Gavin's Rock (Chapter 8): Sebastian, Leader of The Goldminers

 

That afternoon, Silla was finishing up the last touches of cleaning in her modest home, her mind already on the mission ahead. The house was quiet, almost too quiet, after the chaos that had been their lives for the past weeks. As she wiped down the kitchen counter, her thoughts drifted to the video call she had scheduled with the others. The plan to take down Sebastian was all-consuming, and Silla knew that every detail mattered.

She moved to her living room, opened her laptop, and connected with Bianca, Dinah, and Madelyn. The screen flickered to life, revealing her friends in their respective locations: Dinah in the school lab, Bianca in the basement of the General Kitchen, and Madelyn in her own house. Their faces were serious, but there was an undercurrent of determination that Silla found both comforting and motivating.

“So, how about our mission of bringing down Sebastian?” Bianca’s voice was the first to cut through the digital air, her expression fierce. “I can’t wait for that moron to scream in pain!” she added with a twisted grin.

Silla nodded, her face reflecting both concern and resolve. “I’ll make contact with Tini, Sebastian’s wife. She’s like you, Madelyn. She’s had enough of Sebastian and wants to get off this island with her son. She doesn’t want him to grow up like his father—a chauvinist pig!” Silla’s tone was heavy with concern as she thought about the innocent boy caught in this brutal world. “I’ll go to her place tonight and talk about how to bring him down. I need backup.”

“Sure, we’ll be there,” Madelyn responded, her voice slightly strained but steady. “Chase always has overtime trying to catch us, so I think I can slip out tonight.”

“The propaganda was also somewhat successful,” Dinah chimed in with a smile. “More women know about men’s weaknesses now. Some are really curious and trying things out. I’m sure Gabriel is panicking, though he’s trying to play it cool!” Her laughter bubbled up, the sound a brief respite from the tension that usually hung between them. “The campaign of ‘Kick His Nuts Making Him Nuts’ is so crazy good.”

Before Silla could respond, the doorbell rang, the sound slicing through their conversation. She frowned, glancing toward the door. “Who could that be?” she wondered aloud, her curiosity piqued. “Alif should be at work. I’ll check. Bye!” With a quick wave to the others, Silla ended the call and hurried downstairs.

Opening the door, she was met with the sight of a tall, handsome man with bright blonde hair, wearing the unmistakable blue polo shirt, jean jacket, and jeans of a Watchdog Admiral. The color blue was synonymous with authority on Gavin’s Rock, a fact that Silla was all too aware of.

“Hey, Mrs. Rakaprabawa, right?” The man’s voice was smooth, his eyes scanning her with a mix of recognition and something darker.

Silla’s heart skipped a beat as she recognized him: Rudy Maybank. She had fought this man twice before, and twice she had left him clutching his groin in agony like a stupid man he is. Even now, she noticed he still had a slight limp, he still stood with legs wide opened.. But without her mask, she knew he couldn’t connect her to the masked avenger who had busted him. Instead, she saw something different in his eyes—an attraction that made her skin crawl.

She loved Alif deeply, but she also knew that playing her cards right with Rudy could be a significant advantage. He was one of the high-ranking Watchdogs, after all.

“Hey... Admiral Maybank, right? The admiral,” she replied, her voice calm, even as she felt her stomach churn.

“Just call me Rudy,” he smirked, his eyes lingering on her with a predatory gaze. He pulled out a small notebook, flipping through the pages. “So, where were you five nights ago?” His tone was casual, but Silla could sense the underlying suspicion. He has a list of the women and their whereabout when the incident happen.

“I was just here at home, waiting for my husband to come back,” she answered, her voice carefully passive. “I heard there was an attack at the concert. My husband came home injured, and Dr. Hodenberg’s clinic was full. I did my job as a good wife to tend him.” She kept her tone steady, knowing how important it was to avoid raising any red flags.

Rudy usually conducted thorough searches of the homes, but today, there was something different in his demeanor. His eyes wandered over her, and Silla could see the hunger in them. “Well, can I have a coffee? I’m too... tired,” Rudy said, his voice lowering as he stepped inside, not waiting for her permission.

Silla nodded, forcing a polite smile as she led him to the couch. Rudy sank into it, his eyes roaming around the room. “Your husband is a proud Goldminer, huh?” he commented, noting the various tools and medals displayed on the walls.

“Yeah, he is...” Silla replied, bringing him a hot cup of coffee. She sat beside him, keeping a careful distance but letting her eyes lock onto his, knowing exactly what effect it would have. “But I always think... Watchdogs are hot. I wish my husband had joined the Watchdogs, but hey... he’s a Goldminer at heart.”

