Chapter 5 – Wolves Beneath the Night
I was doing what I always do at this time of night: delivering drugs. I know it's not legal, but legality doesn't matter much in the slums. Survival does. I'm not an Unnatural, which means I don't have any special talent or advantage here. No enhanced strength, no poison breath, no ability to turn my body into living shadow. I'm just Charlotte—a ordinary girl trying to keep her family afloat in a city that doesn't care if we live or die.
My little sister, however, is an Unnatural. In one week, she will take the Night Watcher Qualification Exam. If she passes, she'll earn the right to hunt void beasts beyond the city walls. Only those with an official Night Watcher badge can hunt legally and sell the materials. The money from those hunts could change everything for us. Without resources, she won't pass. Without passing, we're stuck here forever, rotting in the slums. So I do what I have to do. Even if it means walking through alleys that smell like piss and rotting meat while carrying packages that could get me killed.
I kept my head down as I walked through the dim streets toward the meeting place. The night air was thick with the usual stench—cheap cooking oil, sewage leaking from broken pipes, and the faint metallic tang of void energy that seemed to grow stronger every month. Streetlights flickered overhead like dying fireflies. I clutched the package tighter against my chest, feeling the weight of the powdered stimulants inside.
The meeting point was an old slum house that looked like it had survived longer than it should have. Its walls sagged under years of neglect, and the windows were boarded up with warped plywood. When I reached the door, I knocked three loud times and then three soft times. After waiting exactly three seconds, I repeated the pattern. It was the signal the gang had given me.
The door opened just enough for me to slip inside. I entered immediately without looking back, and the door closed behind me with a quiet thud. Inside, I kept my head down. In the slums, only members of the top three gangs can walk confidently without being told to lower their gaze. I belong to the sixth-ranked gang, the Shadow Wolves—the weakest of the six major gangs and the newest. I don't care much about rankings as long as I get paid, but the hierarchy still matters. Step on the wrong toes and you disappear.
I was led downstairs into the basement, which served as the real meeting area. The air down here was cooler but heavier, thick with smoke from cheap cigarettes and the sour smell of nervous sweat. I handed over the package I had been carrying to the side counter. Tonight wasn't for regular trading; it was for the leaders to discuss business. That meant the lower members stood along the walls like statues while the leaders sat at the large table in the center.
About sixty people were present, ten from each gang, no more and no less. Despite the number, the basement was spacious enough to hold everyone comfortably. In the middle was a heavy iron table with six chairs, each occupied by a gang leader. I lifted my head slightly to observe, careful not to stare too long.
From strongest to weakest, the gangs were ranked as follows: first, the Overlords; second, the Fallen Angels of Death; third, Silent Killer; fourth, Monster; fifth, Poison Master; and sixth, the Shadow Wolves—my gang.
Our leader, Rose, was known as the Wolf Queen. She was an Unnatural whose talent allowed her to transform into a three-meter-tall wolf. Her Physical Star Rank was 2, impressive for the slums. Only the leaders of the top two gangs could match her strength directly, and even they struggled if she used her wolf form. That strength was why our gang hadn't been destroyed yet. Rose sat with perfect posture, her silver-streaked hair catching the dim light, eyes sharp as she scanned the room.
The room gradually fell silent as Aadhav, the leader of the Overlords, stood up. He looked like a frail old man—thin, wrinkled, almost unimposing—but no one in the slums underestimated him. His nickname was "True Overlord," and it wasn't given lightly. Rumors said his Mental Star abilities could crush a man's mind without him lifting a finger.
"It's good to see all of you here," he began calmly, voice smooth as polished stone. "Though I doubt anyone enjoys pointless pleasantries."
The other leaders nodded in agreement.
He continued, explaining that the police had once again begun interfering with their operations. Normally, that wouldn't be surprising, but the pressure had increased significantly since a new police chief had taken control. The old bribery methods had stopped working. Payments were being refused. Officers who once looked the other way were now making arrests and seizing goods. Something had changed.
