073. A Business Offer

The room was still, tension hanging thick in the air as the monitor flickered off. Everyone, except Jalu, Dmitry, and Sergei, was frozen in a silent, collective terror. The images they had just witnessed—Litsi’s monstrous transformation, her merciless feast—had shattered their perception of her. The once-adored woman now seemed more nightmare than beauty, and fear gripped their hearts, twisting admiration into something dark and unsettling.
Before any of them could even speak, the door swung open. Litsi entered, gliding into the room with her usual grace. There was no trace of the beast that had torn her victims apart, no hint of the horror she had unleashed. She looked serene, stunning even, as if nothing had happened. But the bratvas’ eyes widened, their faces drained of color as they stared at her, the terror still fresh in their minds. She was no longer just the enchanting woman they admired—she was a predator, something far more dangerous.
Jalu caught their reactions instantly, a knowing smile creeping across his face. "You look like someone who's seen a ghost," he teased, his eyes settling on Pyotr, who stood rigid with fear. "She’s still the same lovely lady who had you playing the perfect gentleman earlier." His hearty laugh echoed through the room, but it did nothing to ease the tension.
Pyotr swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. "W—what is she?" The words trembled out, his gaze fixed on Litsi, as though even looking at her would summon the monster again.
Jalu's grin widened, clearly enjoying their discomfort. "Why don’t you ask her yourself?" He stepped forward, gripping Litsi’s arm with a casual confidence, pulling her close until she stood beside him. Her expression remained calm, almost indifferent, but there was a faint glimmer in her eyes, as if she knew exactly what they feared.
Pyotr stared at her, but no words escaped his lips. His mouth moved, but nothing coherent formed. Litsi, sensing his fear, offered a disarming smile, her voice smooth and seductive. "I am an ymvith," she began, her tone gentle yet unnerving. "A race of beings from another dimension. As fate would have it, humans provide all the nutrition we need... with a certain hygiene that supports our sustenance."
Though her words were spoken casually, the chill they carried was unmistakable. Pyotr's face paled further, and the rest of the bratvas tensed, as if the air itself had turned hostile.
Oleg, clearly disturbed but trying to maintain composure, cleared his throat. "Are you... one of her kind, Mr. Mahawira?"
Jalu's response was sharp, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. "Worse." His voice dropped, the casualness of his words only adding to the menace. "I am worse than her. And while I might seem as human as the rest of you, I'm far worse than all of you combined. Ymviths kill to survive... you kill to protect your business." His smile widened, a cold, predatory edge seeping into his expression. "I kill for pleasure."
The room tightened with tension, the weight of Jalu's admission leaving an unsettling silence. Fear prickled at the edges of the men's minds, thickening the air until it was nearly suffocating.
Breaking the silence, Litsi’s voice came again, soft but commanding. "I’ve done what you required of me." Her eyes flicked to Jalu, her tone hinting at a demand for more than just acknowledgment.
"Yes," Jalu responded shortly, giving her a brief nod. "Thank you."
Litsi wasn’t finished. "You owe me an explanation," she pressed, her voice calm but firm. "And you promised not to kill me."
Jalu chuckled lightly, a sound that seemed out of place given the tension in the room. "I never harm a woman who isn't armed," he replied smoothly. "I broke that principle once—when I nearly destroyed Nadezhda. But at the time, I believed she was just a soulless machine."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "So rest assured, Litsi, I never intended to harm you."
Litsi’s eyes narrowed. "But you threatened to cut off my head if I refused to come with you!" The irritation in her voice was clear.
Jalu threw his head back in laughter, the sound echoing in the tense room, his hand repeatedly patting her shoulder as if the conversation were no more than a playful exchange. "It’s called a bluff," he said with a mischievous grin. The bratvas exchanged bewildered glances, disbelief etched across their faces, but none dared to interrupt. Jalu's laughter continued, completely ignoring the vexation in Litsi’s eyes as he casually dismissed the danger she’d faced.
“Why did you want her to reveal herself to ordinary citizens, Mr. Mahawira?” Dmitry asked, his voice steady but his unease clear.
Jalu chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “First off, don’t start mimicking Pyotr and the pakhan by calling me ‘Mister.’ And second, grow your hair out, Dmitry. You look too much like a soldier.” He laughed briefly, but the mirth faded quickly, replaced by a cold seriousness. “Times have changed, my friends. I want to strengthen the bond between our families—those who operate in the shadows and those who work in the darkness.”
Oleg leaned forward, his voice low but carrying the weight of everyone's unspoken question. “Will there be a war, Jalu?”
“The war has been waged since ancient times, pakhan,” Jalu said, his tone flat and matter-of-fact. “These two,” he gestured toward Dmitry and Sergei, “are part of an organization that handles interdimensional threats within Russia. They assist those willing to cooperate, and… eliminate those who are not. Every country has its own version of them. But we—we don’t serve any nation, any government, or any political agenda. We serve humanity.”
Pyotr’s brow furrowed, doubt creeping into his voice. “But you... your reputation—” he hesitated.
Jalu’s eyes darkened, but his response was calm, almost indifferent. “I told you. I’m worse than all of you.” His words hung in the air, chilling in their simplicity. “But the explosion in Karabash… it made me realize the mistake I made. I turned my back on my responsibilities for too long.”
Oleg’s curiosity sparked. “What really happened there?”
Sergei, who had remained silent, spoke up, his voice thick with reverence. “Jalu’s father sacrificed himself to stop an all-out invasion. A massive army of powerful beings was set to strike. A dozen of our own gravely wounded trying to stop just nine of them. I barely survived my fight with one. But Jalu’s father… he gave everything to ensure we’d still wake up to see another sunrise.”
The room fell into a heavy silence. Oleg, Pyotr, and the bratvas shifted their gazes to Jalu, awe and respect now mixed with their fear. The weight of that sacrifice settled over them, making them see Jalu in a different light.
"My condolences, Jalu," Oleg said, his voice carrying a rare note of solemnity. "If there’s anything we can do to help, just say the word."
Jalu leaned back slightly. His expression remained unreadable, but his tone was direct. "I want you to help us with international transport for my family—quietly, across the globe. We’ll compensate you, of course." He paused, letting the weight of his next words sink in. "We will also make sure to eliminate interdimensional threats from your family. But there’s one condition—we require absolute secrecy. And from time to time, you’ll need to cooperate with other families in other countries. I expect nothing less than professionalism. It’s business, after all."
Oleg’s eyes flickered with both understanding and resolve. "Eristovskaya will proudly join your cause." He nodded with conviction, a signal of solidarity that rippled through the room. Pyotr and the other bratvas followed suit, each one bowing their heads in respect, a quiet but powerful acknowledgment of the alliance being forged.