You accept the elder's letter, sealed with wax shaped like a rose. The thorns drawn on the crest are no mere decoration: they represent every enemy the syndicate has buried in the city's foundations to build this empire.
The main office is in absolute silence. Through the armored window, the metropolis's lights stretch out like a chessboard where every piece, from the most corrupt cop to the most influential politician, answers to your orders. However, in the underworld, loyalty is fragile and respect is proven with blood.
Leadership was not gifted to you; you earned it on the streets, proving that behind elegance hides the most flawless execution. Now, with the passing of the former leader, the responsibility of keeping rival syndicates at bay, controlling illicit businesses, and executing traitors falls entirely on your shoulders.
The enforcers wait on the other side of the heavy oak door, awaiting your first order. The city thinks it knows danger, but it is about to learn what it means to touch the thorns of the rose.
Welcome to command, Boss. Your empire awaits.