Rudy’s smirk widened, his gaze growing bolder as he felt the tension between them. “Well... I do have time to talk for a while... and maybe more than talking...” His hand reached out, touching her arm, sending a wave of revulsion through Silla. But she knew she had to play this right. If Rudy trusted her, it could open doors for their mission.

“W-What your husband doesn’t know won’t kill him, huh? It’s normal for a woman to admire a Watchdog. We’re the alphas...” Rudy’s voice dripped with arrogance as he leaned in closer, his hand now tracing up her arm. “And maybe... you, little Asian bitch, want to serve me... just a secret between us.” His lips hovered dangerously close to hers, his intentions clear.

Silla’s heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of anger and fear swirling within her. But she forced herself to stay calm, knowing that her next move could make or break their plans. As Rudy’s lips touched hers, she fought the urge to recoil, knowing she had to bide her time and wait for the right moment to strike.

 

 

The "Harpoon" was crammed with excited miners, waiting for Sebastian to announce something important. Many of them had been present on the memorable day of what was now called the 'Harpoon incident' and felt slightly uncomfortable, but tried to suppress that sentiment, or at least didn't show it to the others. Meanwhile, all of them were again able to get an erection, except Micky, of course, who seems to have vanished without a trace. Also Archie, the bartender, was able to work again, though he still wore a bandage on his head (someone had smashed a Whiskey bottle on it during the incident). He checked from time to time that the gun he kept below the bar was still there, but this was the only obvious sign that he was nervous. Today, no women, not even slaves, were allowed at the bar, and a group of Watchdogs led by Brennan, Sebastian's bodyguard, secured the entrance. The Watchdogs were now routinely equipped with night vision goggles, as a result of the most recent terror attack at the concert hall.

"Heard anything about Micky?", Archie whispered to Drew while he refilled his glass. Drew shook his head, looking worried. "The last place where he was seen was Hodenberg's clinic. We were told he's still recovering, and needs rest... Only the triumvirate, and probably Hodenberg himself, know where he is and how he's doing ... after..." Drew suddenly stopped, and shook his head again. "Let's not talk about that now... there's Sebastian!" The crowd of miners applauded when Sebastian jumped on a table. He gestured them to be silent, and started to speak.

"Yesterday, I led a couple of college boys through our mines, showing them the place where honest, courageous men work to assure our wealth and power! I told them what we are doing there! And what is it?", he asked the miners. He gave the answer himself: "We're fucking Mother Earth! We fuck her with our big drills, force her to spread her legs for us, and give us her gold!" The men laughed and cheered, grinning evilly. Some shouted "Yeah!", and some made some dirty jokes, illustrating them with obscene gestures. "I can tell you, those college boys loved it! I could see they got excited, and their little drills got hard, ready to fuck Mother Earth like real men! We don't have to worry about the future of Gavin's Rock, despite the recent attacks of a couple of rebelling sluts! Boys will be boys! Men will be MEN! And gold will be GOLD!" Again, the crowd cheered and applauded. Then came the really important announcement. "We're digging deeper and deeper in the island's foundation! Alif Rakaprabawa, our new mining engineer, had some great new ideas how to do that safely and fast! And guess what we have discovered deep in Mother Earth's vulva? TONS of previously  undiscovered gold! TONS of it! We'll all be millionaires! Every single miner! And Gavin's Rock will be richer than the Emirates or Silicon Valley! We're now on top of the world!" Now the miners freaked out totally. Sebastian waved at Alif, and let him climb the table next to him. "Fuck those terrorist bitches! We're now the kings of the world!", Alif shouted.

Sebastian laughed heartily as the music blared through the packed bar, his movements fluid and confident as he led the men in a raucous dance. Despite his rugged masculinity, he was a natural on his feet, his body swaying rhythmically to the beat. The miners followed his lead, their spirits lifted by the promise of wealth and power. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and whiskey, the room vibrating with the collective energy of the men who felt untouchable, invincible.

“We’re the fucking GOLDMINERS! WE’RE RICH! WE’RE GONNA GET A LOT OF GOLD!” Sebastian shouted, his voice booming over the music as he threw his head back in laughter. He downed another glass of whiskey, the amber liquid burning down his throat as he reveled in the chaos. “And it’s all because of

you, Alif. You’re a freaking genius!” His words were laced with both admiration and something more sinister—a sense of shared power that came from exploiting the island and everyone on it.

Alif, standing beside him, nodded with a smug grin, soaking in the praise. “Yeah, I learned from the best,” he replied, his voice dripping with arrogance as he clinked his glass against Sebastian’s. There was a darkness in his eyes, a satisfaction that came from the control he held over others, particularly over his wife, Silla (or he believed so).

