The business Mira built with the group had started as nothing more than a modest stall in the city center. They kept their identities hidden, and their presence subtle. The city was ruthless, cold, and unwelcoming to outsiders, but Mira understood something most people didn’t, power came not only from brute strength but from influence, connections, and reputation. Every morning she dragged Barry, Jace, and Celia into planning sessions, sketching strategies on pieces of paper, figuring out how to earn trust, how to draw customers, how to expand without drawing the wrong kind of attention. And somehow, through nights of trial and days of exhaustion, it worked. Bit by bit, the shop grew. Barry became the friendly face everyone liked talking to. Jace handled the quiet work, the negotiation, the behind-the-scenes trading. Celia learned quickly, she adapted to the city’s harsh rhythm, helping Mira with organization, finances, and customer handling. And Michael… Michael worked as their

News of Michael’s victory spread through the city like wildfire. At first, it was only whispers, rumors traded in bars, shared in cold alleyways, murmured between street vendors. “Did you hear? The newcomer… he beat the Pit Boss.” “No way. That man hasn’t lost in ten years.” “I saw it myself! The kid didn’t even flinch. Like he was born for it.” By the next morning, the whispers became conversations. By noon, conversations became noise. By nightfall, noise became a roar that echoed through every corner of the snowy city. The legend of the quiet stranger who claimed the Pit had begun. Michael didn’t boast about his victory. He didn’t act like a king or parade through the streets. He simply continued with what he always did, work, train, strategize. But the people saw him differently now. They stepped aside when he walked. They watched him from afar. They whispered his name with a mixture of fear, awe, and curiosity. And with recognition came influence. The Pit was infamous. Wh

In the months that followed, the weight of the mission pushed every member of the group into roles they never imagined themselves taking. Michael was forging alliances with the city’s giants, Celia was mastering complex negotiations and managing public relations, Barry handled logistics with precision, and Jace, surprisingly, had grown deeply invested in the intricacies of business growth and influence. But no one evolved more unexpectedly than Mira and Jace. What started as simple task-sharing, late-night paperwork, reviewing financial entries, analyzing market openings, discussing negotiation strategies, gradually turned into a subtle bond. Mira was sharp, organized, and brilliant under pressure. Jace, who had always been the more carefree and humorous one, discovered a side of himself he never explored before. He wanted to impress her. He wanted to keep up with her. He wanted to learn. And Mira, who had always lived in luxury and was used to people serving her, found herself

Just then, Celia stepped into the office. “Oh, you’re back, Barr.,” She said with an easy smile, her voice light enough to soften the tension lingering in the room. Barry turned from the desk, surprised to see her. “Yeah.” He replied, returning the smile. “Just got in a few minutes ago.” They exchanged a few casual words, about the cold, about dinner, about how the city never really slept even under layers of snow. After a moment, Barry glanced between them, sensing that quiet, unspoken space forming. “I’ll leave you two to it.” He said, already backing toward the door. “We’ll talk more later.” The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving just Celia and Michael in the study. “Hey.” Celia said calmly. Michael looked up from the map and smiled instinctively, one of those rare smiles that came without calculation. But almost immediately, he turned his attention back to the table, pretending to study the markings again. He knew if he looked at her for too long, he would l

Later, everyone gathered in the living room. The tension from the previous night still clung to the air like a thin layer of frost, it was unspoken but undeniable. Barry sat on one couch, arms crossed, staring at nothing in particular. Jace leaned against the wall near the window, jaw tight, clearly doing everything in his power not to look in Barry’s direction. Mira stood apart, flipping through something on her phone, calm to the point of indifference. Celia hovered near the armchair, eyes moving between everyone, already exhausted…And the day hadn’t even begun. Michael stood at the center of the room. “Alright.” He said evenly, his voice cutting through the silence. “We’re not carrying last night into today.” That alone made a difference. Whatever else was happening between them, Michael’s presence grounded the group. He laid out the plan clearly. Plan A first. This plan consisted of diplomacy and negotiation, presenting themselves as respectable partners with leverage.