It had been two weeks since Max's takeover and the rebranding of the gang. The moment everything was settled, he called Jake over, and the hunter wasted no time showing up with Jim.

Damian was honestly stunned by how efficient Jake turned out to be. In just a week, the hunter had transformed the entire gang.

Every single member now had a uniform bearing the emblem of the Crimson Scales—though without the mask.

Jake and Jim themselves also wore the uniform proudly, each of them sporting a sleek black mask to match the crimson theme.

The trio had pooled together all the money they'd earned from the association, and with that, they completely reinvented their base.

The once run-down warehouse was unrecognizable now. What used to be a gloomy, broken structure had been turned into something lively, refined, and full of personality.

From a shabby warehouse to a pub. Yes, a full-fledged pub. Jake had suggested that it would be the perfect front for their new operations—a place where business could mix with pleasure. What shocked Max most was how quickly they pulled it off.

The pub now stood boldly where the old warehouse once was, its brick walls smooth and painted a clean shade of dark red, accented with sleek black frames around wide glass windows.

A polished wooden signboard edged in gold hung above the entrance, engraved with bold lettering that could be read even from afar.

Soft warm lights glowed from fixtures above the doors, giving the exterior an inviting look. The double doors themselves, crafted from polished oak, reflected the light beautifully, while faint laughter and upbeat music spilled out into the street, hinting at the bustling energy within.

Inside, the pub was impressively wide—spacious enough to host nearly two hundred people without feeling crowded. The floor was made of dark varnished wood that gleamed under the golden lamps hanging above.

Tables were arranged neatly, paired with cushioned chairs that struck a balance between comfort and utility.

At the far end was a long counter with a smooth marble top, behind which shelves of polished glass bottles lined up perfectly. The bartender moved efficiently, pouring drinks and serving patrons in rhythmic motion.

Near the counter, a sleek black curtain hung against the wall in a way that seemed natural and decorative, but in reality, it concealed a secret.

Behind that curtain was a hidden door leading to a staircase that descended into a private basement—an area known only to Max, Jake, Jim.

Mounted high in one corner was a modest flat-screen television, clear enough for the men to enjoy sports matches or late-night shows while drinking.

The air was filled with the clinking of glasses, low laughter, and soft background music—a smooth blend of class and underground edge.

Thankfully, the association was wealthy enough to pay its hunters well. Being B-ranked hunters, Max and Jake both earned twenty thousand bucks a month, while Jim, being an E-ranker, received five thousand. Pooling their earnings with Jake's family allowance gave them enough to fund the transformation.

Tonight, about a hundred men filled the pub, laughing and chatting freely without wearing their uniforms. These were part of the Crimson Scales, enjoying their night while the others were stationed across town—keeping order, enforcing rules, and collecting dues.

Back when the Gray Bulls ruled, they extorted two thousand dollars from every resident without mercy. Now, under Max's reign, things were changing.

Those who couldn't pay were beaten down without mercy. But now, with The Crimson Scales taking over, the money had been reduced to about five hundred bucks, and to be honest, the townspeople were shocked by this sudden change.

The slum residents who couldn't afford the ridiculous amount before were finally able to pay the fee and still have enough left for the day's meal. For once, they could breathe.

Max had so many plans for the town. He just needed the right timing to set everything in motion. Signs and wooden boards were placed all around, announcing that a new pub had opened, one serving fresh alcohol and fine wine straight from the barrels.

Slowly, as night fell, people began trickling in, laughing, drinking, and forgetting their worries for a few hours. This was exactly where Jake's idea came to life to turn the gang's base into a pub that no one would ever suspect. That way, they could earn from both business and influence.

Kelly was put in charge of handling the counter, selling drinks, and entertaining customers upstairs, while Jake set up a private office in the basement a hidden space where the gang's core members could hold meetings and run operations smoothly.

"Mehn! Do you all really think this is a good idea? I mean, how are we going to handle both the association and the gang? It'll be stressful and drain us." Jim muttered as he glanced between Jake and Max, both focused on several books spread across the table.

"When are we returning to the association?" Max asked calmly, flipping through a few more pages.

"In three days. I still need to finish a few setups," Jake replied, his voice steady. "I also plan to head back soon. I've spent everything I had on getting this place running and ordering more uniforms for the gang. This isn't my home, it's yours. You grew up here.

But since you're my brother and you've got ties to this place, I can work with that and build something solid here." Jake spoke without lifting his gaze.

"But sire…" Jim began before freezing as Max shot him a death stare.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?" Max asked, frowning deeply.

"You're my idol. I can't help it," Jim chuckled nervously, scratching his head. "Anyway, I'm still in awe of how you managed to take over the gang in just one day. I'm honestly shocked."

"When he said he would do it, I didn't doubt him. Though I was worried, I knew he was capable. Dragons always are," Jake said with a grin, finally looking up at Max, who only shrugged.

"So, what's the next step?" Max asked, meeting Jake's eyes.

"Next step, huh?" Jake muttered, and a wide grin spread across his face. "It's simple — we get our name everywhere."

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