Sebastian’s laughter faded into a sly smile as he looked at Alif, his mind already shifting to another topic. “So, I’ve heard you’re married. How’s your wife reacted to all this mess lately?”

Alif’s expression hardened, his lips curling into a sneer. “Well, boss, I’m the real Alpha. Silla is a fucking stupid weak bitch. She can’t do anything. She’s scared of me. So, I doubt the terrorists will have anything to do with her!” His words were laced with venom, his pride evident as he spoke of his wife as if she were nothing more than an object, a possession he could control and manipulate at will.

Sebastian chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the conversation. “Same as Tini. She’s nothing but a means to an end. She’s raising my son, Gavi—he’ll be the future of this town. Have you ever thought about having a son?” Sebastian’s eyes glinted with ambition, his voice carrying the weight of expectation.

Alif’s face briefly faltered, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. He was too ashamed to admit that since arriving on the island, he had been plagued with a constant series of injuries to his groin that left him unable to perform sexually. Every time he got close, some incident would happen that would leave him writhing in pain and filled with impotent rage. It was a secret that gnawed at him, a failure he couldn’t bear to acknowledge, especially not to a man like Sebastian.

“I’m trying,” Alif answered tersely, masking his frustration with a tight smile.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension but choosing to push further. “Well, if your wife can’t give you what you need, maybe it’s time to ditch her. Look at Chase—he should have gotten rid of Madelyn a long time ago. She might be the most beautiful woman here, but if she’s not up to the task, what’s the point?” His voice was cold, devoid of any real emotion. To him, women were simply tools, to be used and discarded when they no longer served their purpose.

“And she’s too vanilla for me anyway,” Sebastian continued, his eyes narrowing as his voice took on a more lecherous tone. “White women are hot, but I love something spicier.” He gestured toward the bar’s entrance, where two women were tied to posts, their bodies bound and vulnerable. “How about we fuck those bitches—Marisol and Paulina—at my place?” His words were a vile suggestion, spoken with the casualness of someone ordering a drink.

Alif nodded, his grin returning as he looked at the helpless women with a predatory gaze. The thought of using them to satisfy his own frustrations, to take out his anger on them, was more appealing than he cared to admit.

Meanwhile, at Sebastian’s house…

Tini moved quietly through the dimly lit house, her heart pounding in her chest. She had just sent Gavi to a friend’s house for the night, needing the time and space to gather the things the BDSM Sisters had asked for. They had contacted her, a woman who had suffered silently for years, and asked for her help in bringing down Gabriel, Sebastian, and the other men who ruled Gavin’s Rock with iron fists. It was a dangerous game she was playing, but she was ready. She had to be.

The clock on the wall ticked closer to 9 PM, and she knew the BDSM Sisters were scheduled to arrive at 10. They had the whole night to plan, to execute their mission while Sebastian was too busy partying at The Harpoon. Or at least, that had been the plan.

Tini’s heart nearly stopped when she heard the unmistakable sound of Sebastian’s car pulling into the garage. Panic surged through her as she peeked out the window, her breath catching in her throat. There he was, along with Alif, dragging two women behind them by ropes, their bodies limp and defeated.

“HURRY UP, YOU FUCKING SLOW BITCHES!” Sebastian’s voice bellowed as he yanked on the ropes, pulling the women inside with a cruel laugh. His words were followed by the sound of the door slamming shut, trapping the women inside.

"Seb!", Tini gasped. "Who are those girls? What are you..." - "Shut up!", Sebastian interrupted her. "Don't you see me and Alif have some business to do? Get us some drinks, and then leave! Or...", he looked at Alif and grinned, "... are you interested in my wife? She's a real slut, I can order her to suck your dick anytime if you like!" Alif glanced at Tini, hesitated, but then shook his head. He thought it wasn't wise to have sex with the wife of his boss, even if Seb offered it to him. But Alif was thrilled seeing how Sebastian treated Tini. "I'm still much to soft towards Silla. Time to show her her proper place." -  "Let's focus on those two bitches!", Alif proposed. "You've heard my colleague", Sebastian said to Tini. "He's not interested in you, and neither am I, so prepare us some drinks, and leave us alone!" Tini sobbed, turned around, and went to the kitchen, humiliated and confused. "So, let's see whether those two have learned their lesson in Koller's slave education sessions! I'm sure you like your dick sucked before fucking a whore, right?" Sebastian forced Marisol to kneel before him, and pulled down his jeans. An enormous, already hard dick sprung out, and Sebastian directed the girl's head to it. He gave an inviting look to Alif, who understood what was expected of him. Alif let Paulina go on her knees, too, and pulled down his pants, but to Alif's shame, his dick was still limp, and he realized he couldn't compete with Sebastian's size.  "Too excited, huh?", Sebastian snarled. "Nevermind! It's the job of that bitch to let it stand!" - "Yeah, right", Alif agreed, and grabbed Paulina's hair harshly. "Lick it! Don't pretend you've never seen a cock before!"

