Villain Origin : Every Crime I Commit Helps Me Level Up-Chapter 39: The Round Table

Darkness shrouded the round table, leaving only silhouettes visible. Five figures sat equidistant from each other, their faces obscured by shadow despite the single light hanging overhead. The chamber itself seemed to absorb sound, ensuring their words remained private.

The massive double doors at the far end of the room swung open. A lean figure entered—Drake—his footsteps echoing against marble floors as he approached the table. He moved with calculated precision, stopping just behind the chair of his master.

"Victor has been eliminated," Drake announced, placing a manila folder on the table.

His master’s silhouette shifted slightly, the folder sliding across polished wood toward him. Long fingers opened it, revealing bloody photographs of Victor’s corpse alongside surveillance images of the warehouse standoff.

"Fascinating," said the man, his voice smooth and controlled. "He assured me the Atlas boy would be nothing more than an inconvenience—a pest to be exterminated before our gathering." A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Well done, Drake. Your initiative is commendable."

Drake bowed slightly before taking position behind his master’s chair, hands clasped behind his back.

"Damian," a bulky silhouette across the table rumbled, "what exactly happened? Why did Drake execute Victor?" The voice belonged to Rex Luther, his glasses catching the overhead light as he leaned forward.

Damian, Drake’s master, let the question hang in the air for a moment before responding. "Victor failed us, Rex. Simple as that." His finger tapped the photograph. "He boasted just yesterday about how quickly he would dispose of this ’Atlas kid’ who was disrupting his operations. Promised it wouldn’t even delay his arrival tonight." He pushed the folder toward the center of the table. "Instead, he was defeated by a novice. By the code we established, he forfeited his right to sit among us."

The photographs circulated around the table, each of the remaining four examining them carefully.

"Drake merely saved me the trouble of doing it myself," Damian concluded, leaning back in his chair.

Rex nodded slowly, seemingly satisfied. "I see the logic. Weakness can’t be tolerated at our level."

To Rex’s right sat the most physically imposing figure at the table—Krain. His massive shoulders strained against an expensive suit as he studied the images. "This Atlas kid..." he rumbled, voice like distant thunder. "He took down Victor?."

"With a handful of followers," Drake confirmed from his position. "They’re calling themselves ’Nightfall.’"

Soft laughter came from the twins seated opposite Damian—identical silhouettes perfectly mirrored in posture and movement. The one on the left spoke first, voice melodic with a slight rasp.

"How poetic," he remarked.

"How amateur," his brother finished, his tone equally melodic but slightly deeper.

"Castor and Mark," Damian acknowledged with a nod. "Your assessment?"

The twins moved in perfect synchronization, placing their photos down simultaneously.

"He has potential," Castor offered.

"But lacks refinement," Mark added.

"Precisely why we called this meeting," said the fifth figure, who had remained silent until now. His build suggested military training—broad-shouldered but lean, coiled like a spring. "Atlas isn’t our only concern."

"Indeed, Hyperion," Damian agreed. "The Vessel remains our primary target. This individual has been dismantling our smaller operations for months, always vanishing before we can identify them."

"But we can’t ignore Atlas either," Rex interjected, cleaning his glasses methodically. "Eliminating Victor means he just claimed new territory. If we don’t act, he’ll only grow stronger."

"Perhaps," Hyperion suggested, "we should consider bringing Atlas into the fold." His fingers drummed against the table. "New blood could be beneficial, especially someone with enough initiative to topple one of our own."

Krain’s massive fist landed on the table, not forcefully enough to damage it but with sufficient weight to command attention. "You suggest recruiting the very person who killed Victor? Have we abandoned all principles of respect?"

"Victor abandoned those principles when he failed," Damian countered smoothly. "But I understand your sentiment, Krain. Your friendship with him was well-known."

Krain settled back, face still hidden in shadow. "I merely question whether bringing in someone who has already proven hostile is wise."

"I agree with Hyperion," Rex said, replacing his glasses. "We should offer Atlas a position. If he accepts, we gain a promising new ally. If he refuses..." He left the implication hanging.

"Then he becomes an enemy of the five," Castor whispered.

"And we eliminate him together," Mark finished.

The table fell silent as they considered the options. Finally, Damian spoke again.

"Let’s put it to a vote." His voice was firm. "Recruitment first, elimination if refused. All in favor?"

