruder. "This is all I have."
The intruder peered into the recess but did not begin to gather the cache. "Bring me that gold bar," he said flatly.
For a flash, the urge to strike flared in Konstantin, no one had dared to order him like that. But the terror of what he had witnessed stilled him. He stepped into the alcove, lifted a heavy bar of gold, and handed it over.
"You promised to give me a swift dea….." he began, but the sentence died on his lips. Darkness closed over him before he could finish.
—-
Alexei frowned as he looked at the body on the floor. This was the first gang boss he had killed, and to his surprise, it had been so easy. He hoped the others would be the same. Tearing his eyes away from the corpse, he turned to the small treasure before him and allowed a faint smile to form behind his mask. At last, he had seed money for his future endeavors in the shadows.
He whistled, and the minions who had accompanied him throughout the fighting appeared at the door. They hadn't truly fought, they only watched as he carried out the killings and then looted whatever they could find in the establishments they attacked. Still, he hoped it was enough for them to understand what their future would be.
"Find some sacks and pack these things first," he ordered, gesturing toward the small room. When his minions saw what was inside, they broke into celebration. Wide smiles spread across their faces, and Alexei found it amusing. They knew they would not feel the hunger of the past with what lay before them.
After their brief celebration, they set to work. With experience from previous lootings, they moved with practiced efficiency and organization. It didn't take long for them to finish packing before they began searching the rest of the house for anything else they could carry. When Alexei finally called for them, they gathered and departed together.
—---
Alexei sat down and drew the revolver he had looted. It wasn't anything fancy, but as long as it worked, he was satisfied. He couldn't help but smile, his parents had been so strict about him owning a revolver or a rifle, yet a single sweep through the slums had yielded five revolvers and three rifles, ammunition included. At last he could practice firing in secret, without them knowing.
He slipped the revolver back into the latch at his side and drew it again, repeating the motion until the posture came naturally. He knew that a faster draw would give him the edge against his future opponents. He only stopped when he heard the door open.
Anna came in with a thick stack of documents in her hands. She set them down on the desk in front of him and sat opposite him. She exhaled heavily, a sigh of both relief and exhaustion. "You're giving me so much work. I don't know if I can keep up with this workload."
Alexei smiled. "You have plenty of little secretaries helping you. I know you can handle it. Besides, look at the bright side, the children won't go hungry anymore. You can also start recruiting those we turned away before, when we didn't have enough food."
He knew she loved her work. It was just that things had been hectic lately because of the campaign he pushed forward, even though they hadn't been fully prepared. Fortunately, the campaign had gone smoothly. They had even come away with gold bars and a large sum of money. Still, he couldn't understand how the weakest gang in the city had managed to get their hands on gold bars. All he could do now was hope that no one would come looking for them.
Anna glared at him before organizing the stack of documents she had brought. "This one details how much money you guys have looted, and this one…" She began handing him each document in turn, and Alexei scanned them one by one.
He had to make sure everything was accurate and properly organized. He needed to establish a solid foundation for structuring their operations, especially as their fledgling organization continued to grow. Order was essential if they were to move forward, and he was determined not to let it become a loose, chaotic group.
When they finished, Alexei leaned back and couldn't help but chuckle. "Ten gold bars and a hundred seventy thousand rubles. That's a lot."
"Of course it's a lot! This is the first time we've ever seen gold bars. We could buy a house bigger than this, not just one but ten times over if we wanted." Anna said excitedly.
The fact that they still hadn't bought the house they were living in was always a concern for her, especially since the landlord constantly tried to raise the rent whenever he saw how many children crowded inside. Fortunately, with what they had now, they could easily afford it, or even buy the house outright if the landlord tried again.
"Make sure the children are tight lipped about this. We can't let this matter spread. We don't know whether those we attacked had ties to the larger gangs in the city. We can't afford to fight them yet." Alexei warned, the gold bars already ringing alarm bells in his head.
"Don't worry. Only your trusted minions and my little secretaries know," Anna replied, her tone grave.
"Good." Alexei nodded.
"And what shall we do with the money? What about the establishments the gang left behind?" Anna asked.
Alexei hadn't truly decided what to do with the money yet.
After a moment, he began, "As for the money, use some of it for living expenses first. I know you're already thinking about the children we turned away, start recruiting them, but be sure they understand what they are joining. For the establishments, let the uproar we caused die down first. Then we'll move in and manage them once we're confident we're not suspected. We'll see how it goes from there."
Anna nodded slowly. "Alright, but are you sure you want to continue their business? I mean, the pleasure house and the gambling den? It's risky." She had seen what the girls endured in the pleasure house, and she hated it. The thought of carrying on such a trade sat heavy in her chest. Besides, neither of them had any real experience managing places like that.
"These businesses are already part of our society," Alexei replied firmly. "Do you think if we don't run them, others won't move in and build their own pleasure houses and gambling dens? They will, and our efforts these past months will be in vain if they gain a foothold in what we considered our territory. That's why I think it's better if we take control. That way, we can set the rules for the establishments ourselves. In fact, we don't even need to run them directly, we can just collect a protection fee and let others manage them. We only need to make sure the new owners are residents of our territory."
