The Skulls' takeover of Viper's territory was swift and brutal.
Within days, the Broken Mug was repainted with their crude skull-and-crossbones insignia, and their heavily armed thugs patrolled the surrounding alleys with an air of arrogant ownership.
Reports of beatings, extortions, and summary executions of those who resisted their new reign filtered through the Rust Market's rumor mill.
They were making a statement: they were the new power, and defiance would not be tolerated.
Lâm Minh began his surveillance of the Skulls cautiously.
He avoided direct confrontation, instead using his enhanced senses and agility to observe from the shadows.
He noted their patrol patterns, their leadership structure (a hulking, brutal figure known only as "Breaker" seemed to be in charge), and, most importantly, how they were handling the Crimson Dream trade.
To his surprise, the Skulls weren't just continuing Viper's business; they were expanding it.
They seemed to have a more abundant supply of the drug, and they were pushing it aggressively, often forcing it on unwilling addicts or using it to control their own lower-ranking members, turning them into hyper-aggressive shock troops.
The price had dropped slightly, making it accessible to a wider, more desperate clientele.
The number of "Dreamers" in the Rust Market and surrounding slums visibly increased, and with them, the incidents of violence and psychotic breakdowns.
Lâm Minh relayed his observations to Yan, who in turn passed them to Commander Trinh.
The news was grim.
The increased supply of Crimson Dream suggested a more sophisticated and well-resourced origin, further pointing towards a possible Madakaros connection.
"Trinh is convinced the drug is a destabilization tool," Yan conveyed to Lâm Minh during one of their clandestine meetings.
"Create chaos, weaken social cohesion, turn humans against each other. Classic psychological warfare tactics, amplified with alien biochemistry. The question remains: are the Skulls knowing collaborators, or just opportunistic pawns?"
"From what I've seen, Breaker and his top lieutenants are certainly enjoying the power and profit," Lâm Minh reported.
"But they don't strike me as intelligent enough to be masterminds. They're thugs, amplified. Someone else is likely pulling their strings, supplying them."
"Find that someone, Minh," Yan instructed.
"That is your priority. The supplier is the key."
Lâm Minh knew this would be difficult.
The Skulls were paranoid and violent.
Getting close to their supply chain without revealing himself would require extreme finesse, or a very compelling disguise.
He continued his nightly cultivation, pushing himself relentlessly.
The Spirit Stones from Old Feng and now Commander Trinh were invaluable.
He was making steady progress through the Middle Phase of Qi Refining, but the jump to Major Completion, and then to the Late Phase, felt like climbing a sheer cliff.
The unsettling news of the potential Maka Legion presence spurred him on.
He needed more power, and he needed it quickly.
[Cultivation Progress: Qi Refining Stage – Middle Phase (90% progress towards Major Completion).]
[Spiritual Root: Heaven Tier (Sealed – Stage 1/9 Unsealed). Progress to unseal Stage 2: 35%.]
His interactions with Tố Quyên at school remained a small, bright spot in his otherwise grim existence.
They had fallen into an easy rhythm of brief but friendly conversations. He learned about her research projects, her frustrations with the limitations of available data on Madakaros physiology, and her dreams of contributing meaningfully to humanity's defense.
She, in turn, seemed increasingly curious about his quiet life, his knowledge of the city's undercurrents (which he carefully downplayed), and the source of his unnerving calm.
One afternoon, as they were walking part of the way home together again (a routine that had become surprisingly regular, much to the chagrin of some of Tố Quyên's more possessive friends), she looked at him with a troubled expression.
"Minh," she began hesitantly, "have you… have you heard about what's happening in some of the outer residential blocks? Near the Rust Market fringe?"
Lâm Minh kept his expression neutral. "Things are always happening in the outer blocks, Quyên. What specifically?"
"It's… this new drug," she said, her voice low and worried.
"They call it Crimson Dream. People are saying it makes users incredibly violent, almost inhuman. There have been… attacks. People getting hurt, even killed, by these 'Dreamers'." Her pretty face was creased with concern.
"One of my mother's charity clinic contacts said they're seeing more and more cases of extreme psychosis and unexplainable injuries."
Lâm Minh felt a pang of guilt.
He knew far more about Crimson Dream than he could ever tell her.
Her innocent concern was a stark contrast to the brutal reality he was navigating.
"I've heard whispers," he admitted.
"It sounds dangerous. Best to stay away from those areas."
"But people can't just stay away, Minh!" she exclaimed, her usual composure cracking.
