"Power doesn't ask for permission. It demands obedience."
—Mafia System Log, Day 1
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The sky over Cape Town had never been quiet, not since the world cracked open. Red ash drifted like snow through the air, settling over the bones of skyscrapers and melting into the blackened streets. Fires still burned in the distance, flickering in rhythm with the dying heartbeat of the old world.
David Nakuruma stood in the ruins of what was once District 7, his black cloak fluttering like torn wings behind him. He didn't know why he came back here. Maybe to feel something. Maybe to stop feeling anything at all.
He stared at the cracked pavement where his brother died just two weeks ago—face down, shot twice in the head like he was a dog.
A boy's body.
A man's execution.
And now… the System had awakened.
Ping.
The sound was cold. Mechanical. Like a bullet sliding into the chamber.
A translucent screen flickered into his vision—gray and black with glowing red veins. It hovered in the air like a ghost, etched in sharp, shifting code.
> [The Mafia System has Awakened.]
Host Detected: David Nakurma (Age 16)
Current Alignment: Undefined. Morality Lock Pending.
Verifying Bloodline…
Blood Match Confirmed: Mwansa Syndicate — Royal Candidate
Initializing Succession Protocol…
"What… the hell?"
David reached for the screen but his fingers passed through it. It didn't feel like a hologram. It felt like it was inside his skull.
His heart started pounding.
> You have been selected to inherit the Throne of Thorns.
Title Assigned: 'Successor to the Crownless Throne.'
First Commandment Unlocked: Thou Shalt Not Kneel.
> Rejection will result in total cardiac failure in 30 seconds.
David's eyes widened. "Wait, what?!"
He backed away, eyes scanning for a camera, a drone—anything that explained this as a prank. But no one was there. Just broken buildings, shattered windows, and dead air.
25 seconds left.
He clutched his chest. It wasn't just fear—his body hurt. Like invisible wires were wrapping around his heart, twisting, pulling.
20 seconds.
His brother's voice echoed in his mind:
"Don't bow, D. Not to cops. Not to killers. And not to fate. We make our own law."
15 seconds.
David dropped to one knee.
The pain doubled. He screamed, clutching his ribs.
> Warning: Commandment Violation. Succession Integrity at Risk.
10 seconds.
Tears welled up in his eyes. Not from fear. From fury. From the weight of grief. From the fact that even now—even now—he still didn't feel like he was good enough to carry that crown.
5 seconds.
He stood.
Not tall. Not proud. Just… unwilling to kneel.
"I don't bow to anyone."
> Commandment Accepted.
Mafia System Installation Complete.
Skill Tree Unlocked: 'Dominion.'
You have gained: Mafia Instinct (Lv. 1)
You have gained: Sin Gauge Activation
System Message: Congratulations, Boss. Let's raise hell.
And then the gun appeared.
Not a real one—a symbol. A digital construct made of steel-gray light hovered behind him. A pistol wrapped in a silver crown, floating in the air, aimed directly at the reader—as if warning them too.
The street beneath David's feet lit up with digital code. A map burned itself into the concrete, showing red dots blinking across South Africa—Johannesburg, Durban, Pretoria, even deep into the Wastelands.
Each dot labeled:
System Hostile (S-Class)
Rival Successor (Unknown Loyalty)
Elite NPC: Syndicate Warlord – Phantheia Detected
His jaw clenched.
He wasn't the only one.
Then—footsteps.
Not boots. Barefoot. Scraping slowly across glass.
From the ruins of a burned-out church emerged a man wearing a skull mask and a blood-streaked preacher's robe. In his hand, a charred Bible. Around his neck, an upside-down cross.
"So... you're the boy the System chose."
David didn't move. "Who are you?"
The man laughed softly. It wasn't joyful.
"I was once like you. A chosen one. A successor. Until I failed the second commandment."
"Which is?"
He tilted his head.
"Thou Shalt Not Break Before Kings."
And then, without warning, the man snapped his fingers.
The ground ruptured.
Six shadowy figures rose from the dust—System Constructs, shaped like mafia enforcers in suits with no faces, holding digital crowbars, chains, machetes. Their bodies flickered, glitching like corrupted data.
> Mini-Boss Encounter: Ghost of Failed Successor — 'The Broken Prophet'
Threat Level: C+ (Warning: Unknown Modifier Detected)
Victory Reward: System Loyalty Upgrade + Unique Skill Fragment
Penalty for Death: Permanent System Ban. Soul Lock Initiated.
David's eyes narrowed. He took a deep breath.
And smiled.
"Good."
He raised his fist, and the crown-gun sigil behind him spun like a roulette wheel.
"Because I was hoping to punch something."
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To be continued…
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