CHAPTER 48: ZORTHAR FAMILY

A high-level meeting was convened at the Zorthar Mansion, it was a massive estate that served not only as the residence of the Zorthar crime family but also as the nucleus of their operations and the strategic command center of their entire criminal empire.

This meeting took place only after every executive had assembled. These individuals weren’t mere soldiers but they were truly area general managers as they each oversaw numerous business ventures in specific zones of the city. Their singular goal was to generate profit at all costs.

Within the Zorthar Family, wealth wasn’t just power but it was survival. Failure to produce increasing returns was a death sentence no matter what position the person held.

If an executive failed to deliver results, they would be eliminated and replaced permanently. As their values depend on how much profit they bring to the family as if they cannot then they do not have any value in the family which means that their very existence in the family to be rather like a nuisance.

Everyone seated in that mansion knew the weight of their positions. Serving Zorthar meant walking a constant tightrope over an abyss of expectations. But to oppose Zorthar? That was a fate worse than death.

Enemies of the Zorthar Family were handled with a precision that bordered on psychotic cruelty.

First, they would attack the person’s source of income either by buying it outright or driving it to ruin. Then, through bribes and threats, they will spread targeted rumors, turning society against the individual.

Friends became strangers. Neighbors ignored their presence. Slowly, they were erased from public consciousness.

Then came the psychological torment. The enemy of the family and maybe often their loved ones would face harassment or complete social isolation. Merchants would refuse to sell them food or any of their products while strangers would walk past them like ghosts, and their cries would go unheard.

Just when starvation seemed imminent, the Zorthar would send aid but not as charity, but as another link in the chain.

Expensive treatments, rare medications, and luxury-level healing would be provided but only for the torment to begin again as it was a deliberate cycle of destruction and revival.

A never ending loop of breaking and rebuilding, designed to shred the soul until only a husk remained.

In the end, these victims weren’t executed. No, death was too merciful. Instead, they were tossed into the fringes of the slums, forgotten, and broken beyond repair.

Many of the beggars wandering the city outskirts which were the slum areas were Zorthar’s discarded enemies whose minds shattered, identities lost, and existing without even the memory of who they once were.

This is what made the Zorthar Family truly terrifying. They weren’t merely violent, instead they were calculated and remorseless. Even loyalty didn’t guarantee kindness. Their cruelty extended inward as much as outward.

On this day, the family’s top executives gathered in the office of Mikhail Zorthar, the current head and the most feared while also being the most successful leader in the family’s bloody history.

What made Mikhail so formidable wasn’t strength or magical prowess. It was his intellect, his strategic brilliance, and his relentless cold logic.

Under his leadership, the family had survived the brutal purge launched by the Duke to cleanse the city of organized crime.

While others crumbled, Mikhail thrived. The crackdown had failed because Mikhail had outmaneuvered the Duke at every turn. He had already infiltrated the city’s ruling council, converting its members into informants. They fed him advance warnings about every move the Angeras Knights made.

Each time the Knights mobilized, Mikhail simply diverted their attention with decoys who all were low level thugs used as cannon fodder while the real operations vanished into the shadows.

Losses were expected, but strategic. Despite casualties, the core strength of the Zorthar Family, which was its leadership, its wealth, and its power remained intact allowing the family to simply return back to its former operations which were paused due to the crackdown by the Duke to resume.

When the Duke was eventually forced to call off his campaign, the Zorthar Family returned to their mansion and resumed business as usual. If anything, the crackdown had served to clear out competing factions.

With the vacuum left behind many gangs and organisations who were all purged, Zorthar moved in swiftly, absorbing territories and acquiring control over even more of the city.

Much of their expansion came through their money lending operations which was a legal front for predatory enslavement.

Debtors were intentionally driven to default, after which they were coerced into servitude. Some were made to work without pay, their wages counted as repayment for loans. Others were sold into slavery, or worse their organs harvested and sold off.

Unlike the Lutis faction, who still maintained a certain public favor due to their ties to the pleasure industry, the Zorthar Family was universally hated.

Their tactics were violent, predatory, and inhuman. They punished dissenters mercilessly. Even their own customers were trapped, manipulated, and ruined.

Inside Mikhail’s stark, dimly lit office, the executives took their places. The room’s layout was simple with two long couches facing each other in front of his desk, and additional chairs lining the walls. Each seat was occupied by the executives.

Despite the tension, no one spoke since they weren’t allowed unless Mikhail himself gives them the permission to utter a word.

Mikhail sat behind his grand desk, scribbling into a thick ledger. No one dared interrupt as this was part of the business which was considered to be sacred. An unspoken rule existed between every member of this crime family as it was to don’t disturb the boss while he writes.

The door creaked open. The last executive, Prestor, slipped in quietly and took his seat. Still, Mikhail didn’t look up. His pen continued gliding over the pages, the soft scratching sound the only thing breaking the silence.

And then finally it stopped causing the entire room to stiffened. No one moved, no one looked up. All eyes remained lowered. Even breathing seemed risky as they all waited for a word to come out from his mouth.

Then came Mikhail’s voice, it was measured, cold, and without inflection. "I see you’ve all assembled." He spun the pen between his fingers, eyes scanning the room and just like that, the real meeting began.

[To be Continued]