While Ethan waited, Alfred, feeling surprisingly excellent thanks to the potion, quietly walked out of the back door of the house and into the alley. He wanted to see how badly the store had been damaged. Martha and Lilly were right behind him.

As they emerged from the alley and looked toward the back of the restaurant, they were confronted with a scene of sheer terror.

Two burly young men, dressed in clean, intimidating black suits, were efficiently hoisting the six moaning thugs, carrying them like sacks of potatoes and tossing them into the back of a large, black Suburban. They saw another older man, Jason, talking respectfully to Ethan, who stood calmly amidst the carnage. They watched the men load the thugs, climb into their cars, and watched as Ethan got into his BMW.

The entire group drove off in a coordinated convoy, leaving Alfred, Martha, and Lilly alone, totally petrified by the violent, organized power they had just witnessed their 'young student' friend unleash.

Ethan sped away from the pizzeria, leading the convoy. There was much he needed to discuss with Jason, but time was pressing. He didn't know who had orchestrated the attack, or if it was just a coincidence, but the storefront was eerily empty. He noted that, conveniently, no neighbors were loitering, as if everyone knew no one should be in the area at that hour, which only further annoyed Ethan.

[Look at how the world caters to you, Champion!] the System mocked in its loli voice. [The street was empty for the attack, and now for the cleanup. It's almost like everyone agrees you shouldn't face consequences. And here you are, worried about the guilt of almost screwing the wife of your savior, your probable mother-in-law! Truly, the most delightful degenerate—I'm so proud of you!]

Ethan's BMW follow the convoy of black SUVs into North End. Upon arrival, they pulled up near the zone where the new headquarters of the former Dukes was located.

Ethan got out of his car and looked at the imposing, yet dilapidated, building.

"Jason, what are we doing here?" Ethan asked his right-hand man. "This looks like an abandoned ruin. I thought you were setting up a professional front."

Jason, looking sharp in his suit, walked up to Ethan, giving a respectful nod. "This is the professional front, boss. It just needs a little work," Jason said.

"Explain," Ethan said, looking at the ruined building.

"We had to abandon the name Dorchester Dukes entirely to avoid association with our past," Jason explained. "Following the suggestions from Lena and our lawyer, Davies, we created a legal identity. We are now known as Royal Private Security."

"Royal Private Security," Ethan repeated, savoring the name. "And this building?"

"This site is central to the massive district construction project," Jason continued. "The plan is for us to be the central security unit—legally hired and contracted. Davies is already working on the zoning permits and, more importantly, securing firearm permits for all 250 men."

Jason smiled, anticipation gleaming in his eyes. "Davies is currently processing the paperwork to arm all 250 of our new recruits with pistols and rifles. We're also scouting for armored trucks, designing logos, and filing corporate registrations to make everything look as legal as possible. This ruin, boss, is where we begin building the legal empire," Jason finished.

While Jason spoke, chaos erupted behind them. Falcon 1 and Falcon 2, along with other muscular members of the new Royal's, dragged the six injured thugs out of the SUVs.

The six men moaned and crawled, but the new recruits showed no mercy. They violently kicked and hauled them into the ruined building, punishing them for daring to interfere with the Boss's family.

Ethan smiled grimly as he watched the thugs being dragged away. "That is an excellent idea," he told Jason, his focus returning to the business of war. "We need all the firepower we can get. Do not spare any expense. I want every man armed with the fullest arsenal available, and file the necessary permits to use the highest caliber weaponry possible—explosives, helicopters, everything necessary. If anyone messes with us, they need to feel the full weight of hell."

Jason laughed, clearly energized by the aggressive mandate. "Of course, Boss. Consider it done."

"What happened with those six scumbags, anyway?" Jason asked, his expression hardening as he looked toward the building entrance.

"They attacked Alfred's pizzeria," Ethan explained, his eyes narrowing.

Jason's amusement vanished instantly. "They what?" Jason said, his voice turning cold. "Alfred is a good man, and that family... those bastards crossed the line." He paused. "We'll destroy them. I'll make sure to get the full truth out of them right now."

"They already gave me a name," Ethan said, stopping Jason before he could move. "They named Aaron Jenkins as the point man and said the job was ultimately for Olympus. It seems we are destined to have a war with them one way or another."

Jason swore under his breath. "Olympus. Those untouchable bastards."

"Here's the plan," Ethan dictated, his tone dropping to one of cold strategy. "I don't want anyone to know we have any connection to Alfred or his family. Handle this like an accident. I want you to make Olympus believe that Royal Private Security is pursuing them—that this is strictly personal between Royal and Olympus."

"We need them to think it was a coincidence that they targeted Alfred, and that they only angered our crew, not their true target," Ethan continued. "And most importantly, they must never suspect that I, Ethan, am involved with this operation or with the pizzeria's defense."

Jason nodded slowly, comprehension dawning on his face. "You want to draw their fire onto our new shield and keep the rest of your life clean. Consider the message delivered, Boss. Olympus will think we're just an aggressive new gang looking for a fight."

"Oh, of course we want a fight, more than a fight it'll be a massacre," Ethan said with a serious look.

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