Hemlock didn't respond right away. For a moment, he just stared.
The words hung in the air, simple and clean, but they carried weight that didn't match how casually they'd been spoken. "I'm going to take down the Haven Syndicate." No hesitation. No doubt. Just a statement.
His expression shifted slowly, disbelief settling in first, then something sharper.
"You're serious," Hemlock said.
Kenta didn't answer. He didn't need to. That faint grin was still there.
Hemlock let out a short breath through his nose, then leaned forward as much as the ropes allowed. The bindings creaked slightly as he put pressure against them, testing them again out of reflex more than expectation.
"Only a fool," he said flatly, "would make a declaration like that."
He leaned back again, shoulders settling against the wall behind him as he exhaled.
"I'll give you this," he continued, his tone evening out slightly. "You're not your average fighter. That much is obvious."
His eyes flicked briefly toward Kenta.
"But taking down the entire Haven Syndicate?"
He shook his head.
"That's not ambition. That's insanity."
Kenta took another sip from his wine, completely unbothered. Hemlock went on.
"Their network isn't something you can just walk into and dismantle," he said. "It's everywhere. Every corner of this city, every alley, every backroom deal. They don't just operate in Hamone. They own it."
His voice hardened slightly.
"And the towns and villages around it? Same story."
He shifted slightly, adjusting his posture.
"They've got eyes everywhere. Informants, merchants, guards, even civilians. That's how we found you so quickly. You won't know who's watching you until it's too late, and that's just the surface."
Kenta tilted his head slightly, listening as Hemlock continued.
"They've got numbers too. Plenty of capable fighters. Not just thugs swinging blades around like idiots. People with real training. Real skill."
Kenta's grin widened just a little.
"Yeah," he said. "I figured as much. I'm not exactly expecting a walk in the park or anything."
Hemlock scoffed.
"You're still a fool. But," he added after a second, "a fool who beat me."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"That counts for something."
Kenta gave a small shrug. Hemlock exhaled again, then shifted his head slightly, as if organizing his thoughts.
"If you're serious about this," he said, "then you should at least understand what you're walking into."
Kenta didn't interrupt.
"The Haven Syndicate isn't just one big group," Hemlock continued. "It's structured."
He leaned his head back slightly against the wall as he spoke.
"There are a little over five hundred foot soldiers operating throughout the city," he said. "Spread out, constantly moving, handling smaller jobs, enforcing territory, collecting payments, and managingbusinesses owned by the syndicate."
His eyes flicked toward Kenta again.
"Those are the ones you fought last night. The bottom rung. Minus me, of course."
Kenta didn't react much to that.
"Above them," Hemlock went on, "the organization is divided into four main divisions."
He paused briefly.
"Each division has its own purpose. Enforcement, intelligence, trade, and business."
Kenta raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Each one is led by a captain," Hemlock continued, "and under each captain are four lieutenants, like myself."
"That's sixteen lieutenants total. All of them are stronger than your average street fighter. Some of them significantly more so."
Kenta nodded once, acknowledging it.
"And above all of them," Hemlock said, his tone lowering just slightly, "is the man who runs everything."
A brief pause followed as Kenta leaned in slightly.
"Jao Henderson."
The name lingered. Hemlock's expression tightened just a fraction.
"He's not just some crime boss," he said. "He's a beast. A real one in human flesh."
His eyes stayed on Kenta.
"One of the more feared masters in the Hades Alliance sect."
Kenta's grin didn't fade.
"If the stories are even half true," Hemlock added, "he's on a completely different level than anyone else in the entire city."
Silence settled for a moment. Then Hemlock shook his head slightly.
"You could probably handle the foot soldiers," he admitted. "Even most of the lieutenants."
His gaze hardened.
"But the captains? Henderson himself?"
He let out a quiet breath.
"That's a different game entirely."
He looked directly at Kenta.
"I've seen what they can do. You don't stand a chance."
Kenta clicked his tongue softly.
"Man," he muttered, "you really know how to kill the mood."
He sighed, rolling his shoulders slightly before taking another sip.
"You should relax a bit."
Hemlock frowned slightly. Kenta tilted his head.
"You haven't even seen me go all out yet."
The words were said casually. Too casually. Hemlock didn't respond right away. Something about the way Kenta said it lingered. Then Kenta paused, studying him.
"Why'd you tell me all that?" he asked.
Hemlock blinked once.
"What?"
"You just laid out your entire organization for me," Kenta said. "Structure, numbers, leadership."
He leaned forward slightly on the chair.
"That's not exactly something you do for someone who just knocked you out and tied you up. Hell, I didn't even torture you for it."
Hemlock opened his mouth slightly. Then stopped. His brow furrowed.
"I don't know," he said after a moment.
The answer came slower than before.
"I didn't really think about it."
Kenta watched him for a second. Then asked, plain and simple,
"Do you enjoy it?"
Hemlock's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Enjoy what?"
"Your work," Kenta said. "Being part of the Haven Syndicate."
Hemlock looked away for a moment. His head lowered slightly. For the first time since he woke up, there was no sharpness in his expression. No irritation. No edge. Just quiet. Then he let out a small, short breath.
"No," he said. "Of course not."
He lifted his head again, eyes settling back on Kenta.
"It's just like you said," he continued. "This world runs on strength."
His voice was steadier now, but there was something underneath it. Something heavier.
"I grew up on the streets of this city," he said. "I've seen what happens to people who don't have power."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"They get used. Beaten. Killed. So I made a choice."
His gaze hardened again, but not in the same way as before.
"If I couldn't beat them, I'd join them."
Kenta didn't interrupt.
"Learn from them," Hemlock continued. "Take whatever scraps of knowledge they were willing to throw my way."
His hands shifted slightly against the ropes.
"Get stronger so that then one day..."
His voice lowered.
"...I could destroy them."
Silence filled the room. Hemlock let out a quiet, humorless breath.
"But that's the problem," he said. "You don't just walk away from the Haven Syndicate."
His eyes flicked toward the window briefly.
"Once you're in, you're in."
He looked back at Kenta.
"I can't leave. Not like this."
His tone turned more resigned.
"And I can't get stronger without them. Not fast enough."
A faint shake of his head.
"So I stay. I endure. I take what I can, and I wait."
Kenta leaned forward slightly on the chair, resting his arms across the backrest again.
"What if I did it?" he asked.
Hemlock blinked.
"What if I actually destroyed them?" Kenta said. "The whole Syndicate."
He tilted his head slightly.
"How would you react?"
Hemlock let out a short, breathy laugh.
"I'd be jumping for joy," he said. "Celebrating in the streets."
Then his expression flattened.
"But it's not going to happen."
He shook his head.
"I've lived here my whole life. I've seen what they're capable of."
His gaze hardened again.
"People have tried before. Strong people. Smart people. They're all dead."
Silence followed before Kenta's grin slowly grew.
"Yeah," he said softly. "That sounds about right."
He stood up from the chair in one smooth motion, stretching slightly as he did.
"Doing the impossible," he continued, "defying expectations, going up against people stronger than you..."
He glanced down at Hemlock.
"That's my thing really. It's in my nature, because that's just the kind of guy I am."
Hemlock looked up at him. Something in his expression shifted. Just slightly. It was small. Barely noticeable. But it was there. A faint glimmer. Something uncertain. A glimmer of... hope.
"You really believe that," Hemlock said quietly.
Kenta didn't answer. He just smiled, and for reasons Hemlock couldn't explain, that was enough to make that faint, unfamiliar feeling linger just a little longer.