Chapter 382: Neighborhoods
Two objectives, one goal, and hundreds of steps required. As the door closed and Xavier disappeared, Dasha faintly tasted umami and garlic.
No districts. Only neighborhoods. Only power. Only leaders. Alliances.
Xavier’s warnings had sat with him—that trying to understand and label every little bit of the Underground was foolish because it was always changing. Millions lived in this cramped shadowy walled society.
The map laid out in front of him was bought from a nearby store. Pencil-drawn, Dasha was able to edit and change it of his own accord. Make corrections and deductions as he saw fit.
Many neighbourhoods were ruled by bosses who clung to their power like wolves guarding their dens. Some of these bosses were little more than brutes, ruling through fear and violence. The brutes were the least of his concerns. After all, the brutes were subservient and hunted in packs. If greater strength came knocking on their door, they would bend the knee or die trying.
Enforcing territory through power at this current stage was foolish. After all, if Wang Lun ever figured out he was not a part of the Society or needed to recall his men, then there was nothing he could do about it. The first would lead to death. The second would lead to him losing power.
Dasha’s fingers traced the lines of the map, pausing on the Widow’s Den, directly behind where he was and where Xavier likely was now. The mid-time boss named Kuranosuke ran the Widow’s Den. The business relied too heavily on the whims of his clientele and on securing alliances with other neighborhoods. But too much of anything could led too much of a fall. Ultimately, he wanted to absorb the Widow’s Den into his growing empire.
Judging by its history and his own lack of history, that wasn’t within his means.
So that meant he had to continue to operate from the shadows.
Whether it was this world or the next, even with little power, Dasha could climb the hierarchy of power in very little time.
His grip on a dozen or so restaurants, stalls, and factories was a good start. It gave him a foothold in the Underground—a place where his presence was felt, if only in whispers. These businesses provided a steady stream of income and information. They allowed him to observe the ebb and flow of the city’s power dynamics, to watch and wait for the right moment to strike. But Dasha wanted more. He needed more.