One by one, hands raised—Rex, Hyperion, the twin brothers.

Krain alone kept his hand down, but nodded reluctantly. "Majority rules. I’ll abide by the decision."

"Then it’s settled," Damian declared. "We’ll extend an invitation to Atlas. As for the Vessel, our priority remains finding and neutralizing this threat. Our networks should be focused on gathering intelligence. The moment we have a location, we strike as one."

The meeting concluded as swiftly as it had begun. Each member rose, departing without further ceremony, their subordinates trailing behind them.

---

Krain’s luxury SUV cut through the night, its windows tinted dark enough to obscure the occupants. Inside, he sat across from his lieutenant, Jefferson, a thin man with wire-rimmed glasses and the demeanor of a university professor rather than a gang enforcer.

"How’s the experiment progressing?" Krain asked, his massive frame filling the back seat. "Is the subject awake yet?"

Jefferson adjusted his glasses, the glow from his tablet illuminating his face with clinical blue light. "Yes, sir. Subject E-7 regained consciousness yesterday and has shown remarkable stability compared to previous iterations." His finger swiped through several graphs on the screen. "Cognitive functions appear intact, and physical enhancements are performing at 87% of theoretical maximum."

"But?" Krain prompted, hearing the hesitation.

"But the subject isn’t fully perfected yet," Jefferson continued. "We need to assess performance under combat conditions before we can conclusively determine success. Laboratory simulations can only tell us so much."

A slow smile spread across Krain’s face as he gazed out the window at the passing cityscape. "What better practice dummy than Atlas?" he mused. "Victor may have fallen, but perhaps his defeat will serve a greater purpose."

Jefferson nodded, making a note on his tablet. "I’ll prepare E-7 for deployment. Preliminary engagement only—enough to gather data but not risk the subject."

"See that you do," Krain replied. "If Atlas proves worthy of joining us, I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with. And if not..." His massive hand curled into a fist. "I want to know how best to break him."

---

Morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the college campus as André made his way down the corridor. The hallway bustled with students, but he felt strangely isolated, as if moving through a different dimension than his peers. How could everything seem so normal when his world had transformed so completely in the span of a single night?

The fight at the warehouse played on loop in his mind—Victor’s body, the shadow ninja, Julian’s unexpected appearance and equally unexpected departure. Had his best friend been involved somehow? The thought gnawed at him, souring his mood further.

He sighed, exchanging books for his morning classes. Without Julian’s constant chatter and animated presence, school felt hollow. Boring.

"Miss him already?" a voice asked, bringing back André from his thoughts.

Gia leaned against the adjacent locker, her dark hair pulled into a loose bun that highlighted her sharp cheekbones. Her eyes—clever and observant—studied him with interest.

"What?" André asked, closing his locker.

"Julian," she clarified. "You look like someone stole your puppy."

André shrugged, forcing a casual tone. "It can’t be helped. He’s gone on some business trip for his dad."

"So I heard." Gia fell into step beside him as they headed toward first period. "Must be nice having a billionaire father who can just whisk you off to Europe whenever."

André made a noncommittal sound, not wanting to discuss Julian further.

"Some of us are heading to Lake Serenity for a three-day trip this weekend," Gia continued, changing the subject. "Maya’s family has a cabin there, and we’re thinking of doing some hiking, swimming, maybe a bonfire night." She nudged his arm lightly. "You should come. It gives us a chance to hang out again—we don’t do that anymore since you’re always busy. And hey, it might help take your mind off things."

André’s first instinct was to decline. Nightfall needed attention—there were territories to secure.

Then again, maybe a short break from the gang would help clear his head. A few days of normalcy before diving deeper into the underworld he’d created.

"Who else is going?" he asked.

"Maya, Derek, Tasha, maybe Liam," Gia counted off on her fingers. "Just some usual friends. Nothing fancy."

André hesitated another moment before nodding. "Yeah, alright. I could use the getaway."

Gia’s face lit up with a smile. "Great! We’re meeting Friday after class to carpool."

As she hurried off to class, André found himself wondering if he’d made the right decision. He pulled out his phone, quickly texting Ken to handle things for the evening. ’A few hours of normal teenage life,’ he thought. ’That’s all I need.’

The rest of the day passed in a blur of lectures and assignments that seemed trivial compared to the weight of his other responsibilities. By the time his last class ended, André had almost talked himself out of the lake trip three times.