The muttering falters. A few residents lower their wrists, holo-signs dimming out. Others trade uneasy glances.
That doesn’t mean he backs off.
“While you’re questioning our presence here—our loyalty—” Kane sweeps a hand over the street, over those he’s been protecting since he was barely old enough to drive. “Remember who stood between you and that Smiles Services raid six months ago. Who keeps Ulvepack and Natural Order from turning these blocks into war zones. Who makes sure your roads stay walkable and your markets stay stocked with real food.”
The crowd goes silent. No cheers, no shouting. Only when Kane turns away do they move. His crew closes in behind him.
Enforcers peel off to their posts. Wren’ssquad mounts their HOVs. Drones rise into the air again, slipping into their usual patrol patterns.
The three lieutenants and Coda’s drone stay flanked at his sides until Kane reaches the end of the block, well away from the market’s entrance yet within sight to watch the group scatter.
Except not everyone leaves.
A small cluster lingers, exchanging glances and words Kane can’t quite catch. They slip into the alleyway and disappear before his readings flag them as anyone but strangers.
Echo breaks the quiet. “Most of them seemed convinced.”
“Others weren’t,” Viper counters.
Kane doesn’t answer. After a breath, he faces his lieutenants with a frown.
“Why wasn’t I told about this?” he hisses. “The rumors, the converts, the propaganda—how long has this been going on?” How long has Athena been turning them against him? “I want answers. Now.”
“My squad didn’t know until today.” Wren’s words come rushing out. “The civilians were quiet, showed no signs until now.”
Kane clenches his teeth. He gave Wren a chance to prove herself, to take on more responsibility. And this is how she handled it?
“I don’t want excuses.” His gaze narrows, ignoring the jump in her vitals on his overlay. “From now on, I assign patrol routes, schedule all runs, and any civilian conflicts come through me first. And I want daily reports by 7 a.m. Understood?”
Her eyes drop before snapping up, expression hardening. “Yes, sir!”
“Hold up,” Echo interrupts, blinking at him. “What about our whole talk—about not running things like this anymore—”
His bitter laugh cuts her off. “Itriedbeing flexible, letting you all take the reins.” Kane tried being something other than the Chrome Baron. “And what did we get? Natural Order and Athena whispering lies until half the district started doubting us. All because you couldn’t see what was happening right under your damn noses.”
“This isn’t onus. No one could’ve predicted a social warfare,” Viper fires off.
“Youcouldn’t.” Kane folds his arms. “That’s whyI’min charge.” He knows about Athena’s sharp tongue, her ability to rally anyone who listens to pick up arms. “From now on, everything goes through me—patrols, defensive maneuvers, potential deals, security measures. Everything.”
Silence stretches between them, stances shifting, but their readings in his HUD say everything: Viper’s pulse climbing, Echo’s cortisol surge flashing yellow, Wren going flatline-calm, even Coda’s projection rigid at the edges.
A flicker of guilt surfaces. He shuts it down fast.
This is the kind of leader Shreveport needs. The kind his uncle was. The kind who didn’t waver—until he did.
No one moves. No one speaks. Kane’s patience thins. “Understood?”
Echo shrugs. “Sure thing, boss man.”
Viper and Coda offer curt nods. Wren gives a strained, “Yes, Baron.”
“Return to your posts.”
The trio break apart, scattering to their assigned routes. Kane watches them go, tension in his gut. He ignores it,dropping his gaze to his wristlink to scan the flood of notifications.
Movement from the marketplace pulls his attention back. Booths are reopening, with customers lining up in a frenzy. Kids weave between the carts on HOV boards older than their parents.
Shreveport is returning to normal. The weight in his chest loosens slightly.