Hunter stood above the group on the scaffold. He continued to gaze down at the group of punks below and sneered. Who did they think they were? They all thought they were good enough to be his men? His lip curled in a vicious sneer as he watched them start to flee. F*cking cowards!
There was a pause before he surveyed the remaining men. His eyes stopping on a small figure to his left. The guy was only about 5'7 with black spiky hair and piercings. He was disgustingly unremarkable. The kids build was small and slender. He was short and didn't look like he had a lick of muscle to his body. He had almost completely written him off, that is until he seen this kids eyes. In comparison to the rest of him, they stood out the most. There was a look of cold calculation in their depths that was almost bone chilling. These were the kind of eyes that would look right through a person regardless of status. Before these eyes it didn't matter if you were God or man. You were all a speck of dust in their regard. Hunter couldn't help but smile coldly. This kid was interesting.
After sometime Hunter began again.
"Rule number 2: No weapons are to be used in this fight. Any punk can use a knife are a shiv. If you have to relay on a weapon to save your a** in my crew you are trash. Your body is your biggest asset, and your deadliest weapon. Any who gets caught with a weapon is dead. Anyone who can't abide by this rule leave now !!"
Hunter went through the list of rules one a time. They may be just a group of thugs but they had a code. A very strict one. His crew had to be extremely loyal. The kind of men who would live or die by their loyalty no matter the adversity. Its why these fights were structured like this. They were made to weed out the weak and cowardly. Put the fear of god into a coward and he would sing like a bird for the bigger scarier men.
The reason Hunter was so feared is because everyone on the street new he had integrity. But even that integrity wouldn't save any man of his caught ratting to turning on them. The punishment of betraying the hoard slow and cruel. You would't die if you betrayed their leader. But Hunter would make damned sure you wished you had.
Luke sat in state of mesmerized awe. This was the power of the top dog. He could almost feel the men around him cowering. Even Charlie was sweating buckets. Not Luke though. Luke wanted a taste of that fearsome power. He was going to beat everyone of these punks down, and then he wanted to take on their master. It was the ultimate goal. Like beating the big boss in a high stakes video game. Luke couldn't wait to get started.
He took a step back from the crowd as one by one the members were elected to fight. Squaring off against one another. The first set of men an average sized man of maybe 20 or so, thick muscles. dirty blonde hair, tattoos. Nothing really remarkable. Luke stretched his arms out behind his head, watching the fight under a heavy lidded gaze. BORING. First team down. The winner a man of slender build, pink hair and the craziest pair of contact lenses he had ever seen. Who the hell wears purple contacts anyway? Seriously?!
The pink haired man was called to stand aside as the next group of challengers entered the circle. Luke lost interest immediately. There were no challengers here. He looked at Charlie to see what his reaction to this was. Charlies eyes were intent on the men. No doubt he was measuring their skill as well. Luke shrugged. These really were small fries. One by one they would all fall. And they would only be the beginning.
From the sidelines not too far away, a pair of cold blue eyes were watching him from the shadows, almost as they were trying to absorb his every movement and action. While Luke was measuring these guys, someone was measuring him.