Knōdalon, the leader of Monster, stood up abruptly. He was large and muscular, built like a walking slab of concrete, with a talent called Strength Multiplier. His nickname, "Mindless Troll," wasn't entirely inaccurate. He slammed a fist on the table and suggested simply bribing the police as usual—or killing those who refused. His voice boomed through the basement like thunder.
Vishakaya, the leader of Poison Master, laughed openly at his suggestion. She was a beautiful older woman with light green eyes and a talent called Poison Mist. Her laughter was light and mocking, like wind chimes made of razor blades. She pointed out that the new police chief likely had political backing from higher up in the Great Void Nation. Simple bribery or murder would only bring more trouble. Her words dripped with condescension, irritating Knōdalon further. The tension between them crackled in the air.
Before the argument could escalate into violence, Kira, the leader of Silent Killer, spoke in a cold voice that silenced both of them immediately. His talent was unknown, but his reputation was enough to prevent further conflict. He rarely spoke, but when he did, even the Wolf Queen listened.
Zen, the leader of the Fallen Angels of Death, then explained the larger situation. Void beast activity had increased due to rising ambient void energy. Forest regions outside the city were thinning, leaving more unabsorbed void energy in the environment. This made void beasts more aggressive and unpredictable. The Night Watchers were preparing large-scale hunts, and the police wanted to stabilize the slums before those hunts began. If the gangs caused too much chaos during that time, the Night Watchers might be forced to intervene directly. No one wanted that.
Rose spoke next, her voice calm and measured. She pointed out that the police's plan depended entirely on the gangs not resisting. If they pushed back strategically—targeting weak points, creating distractions, and avoiding all-out war—the police would struggle without Night Watcher support. Her words carried weight. Despite being ranked last, her reputation commanded respect.
The discussion continued for nearly an hour. Voices rose and fell. Threats were veiled as suggestions. Alliances were hinted at and discarded. In the end, the leaders reached a decision: they would first weaken police influence in the slums before dealing directly with the new chief. Small operations. Targeted intimidation. Nothing flashy enough to bring the Night Watchers down on their heads.
After the meeting ended, we were ordered to leave separately to avoid drawing attention. I slipped out with the rest of the Shadow Wolves, my legs aching from standing so long. I took multiple detours on my way home, weaving through back alleys and ruined courtyards, just in case someone had been watching the meeting location.
That was when I felt it—the unmistakable sensation of being followed.
At first, I pretended not to notice. In the slums, showing fear too early invites danger. But when I saw the shadows behind me stop trying to hide, I knew I couldn't ignore it. Three figures. Maybe more. They moved with purpose.
I ran.
This wasn't careful running; it was desperate. My lungs burned. My legs screamed in protest. My cheap shoes slapped against cracked pavement as I sprinted through the night. I could hear at least three sets of footsteps chasing me. They moved confidently, not like random opportunists looking for an easy mark. These were professionals.
I turned sharply into a narrow alley and kicked over a rusted trash can behind me. It crashed loudly, spilling its contents across the ground, but the footsteps didn't slow. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst. If they caught me, I might never make it home again. My sister would be left alone. The thought gave me another burst of speed.
I rounded another corner at full speed and collided with someone.
The impact knocked me onto my back. Pain shot through my spine. I gasped, trying to regain my breath, and looked up to see who I had run into.
The moment our eyes met, a chill ran through me.
One of her eyes was pure black, like a bottomless abyss that swallowed all light. The other was blood red—deep, vivid, and unsettling. They weren't injured or glowing. They were simply wrong in a way that made my instincts scream danger.
Her face was calm, almost emotionless. It was as if my collision with her hadn't even registered as an inconvenience. She stood perfectly still, staring down at me with those mismatched eyes. Black hair framed a pale, scarred face. She looked young—no older than sixteen—but carried herself like someone who had already seen too much.
For a brief moment, I forgot about the men chasing me.
I wasn't afraid of gangs. I wasn't afraid of police. I wasn't even afraid of void beasts anymore.
But as I lay there on the cold ground, staring into those unnatural eyes, real fear crawled up my spine like ice water.
And she hadn't even spoken yet.
End of Chapter 5