Marisol and Paulina trembled but they didn’t directly follow Sebastian’s cruel commands, their fear palpable. But beneath the surface, something was brewing—something that even Sebastian’s brutish instincts couldn’t quite identify. He could sense it, a gnawing unease in the pit of his stomach, but he dismissed it, chalking it up to the paranoia that had been creeping into his mind since the attacks began.

Sebastian, felt the need to reassert his dominance. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Marisol, her eyes downcast, her body rigid with fear. Without warning, he slapped her hard across the face, the sharp crack of his hand against her skin echoing through the room. The blow was meant to remind her of her place, to make him feel more powerful, more in control.

“Do what I say and maybe I won’t make this worse for you,” Sebastian growled, grabbing Marisol’s hair roughly and yanking her head back so that she was forced to look up at him. “Suck my dick, bitch!” he spat, his voice dripping with arrogance and cruelty. “Look at this fat juicky cock of mine and suck it your fuckin whore!” Sebastian imagine the girls are the BDSM sisters.

Marisol’s breath hitched in her throat, her eyes wide with terror, but she didn’t move. Something inside her had snapped, and instead of compliance, a burning hatred began to fill her chest. She wanted to fight back, but the fear of what Sebastian might do if she resisted paralyzed her.

Meanwhile, Alif stood nearby, his frustration mounting with each passing second. His inability to get an erection had been a constant source of humiliation for him since coming to Gavin’s Rock. Every failed attempt was a blow to his ego, and now, faced with this situation, his impotence felt like a glaring weakness that he couldn’t hide.

“Come on, bitch! Do your job!” Alif barked at Paulina, trying to mask his insecurity with aggression. But no matter how hard he tried to force the situation, his body refused to respond. His rage grew, threatening to boil over.

Sebastian let a mocking laugh to the women. “Or else...” he taunted, leaving the threat hanging in the air. It was a phrase that everyone on the island understood all too well. There was always an ‘or else’ with men like Sebastian—an ‘or else’ that usually ended in pain, degradation, or worse.

Upstairs, Tini’s heart pounded in her chest as she quietly dialed the number that had become her lifeline—the number of the BDSM Sisters. She could hear the muffled voices of Sebastian and Alif downstairs, their cruelty seeping through the walls of the house. Her hands trembled as she held the phone to her ear, praying that the women on the other end could help.

“I don’t know if you should come or not,” Tini whispered urgently into the phone. “Sebastian came back with one of the Asian Goldminers. They... they’re raping two slaves. These women need help, but we can’t gather any information if he’s here. I don’t know what to do.” Her voice cracked with the weight of her fear and helplessness.

On the other end of the line, Silla, already dressed in her BDSM Sister costume, glanced at Bianca, Dinah, and Madelyn. She put the call on speaker, her eyes narrowing with determination.

“The well-being of the women is our priority!” Madelyn declared, her voice firm and resolute. There was no hesitation in her tone; she was ready to act.

“Well, you three can handle him. I’m going to sneak into the workroom,” Dinah said, her mind already plotting the next move.

“I’ll handle the Watchdog patrols,” Madelyn added, her focus sharp.

“Yeah, and Bianca and I will strike,” Silla confirmed, her voice carrying the quiet fury of a woman who had seen too much and had finally had enough.

Back downstairs, Marisol and Paulina exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. They had been through hell, but they were no longer the broken, terrified women they once were. The fire of resistance had been ignited within them, and it was about to burn bright.

Sebastian, oblivious to the change in their demeanor, yanked Marisol closer, his voice dripping with vile confidence. “I know you want my cock. I’m a triumvirate!” he sneered, his eyes filled with twisted pride. But before he could force her to submit, Marisol’s eyes flashed with defiance.

“Viva BDSM Sisters,” she whispered through gritted teeth.

And then, with all the strength she could muster, she bit down—hard.

Sebastian’s scream tore through the house like a wild animal caught in a trap. The pain was immediate, searing, as Marisol’s teeth sank deeper into his flesh, turning what was supposed to be an act of domination into one of the most excruciating experiences of his life.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHH!” Sebastian’s scream echoed off the walls, his hands flying to Marisol’s head in a desperate attempt to pry her off, but she held on, her teeth digging in with a determination fueled by years of suppressed rage.

