Naga POV

  Naga strode to the central fire pit of their camp and spun to face Sid. The rich, savory scent from the smokehouse hung thick in the air, unmistakable even though the structure sat well out of earshot. It should, however, be deserted. There was no reason for anyone to be manning the fires when they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of a wild boar since yesterday.

  As the camp swelled, so did the number of monster attacks. Naga suspected the noise and scent of the growing crowd acted as a beacon, leading the monsters right to them.

  A small camp could survive on handshake agreements and easy scavenging. This new, sprawling crowd could not. The sudden growth spurred Naga to action: he assigned formal roles and built infrastructure, transforming a loose band of survivors into a functional settlement.

  Naga had built the smokehouse first. The camp had grown sick of mushrooms—the monotony killing their appetites and ruining morale. Cured meat fixed that. And the frequent monster attacks provided a steady supply of it. While deer was a rare delicacy, the forest teemed with wild boar, making it a common, hearty meal.

  While the menu improved, raising the camp’s spirits, it masked a logistical problem. They consumed what they caught, leaving no time to build a reserve. The larder held only forty-eight hours’ worth of meat, and if the boar drought lasted any longer, the camp would be forced back to their despised mushroom rations.

  Naga studied Sid, content to wait. He knew Sid would identify his silence as a negotiation tactic. Unable to glean any information from Sid’s impassive demeanor, Naga stuck to the basics of leverage: Sid had requested the audience, so he would have to be the one to break the silence.

  Sid panned his gaze across the camp, from the medical bay to the smokehouse, a smile growing on his lips. “The camp has grown a lot. How many people do you have?”

  “Over a hundred.” Naga’s voice swelled with pride, like a father showing off his son’s marks. “But it’s a headache running a place this size. Managing all these conflicting interests takes time.” He emphasized the burden deliberately, a subtle signal to Sid that he had his own empire to run and wasn’t desperate for allies.

  Sid fixed his gaze on Naga, his eyes narrowing. “So, what actually happened with those Kurishingal kids?”

  Naga understood the unspoken question. The irony was undeniable. Sid was the one who staged the deaths to look like a drug-induced frenzy and then asked Naga to control the narrative. Yet old habits died hard. A lifetime of bending the rules had taught Naga to always maintain plausible deniability. Even in private, with his co-conspirator, he would never say the quiet part out loud.

  “The first victims of the mushroom crisis. It’s impossible to curb the usage when the fungi grow everywhere. The demand comes from despair; people are just looking for an escape, even if it kills them.” Naga let out a long, weary sigh, letting his shoulders slump in a display of practiced sorrow.

  “It’s a damn tragedy.” Sid nodded, mirroring Naga’s somber expression. “But pity won’t stop it from happening again. Are you doing anything to stop the enablers? Is there a dealer?”

  To an outsider, Sid’s question sounded like an interrogation—a critique of Naga’s leadership. Naga knew better. Sid had caught on to the game, mirroring Naga’s tactic of circling the truth without ever landing on it. It was exactly why Naga loved and hated the man in equal measure; interacting with Sid was like talking to a younger, less handsome version of himself.

  “Yeah, Bunty,” Naga said. “He was one of the suppliers. I’ve moved him to a construction crew where he won’t be a threat. The work leaves him no time for meals, let alone peddling drugs.”

  Bunty was nothing more than indentured labor, trading sweat for meager meals. Naga made sure the construction crew knew exactly what he was: an attempted rapist. From that point on, they drove him into the ground without a shred of pity.

  “Good, but we need permanent solutions, not half-measures.” There was a distinct, chilling weight to Sid’s words, a coded suggestion that Naga recognized instantly.

  Did Sid intend to eliminate both Bunty and George?

  Bunty was a dead man walking the moment Sid decided it, but George was a harder target. His core group remained loyal, unimpressed by empty promises; without Skill Crystals to offer, Naga could only peel away a third of them. The rest feared George too much to jump ship.

  Yet, it wasn’t George’s strength or his numbers that truly worried Naga. It was his connection to Tony.

  “It’s not that simple,” Naga said, rubbing the back of his neck in a show of reluctance. “There are limits to what I can do in my current capacity.”

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  The flood of newcomers washed away the Kurushingal family’s numerical edge, diluting their influence, and Naga wasted no time in marginalizing them. He was furious that they had taken the camp’s sole healer with them. And he intended to make them pay.

  Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine a monster like Tony emerging from that family. They were already asking for better task allocation and equipment. Tony even hinted at a chance to mend relations if Naga gave up on Sid.

  “I can handle the troublesome part,” Sid’s voice dropped low, a wolfish smile touching his lips. ”You provide the intel and help with the setup. I’ll take care of the rest."

