The rain had been pouring down relentlessly for three days.
It pounded against the old council hall's iron roof, blending with the distant sounds of Majong City. Inside the hall, ten figures sat around a circular wooden table, each occupying a seat marked with the name of their notorious gang. Behind them stood their best fighters, ready to protect them if things were to go wrong.
These individuals were not nobles or officials, but were the apex predators of the city each commanding a notorious and powerful gang in Majong City.
Smoke curled lazily in the air, mixing the heavy scents of alcohol, blood, and gun oil.
At the head of the table sat Marcus Majong himself, the one who called this meeting. His gray hair framed his face, and his blue eyes were cold and intelligent. Despite being older, his presence demanded attention and respect. He wore a dark coat marked with the symbol of Majhong tiles of the Majong Gang, a symbol that represented the Majong Gang.
"The city is in trouble," Marcus said calmly, opening the meeting.
Everyone listened closely.
"We've lost two supply routes in the western district. The black market in the south has been taken over by outsiders. And scouts from other cities have already crossed into our territory."
A man with mechanical arms scoffed, interrupting the tension.
"That's not news," said Grimm from the Iron Wolves Gang. "What we really need to discuss is how long we're going to pretend not to know the reason behind this."
Eyes began to shift in Marcus's direction, their gazes lingering, but he remained unfazed. The decline of the Majong Gang was no secret to the others.
"The Majong Gang doesn't have an Anarch anymore," said Ivy, leader of the Blackthorn Gang. Her voice was smooth and sharp as a blade. She was a woman with a bounty of eighty six thousand credits, and her striking green hair added to her charm. "Without an Anarch, Majong City is like easy prey."
A low murmur ran through the room.
Marcus's eyes narrowed slightly.
"My father's absence doesn't mean the Majong Gang is weak."
Grimm laughed, his mechanical fingers tapping against the stone table.
"No," he replied. "But forty years without his power certainly does."
Those words hung heavily in the air, and everyone understood the reality. The Majong Gang's strength stemmed from its ability to produce an Anarch every generation. They knew that when Marcus was born, this unique ability vanished, and his descendants had yet to regain it.
"We've all lost territory," said Krell from the Bloodway Gang, a huge man with scars and a bounty over fifty thousand credits. "If things keep going this way, Majong City will cease to exist."
He leaned forward, seriousness in his tone.
"Other cities don't fear our numbers; they only fear an Anarch. If we don't produce one soon…"
He did not finish his words letting the implication linger in silence.
Marcus took a slow breath and glared at the gang leaders.
"So, you're all suggesting I step down?"
No one dared to agree or disagree.
With a dangerous smile, Marcus remarked, "I'm not someone who can be easily reasoned with."
Ivy crossed her legs, remaining calm as if she had long anticipated Marcus's reply.
"Open war would ruin the city," she warned. "And that's just what the outsiders are waiting for."
Grimm nodded.
"The Butchers of Flesh, the Shadow Serpents, even the Iron Republic gangs are watching us."
"And If we turn against each other, they'll come in and take Majong City piece by piece."
"And despite our dislike for one another, we all want to avoid that," he added.
Marcus closed his eyes momentarily.
"Then what's your solution?" he asked, seeking answers.
For the first time, the gang leaders leaned in closer.
"A tournament," Ivy proposed with a smile.
The room went quiet as the others looked confused.
"A tournament?" they murmured in puzzlement.
Ivy explained further, "A tournament involving all the gangs in Majong City! We're going to battle for the crown of Majong City."
"Each gang will send five of their strongest fighters and the winner gets to take the crown of the city!"
She paused for a moment, letting the excitement build. "We all know your gang won't easily give up the throne. So instead of trying to force you out, I propose you show everyone that you deserve the crown by proving yourselves in the tournament."
For just a moment, there was silence in the room, and then…
Grimm, one of the gang leaders, burst out laughing.
"Hahahahahahaha!" His laughter filled the room. "The strongest gang takes the crown of Majong City, huh? I like the sound of that!"
"And the rest submit," Krell added playfully. "At least officially."
Marcus drummed his fingers on the table, looking thoughtful. "And this helps us with outside cities?"
"It shows unity," Ivy replied with a smile. "Strength. Stability. Besides, they've all been waiting for us to fight among ourselves for the throne. This way, we can settle things cleanly."
Grimm shrugged, still chuckling. "Sounds like a great plan. Let's bring all the tough fighters of Majong City together for the crown!"
"Hahahaha!" His laughter echoed again, bringing smiles to the faces of the other leaders.
Marcus leaned back, then raised an eyebrow. "That's all well and good, but you seem to be overlooking one important detail."
"What's that?" Ivy asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Marcus leaned in, seriousness in his gaze. "Trust. How do we make sure that once it's all over, everyone keeps their promises? That those who lose won't start a war against the other gangs? We all know it's hard to trust one another."
Ivy smiled, clearly having expected this question. "We'll use a secret deed charter."
All the leaders paused for a moment, understanding the weight of that statement.
Finally, Gaze, one of the other leaders, spoke up. "You have a charter with you?"
Ivy's calm smile didn't falter. "Even though it's a big resource to give up, I believe it's much better than letting our beloved city fall apart."
The other leaders looked amazed. With the charter in hand, they felt reassured that there would be no betrayal in the end.
Marcus glanced around at the other leaders before saying, "Well, I suppose that settles it then! I'm looking forward to the tournament!"
Grimm's laughter burst forth again, boisterous and light-hearted. "Hahahahaha! Those are brave words, Marcus." His mechanical fingers danced against the table. "But let's not forget, aside from you, your family isn't quite what it used to be!"
The laughter slowly faded. Marcus turned to Grimm, and for a moment, the rain was the only sound in the room. Then, Marcus smiled—a friendly, warm smile.
"You're right," he said, with a nod. "The Majong bloodline doesn't inspire fear like it once did."
Grimm smirked, but Marcus leaned in closer, his hands resting on the table. "But remember this," he continued, his voice steady and calm. "I didn't agree to this tournament out of desperation."
His eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I agreed because I want to see how many amazing fighters Majong City still has left…and how many it can afford to lose."
Grimm's grin tightened, but Marcus leaned back, his smile remaining thin and enigmatic. "When it's all said and done," he said softly, "we'll see whose name will be remembered."