Chapter 540 - 540: Dante's Inferno.

The door spread open, and in came a procession of characters one would never expect to see in the same place. The first was the current boss of the Daggers, Henry Kukri. The grizzly bear of a man walked in with some of his subordinates, all dressed in sharp black suits. Guided by the staff, they went up the stairs to the VIP area.Soon after, another face shocked those in the know. He looked like a middle-aged man with a severe smoking addiction and an appetite that had long since left and never came back. Larry Swanson, a.k.a Dr. Frankenstein. Anyone who ever considered getting a bionic implant had him as their first pick for a surgeon.

Next came a group of dark-skinned Tenebrosans. They looked rough around the edges, as if ready to pick a fight with anyone who dared to bar their way. Leading them was a handsome young man with wavy black hair who seemed to be in quite a good mood compared to his entourage. People call him Gold Lion, the current boss of the Los Aros gang.

More famous, and outright dangerous people kept coming one after the other. The boss of the Midnight Ghosts, the gang that quickly took over Bone Crown's territory. Several Lieutenants from the Ghouls, a rising gang in White Hill. An envoy from the Chrome Goblins, a prominent gang from Graysteel.

The nightclub started to feel like a powder keg ready to explode at any moment. With so many dangerous people in one place, you can't help but wonder if a war is about to break out. Gangs don't usually get along, even if they never had any big conflicts before, so seeing them gather at such an event was like a very bad premonition. But that was only a part of the problem.

The owner of the club and the gang he leads were a bunch of nobodies who barely set foot on the starting line. Their feats were questionable at best, so one could only wonder how they managed to draw the attention of so many big names from Neo-Vatra's underworld.

Normal folk didn't seem to grasp the severity of the situation, so the festive atmosphere went on uninterrupted. Those who had planned on causing some trouble changed their minds, afraid to draw the ire of the prominent figures attending the club's grand opening.

The party seemed to kick into high gear around 10 PM, with talented artists from around the city taking turns delivering unforgettable performances. Once recordings of the event spread online, more and more people started showing up at the entrance, but the club had long since reached maximum capacity, forcing the staff to turn people around.

As the clock approached midnight, a rumor began to spread. The owner was going to make a speech and an important announcement, and its importance could not be underestimated. The minutes ticked by, and the tension began to rise. Even the civilians felt the shift in the air, and once the four zeros blinked onto the corners of their sights, the entire club went dark.

The music stopped, and the lights went off. People shut their mouths soon after, and just as nervous whispers spread through the crowd, a single spotlight came on, casting a circle of light on the stage. There, a young man with bright red hair stood.

He appeared like a normal guy, and the street clothes he wore only added to that impression. Some thought he was just some thug who wandered onto the stage by accident, but people recognized him before long, and excitement returned to the dance floor. That was when something very strange happened.

People's NIMs closed all applications and stopped responding to their commands. Most thought it was a glitch until they realized others were facing the same problem. A spark of panic almost ignited the crowd, but a cold voice put it out almost instantly.

"Don't worry, your implants are fine." All eyes turned to the stage as they realized it was the red-haired youth who spoke. "I have something to say, and I really don't like it when people film me. I also don't like it when people interrupt me, so I hope you understand."

And understand they did. Those who came to the Red Oni Club have heard all the rumors about its owner and what he was capable of. They also knew what losing control over their implants meant, and because of that, the idea of challenging what the youth said was snuffed out before it could even form.

"Thank you," he said, pausing momentarily. With the mic in his hand, he turned around and walked along the edge of the stage, one hand in the pocket of his jacket. "This might sound strange to those who know me, but I actually come from a pretty well-off family. And I mean really well off. Top 1%, even." He paused. "Things happened, and before I knew it, I ended up on the streets. I lost everything, but…" he turned to face the onlookers. "It wasn't all that bad."

Confusion spread among the guests, and they struggled to understand why the youth was telling them that. Their curiosity overflowed, and their interest grew.

"Don't get me wrong. These last five years weren't easy. The streets aren't very nice to a fifteen-year-old orphan with no money. Sometimes, it felt like I was falling deeper and deeper into hell, and just when my feet touched the bottom, I began to realize something." He shook his head, a wide grin spreading across his face. "I really like it here."

His words hung in the air for an instant, then the nightclub suddenly erupted with cheers. The message seemed to resonate with the young people. Though they didn't scrutinize it as much as they should have, the idea it sought to get across reached them, and that was more than enough.

"When you're up there, people only see what you have. When you have nothing, it's almost like you don't exist in their eyes. I lost everything, so as far as they are concerned, I might as well be dead. But I wasn't dead. I pulled myself up and stood on my feet. I learned to walk again, little by little. I met people, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was being seen for who I am, and not for what I have or who I know.

Even though it's hell, it's still my hell, and I wouldn't give it up for anything." His tone turned sombre. "These last few months, I have been forced to face the truth. Just because you hold on to something doesn't mean others won't try to take it from you. No matter how little you have, there will always be someone looking to rip it from your arms. Even if they don't want it. Even if they don't need it. They take, and take, and take, and if you let them, they will continue until all you have is your life, then they will take it as well."

As they watched with rapt attention, the red-haired youth turned to face the crowd. A sudden pressure fell on everyone inside the club, and even those outside felt it. The emotions they felt vanished, erased by the fear instilled into them by the youth's gaze.

"My name is Dante, and this is my hell. My Inferno." He said. "I would never give it up for anything, and I will fight to keep it, even if I have to burn the entire world with its fire. You are welcome to try and take it, but just keep in mind one thing." The smile finally returned to his face, but it wasn't the easygoing smile he wore before. Instead, it was a sinister smile, one that seemed to provoke a challenge. "Whether you live in the same hell or look down from atop those towers, if you come for us, we will come for you. We will show you that there are places in this world that hell itself couldn't compare to. If you fight us, we will fight you, and just so you know, we are the kind who will always stand, no matter how deep the hell you push us into."

~[ ]~

The speech set fire within the hearts of everyone who heard it, and that fire spread out uncontrollably. Even though it was carried by word of mouth alone, it took no more than two days before the news reached every corner of Neo-Vatra.

A new gang had been born in the heart of Hollowgrid. Inferno was its name, and its leader was none other than the fabled Red Demon—the Cyberpunk himself.

His speech had been a clear challenge to those who sought to rule the district ever since the war between Black Cross and the Blood Hounds ended. Many took him for an arrogant fool who let newfound power get to his head, but the coming weeks will show that he meant every word he had said.