  Sid was strong and capable, a natural survivor. Naga had never met his equal in adaptability until he met Ishan. Ishan didn’t just bring enough people to double the camp’s size; he brought the skill to take over the role of Scout Leader.

  Ishan was a carbon copy of Sid. He was self-confident in his abilities and not constrained by conventional thought processes. He’d fully embraced their new reality and thrived in it.

  He showed them the value of the monster remains, something that people discarded or buried. He taught them how to create weapons and armour, how to fight monsters as a team, and would’ve been a fine camp leader if not for his aversion to administration. Another trait he shared with Sid.

  Naga cut the same deal with both men. They supported his leadership, and in exchange, the camp paid them in manpower and resources.

  Ishan commanded a squad of elites, each wielding at least two uncommon skills. Ishan himself possessed the coveted Minor Heal, tempting Naga to suggest he stay behind as the camp’s dedicated medic. The withering stare he received in response ensured he never raised the subject again.

  Naga believed Ishan’s team to be stronger than Sid’s. They’d decimated a herd of fog deer led by an alpha, something much stronger than a dozen goblins.

  It was their strength that gave him the courage to face Tony. When the man stormed the camp, crushing everyone under the weight of his subjugation skill, Naga refused to kneel. He channeled every shred of willpower just to stay upright and look Tony in the eye.

  Yet that confidence shattered when Tony single-handedly beat a monster, which sent Ishan and his team packing. Literally. Ishan left with his team earlier today to get stronger. Naga tried to stop him, but Ishan believed he was stagnating by staying in the camp and training people, and wanted to fight stronger monsters.

  Out of options, Naga was already working on mending relations with Tony, agreeing to assign them guard and scouting duties when Sid showed up.

  “I can give you the intel, but helping with the setup is another matter.” Naga cast a wary look toward the lake where the Kurushingal family was stationed. “There are people in this camp with terrifying power.”

  Naga was indifferent to the victor of the clash between Sid and Tony. He was confident he could make himself indispensable to the winner, preserving the hard-won power he had carved out for himself.

  George was the one variable Naga couldn’t ignore, especially considering the man’s reputation for hunting down those who once held power over him. A victory for Tony meant George would be free to settle old scores, potentially condemning Naga to a cycle of physical abuse and the very labor he had used to punish George’s followers. He had played a dangerous game with those assignments, and the stakes were now painfully clear.

  It was, however, the perfect chance to weaponise Sid. Naga intended to have him eliminate George before Tony came for blood. He had no doubt that retribution was coming, not after seeing the raw hate in Tony’s eyes when he demanded to know Sid’s location.

  If Sid underestimated Tony, George might survive, and Naga would be the one to pay the price. To cover his tracks, Naga delivered a warning that served two purposes: alerting Sid to the lethal threat and clarifying that any help from Naga would remain strictly in the shadows.

  Sid sighed. “No one is listening. We are alone.” The finality in his tone suggested he had already checked. “Now, who are these people you can’t handle?”

  Naga studied Sid’s face, finding no deception in his confidence. “The Kurushingal family is stronger than you realize...”

  Naga wasn’t able to complete his words when Sid cut in. “You are talking about Tony and his aura skill?” Sid’s words lacked any tension, as if he didn’t consider Tony to be a threat.

  Sid’s intelligence was unnervingly accurate for a man who had just walked through the gates. Whether Sid had met an informant within the camp or crossed paths with Tony outside, the implication was the same. He possessed resources Naga knew nothing about, proving he had other cards to play.

  “Yes,” Naga said. “Tony is dangerous. And he hasn’t just strengthened himself; he’s armed his entire family with Uncommon skill crystals.”

  Tony turned his return into a spectacle, distributing uncommon skills to his family in a calculated show of force. He didn’t stop there; he commandeered his kin for training without a word. The guards were too cowed to intervene, leaving Naga to find out only after the fact. The incident proved that no matter how many rules Naga drafted, raw power remained the ultimate authority in their new reality.

  “What makes you think they were the only ones getting stronger?” Sid tilted his head, studying the trees for a moment before locking eyes with Naga. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. “Maybe a demonstration is in order.”

  Sid whistled.

  It was a skill Naga had always envied, having sat silent through countless movies and cricket matches while others cheered. But that jealousy vanished the instant he felt the cold bite of a blade against his throat.

  He hadn't sensed Varun’s approach at all. The man had materialized out of thin air, bypassing everyone to get behind him. How did he get past the guards? What kind of skill was this? Naga’s breath hitched, his mind racing as he fought to suppress the rising panic.

  “Handle the politics,” Sid said. “We’ll deal with these ‘powerful people’ if they step out of line.” He spoke with the casual, terrifying assurance of a man holding a royal flush.

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