Anna bit her lip, torn. She despised the idea of continuing such businesses, but Alexei's words made sense. If outsiders moved in, things could turn out even worse for the people under their care. Still, the thought of running such establishments gnawed at her.
Alexei, on the other hand, felt the weight of pragmatism settle on him. He didn't like these businesses either, but power came with hard choices. To him, securing control was the only way forward, morality be damned.
Seeing that Anna remained silent, Alexei continued, "How about this, when the time comes, you can set the rules you considered acceptable. For example, not forcing women to work in such places if they don't want to. You can start with that."
Anna felt a small weight lift off her chest. She still disliked the idea, but at least Alexei was willing to give her some say in shaping it. The thought of protecting even a few women from coercion gave her a sliver of hope.
That was enough to make her reply. "Okay."
Alexei exhaled quietly, relieved that she had at least agreed to compromise. He knew she struggled with his decisions, and part of him feared she might resent him for it. Hearing her acceptance reassured him, even if it was reluctant.
"Any other matters you wish to discuss?" he asked.
Anna shook her head. "No, that's all."
She wanted to bring up a hundred more worries, but she knew he was already carrying so much on his shoulders. Better to save them for later than to burden him now.
"Then, are your brothers and the others asleep?" Alexei asked.
"They're still talking downstairs last time I checked," Anna replied.
She wondered what Alexei planned to tell them. Whenever he called her brothers into a serious discussion, she always worried it meant new responsibilities, or new dangers.
"Can you call them here, please, if they're still not sleeping? I have something to talk to them about," Alexei requested.
"Alright." Anna stood up and began gathering the documents on the table.
He watched her work in silence, appreciating her diligence. Without Anna, he knew the organization would already be falling apart. She wasn't just secretary material, she was the one keeping everything grounded.
After she finished, she nodded to Alexei and walked out. It didn't take long before his minions arrived.
"Master, we're here," Sergey announced as he walked in with his twin brother Ivan, followed closely by the others.
Alexei straightened in his chair. Seeing them ready and loyal gave him confidence. They were young, yes, but they were the seeds of the force he was building.
"Find some chairs to sit on, the others will have to stand, sorry for that" Alexei said.
"No need to worry, Master. This is nothing compared to the training lately," Ivan replied, settling into a seat.
Alexei had recently increased the difficulty of their training. He had no choice, he was moving forward with his plans.
"What did you make of what you witnessed?" Alexei asked. He needed to know how they felt about the killings he had carried out. He would not keep men who could not share his views, those who disagreed could be sent to Anna or reassigned to the jobs they have in the slums.
"You're amazing, Master. I don't know how you move like that. Do you think we can be like you?" Sergey answered, excitement bright in his voice, clearly not understanding the danger they would face if they were the ones fighting.
Alexei's tone turned serious. "I'm not talking about me. I'm talking about the fighting and the killings I did." His stare made Sergey uneasy, Ivan watched Sergei with a faint, amused smile.
After a moment, Ivan spoke up. "I think it was too bloody, Master. There were times we thought you might be stabbed or shot, but you still managed to kill them. It was dangerous.""
Alexei nodded at that, pleased that Ivan understood the danger he had put himself in. He then looked at the others, especially Nikolai and Oskar, the eldest in the room at sixteen years old. They had been the first to join the group, barely surviving the hunger when Anna found them. In their childhood, they had worked at the docks but were eventually forced out by their rivals.
"I think the same as Ivan, Master. It was too dangerous and too bloody," Nikolai said when Alexei met his gaze. The first time they had seen their master's slaughter at the first establishment, many of them had been sickened, some had even thrown up. A few had quit outright after the second attack. Nikolai had seen death before, but this was another level entirely, he was both shocked and oddly grateful to train under someone like Alexei.
"Right. I think so, too," Alexei agreed. He refused to soften the reality of what lay ahead of them. He wanted them to see what they would be doing before he taught them the art of killing. He needed decisiveness and commitment, hesitation would only get them killed.
When no one else spoke, Alexei explained why he had called them together. He intended to intensify their training, and backing out would no longer be an option. Anyone with doubts or hesitation was to leave the room immediately.
Fortunately, no one left. There were only fifteen of them now. At first, there had been twenty-five, but many were filtered out after failing to stomach the bloody scenes they had witnessed. Alexei then told them that training would begin the next day and urged them to rest, warning that he would not go easy on them. After saying their goodbyes, they left the room.
Left alone, Alexei sighed. He hoped that none of them would back out once they experienced the brutal training he planned to introduce. Standing up, he stretched and checked the time, noticing that dawn was nearly upon him. Deciding to go home, he walked out of the room and found Anna talking with his brothers, clearly trying to learn what had been discussed. But he didn't bother with it.
"I need to go now. You guys should get some sleep. You still have work in the morning," Alexei said.
Anna looked at him with a complicated expression. "Okay. You take care too."
Alexei nodded, then reached out to rub the twins' heads one by one. They were two years older than him, but he towered over them.
"Listen to your sister always, hmm?" Alexei said.
"Always, master," Sergey answered eagerly, while Ivan only nodded in silence.
With one final rub of their heads, Alexei turned and left.