Gunblade - The Rebellion of Cain

Chapter 1 -The Seeds of Rebellion

Cain returned to the depths of the dark sedan that brought him to the pawn shop, ruefully regarding the shadowy figure sitting in the seat opposite him. The car lurched into motion and the roar of the powerful engine filled the cabin as the driver sped from the shop. As if on cue, the man spoke to Cain with a tone dripping with unconcealed disdain. His thick English accent and piercing voice cut through to Cain's core. As he began, Cain reflected on the fact that Monitors never spoke to people in his position, but rather at them, as if they were giving orders to a slave or machines.

"A rogue Triumvirate faction has established an informal command structure in a high-society Chinese restaurant and social club north of the city, just outside of Chinatown. This group purports to usurp regional control of the Triumvirate and establish their own business and crime organization as a competing offshoot."

The man's apparent contempt for Cain was evident in his body language. Cain read levels deep beneath the man's persona, turning to regard him. He always surmised that the Monitor regarded him as a dangerous, barbarous tool, a blunt instrument only used when brute and unsophisticated force was required to settle matters of the Triumvirate.

While the Monitors were often viewed as zealous loyalists whose sole purpose is to gather intelligence and report on organizational threats, Cain had little respect for their dual nature. They were well known as schemers and backstabbers. To his kind, they were little more than information brokers without honor.

Cain knew that the Monitor that addressed him now was too intelligent not to retain a healthy fear of terrible living weapons like him. To compensate for this, the Monitor made his intellectual superiority and attitude evident in all his dealings with Triumvirate Swords to maintain dominance over them. Cain turned his gaze to the sallow faced, pale individual in the darkest corner of the sedan, now daring to make direct eye contact with him.

Surprisingly, despite the intensity and malevolence in Cain's gaze, the Monitor continued without interruption. It didn't take him long to realize it was because the Monitor never deigned to look at him directly. To him, Cain was an undesirable instrument, a barely controllable asset of the Triumvirate organization. Despite his own rising ire at the Monitor, he came to terms with this arrangement. If the Monitor needed to assert his superiority because he felt threatened, then Cain would give him proper reason to continue to feel fear. With that in mind, he continued to stare the Monitor in the eye as he spouted background information about the stronghold they were heading towards.

Although the only illumination in the car was the eerily soft glow of the Monitor's slate computer, the Monitor noticed Cain slowly moving hand towards the hilt of his blade. He satisfyingly felt the man's discomfort rise at the subtle motion. Extracting a modicum of satisfaction, he began to give place to a cloying thought in the back of his mind. Despite the briefing he was receiving, the application of three Triumvirate Swords to such a trifling scenario seemed out of place. It was a geometric misapplication of force given the context of the situation. To exert the overwhelming force of three Swords where one would be more than sufficient gave him pause. With these thoughts swimming in his mind, he continued to glare at the bookish-looking shadowy figure as the powerful sedans roared them to their destination, searching for any more information that the Monitor may have chosen not to disclose.

The convoy of black sedans closed in on their destination like predatory jungle cats stalking unwitting prey. They smoothly pulled into the parking lot of a towering, standalone Chinese restaurant hued in iridescent blue lighting in the heart of the city. The restaurant itself was a delicate work of art, featuring large blood-red Chinese proverbs which adorned the outside of the establishment. Much of the first floor of the restaurant was plate glass, allowing patrons a sweeping view of the East River as it slid by. The Monitor began speaking again.