"These are their homes! And… and one of the victims… it was the younger brother of a girl in my xenolinguistics study group, Mai Linh. He was just a boy, only fourteen. He was attacked by a Dreamer, beaten almost to death. He's in critical condition." Tố Quyên's eyes welled up with tears.
"It's horrible. The Enforcers don't seem to be doing enough. It's like that part of the city is just… being abandoned."
Lâm Minh's heart clenched.
A fourteen-year-old boy.
Another innocent victim of this insidious drug.
He wanted to reassure Tố Quyên, to tell her that people were working to stop it, that he was working to stop it.
But he couldn't.
"The city's resources are stretched thin, Quyên," he said gently.
"The Enforcers can't be everywhere."
"But isn't there anyone who can help them?" she pleaded, her eyes searching his.
There was a desperate hope in her gaze, as if she believed he, with his quiet strength and mysterious knowledge, might have an answer.
"You… you know things about the city, Minh. You know people. Is there anything… anything at all that can be done?"
Lâm Minh looked into her tear-filled eyes.
Her faith in him, however misplaced or uninformed, was a heavy burden. He couldn't reveal his mission, his connection to Commander Trinh.
But he also couldn't stand by and do nothing while people she cared about suffered.
This was a critical juncture.
He could maintain his cover, offer empty platitudes, and continue his clandestine investigation.
Or he could take a risk.
A calculated one.
"The Skulls gang… they're the ones pushing this drug hardest now, aren't they?" Lâm Minh asked, his voice carefully neutral.
Tố Quyên nodded, surprised by his directness. "Yes, that's what Mai Linh said. They've taken over that whole area. They're ruthless."
Lâm Minh made a decision.
It was risky, and could potentially compromise his larger mission, but Tố Quyên's desperate plea had struck a chord.
And perhaps, this could even serve his investigation.
"Quyên," he said, his voice low and serious.
"I can't make any promises. And you must not tell anyone what I'm about to suggest, or that we even had this conversation. It could be very dangerous for everyone involved."
She nodded quickly, her eyes wide with anticipation and a touch of fear. "I understand. I won't say a word."
"There are… certain groups, certain individuals in the city, who operate outside the official channels," Lâm Minh explained carefully.
"They sometimes… intervene when the Enforcers can't, or won't. For a price, or for their own reasons. If Mai Linh, or her family, could gather specific information about the Skulls' operations in their block – who the key dealers are, where they store their supply, when they make their deliveries – it might be possible to… disrupt their activities."
He was essentially asking her to facilitate civilian intelligence gathering, a dangerous proposition for untrained people.
But he also knew that desperation could make people resourceful.
"You mean… vigilantes?" Tố Quyên whispered, her eyes searching his.
"Something like that," Lâm Minh admitted.
"But they need actionable intelligence. Vague complaints won't help. Specifics. Names, locations, routines." He paused.
"And there's no guarantee of success. It's incredibly dangerous for anyone involved in gathering that information. And even more dangerous for those who might act on it."
Tố Quyên was silent for a long moment, processing his words.
The initial hope in her eyes was now mixed with a dawning understanding of the risks.
"I… I can talk to Mai Linh," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
"She's strong. And her family is desperate. They might be willing to… to try."
"Emphasize the danger, Quyên," Lâm Minh warned.
"They should only do what they can safely. No heroes. Just information, if possible."
He then gave her a way to leave an anonymous message at a specific dead drop location in a relatively neutral part of the city – a method he'd already established for low-level informants.
"If they gather anything useful, tell Mai Linh to have it left there. No direct contact. And tell her to be incredibly careful."
Tố Quyên nodded, a new resolve hardening her expression.
The tears were gone, replaced by a grim determination.
"I will, Minh. Thank you. Thank you for even suggesting there might be a way."
Lâm Minh felt a complex mix of emotions.
He had given her a sliver of hope, but he had also potentially put her and her friend in grave danger.
He hoped his gamble would pay off, not just for them, but for his own investigation.
If Mai Linh's family could provide ground-level intel on the Skulls' distribution network, it could be invaluable, saving him weeks of risky infiltration.
As they parted ways, Tố Quyên looked at him with an intensity he hadn't seen before.
"You're not like anyone I've ever met, Lâm Minh," she said softly.
He simply nodded, unable to articulate the truth of his existence.
The weight of her trust, and the potential consequences of his actions, settled upon him.
He had just escalated his involvement, moving from a passive observer and informant to someone actively, if indirectly, instigating action against a dangerous gang.
The path ahead had just become even more convoluted, and the stakes even higher.