Paulina, emboldened by Marisol’s defiance, turned her attention to Alif. She could see the fear flicker in his eyes, the realization that he had lost control. Without a second thought, she bit down on his dick, hard enough to draw blood.

Alif howled in pain, his body convulsing as he tried to push her away, but Paulina held on, her grip tightening as she inflicted as much pain as possible. The two women, bound together by their shared suffering, held each other’s hands, ready for whatever came next. They knew they would pay for this, but at least they would leave a mark.

The fear of being castrated overwhelmed Sebastian. Where he had felt the greatest pleasure a man can feel just a few seconds ago was now only endless pain. Determined to save his beloved cock, the core of his male identity, he punched Marisol's head brutally, and her head flew to the side. Her sight was blurred, she was dizzy, and a roaring pain echoed through her head. She saw Sebastian's gigantic, bleeding dick directly before her face, and his heavy, bulging testicles dangling below it. In a heroic attempt to focus on her prey, she grabbed his balls, and squeezed them as hard as she could. Sebastian screamed in renewed pain, feeling like an animal in a deadly trap. Marisol looked at Paulina, who was struggling to keep Alif's dick in her mouth while the panicking Asian man was desperately pulling on her hair to free his manhood. "Remember what the Sisters taught us! Go for his balls! Crush them! Break them!", Marisol yelled. Paulina let go of Alif's cock, choking and spitting, and clenched her hand around Alif's scrotum. Alif's eyes bulged out, and he produced a suffering, gurgling sound. "You stupid impotent loser, it's better for you to get rid of those useless eggs!", Paulina hissed, and squeezed even harder.

Sebastian’s screams echoed through the room, a desperate, high-pitched wail that no longer resembled the powerful man he once was. Marisol's hands, now strong with the fury of years of oppression, gripped his balls with unyielding force. She could feel the soft tissue give way under her fingers, the pain she inflicted shattering his veneer of invincibility.

“I wish these stupid organs never existed,” Marisol hissed through clenched teeth, her voice low and filled with venom. “And I wish men never existed! Women would live in a better place without monsters like you!” Her eyes locked onto Sebastian's, and for the first time, she saw something she never thought she would see in him: fear. The mighty triumvirate, a man who held so much power over others, was as fragile as any other man when faced with his own mortality.

Sebastian’s ego, built on the backs of countless women he had abused and degraded, crumbled in that moment. His eyes, once filled with arrogance and cruelty, now reflected nothing but panic and helplessness. He could feel his identity—his very essence as a man—slipping away with each pulse of pain that radiated from his groin.

Upstairs, Tini watched the scene unfold from the top of the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest. The man who had once been her husband, the father of her child, now lay begging at the feet of another woman, his power stripped away in an instant. “Tini... help me... help me...” Sebastian’s voice was a pitiful whimper, a far cry from the commanding tone he usually wielded.

But Tini felt nothing but cold resolve. This was the man who had tormented her, who had treated her like nothing more than a tool to raise his son, who had inflicted unimaginable pain on countless others. And now, he was reduced to this—a sniveling, broken man at the mercy of a woman he had tried to rape.

“No...” Tini’s voice was icy, devoid of any emotion as she stepped forward. “You deserve this, Sebastian. And I wish your stupid fucking eggs were done!”

At that moment, Brennan, Sebastian’s loyal but dim-witted bodyguard, stood just outside the door. He heard the noises coming from inside—the high-pitched cries—and smirked to himself. “Girls shouting? Well, Sebastian really went all out this time!” Brennan chuckled, the pitch of Sebastian’s screams not even registering in his thick skull as anything other than the sounds of women being "pleased." Like many men on the island, Brennan’s ability to think critically was overshadowed by his arrogance and the belief that women could never pose a true threat. Or simply men are dumb. I really hate men. Well reader, it’s time to punch your  fuckin balls to celebrate the stupidity of male species. Do it or you’ll end up like Sebastian.

Inside, the situation took a turn. Desperate and feeling his life slipping away, Sebastian's hand groped blindly for something, anything, to defend himself with. His fingers brushed against the cold metal of a hammer—a tool meant for digging, but one he often used as a weapon when the mood struck him. With a surge of adrenaline, he grabbed the hammer and swung it with all his might, striking Marisol in the side of the head.

Marisol gasped as the blow connected, her grip on Sebastian loosening as she staggered backward, dazed. Blood trickled down the side of her face, but the fire in her eyes remained undiminished. Sebastian still in pain but hissed “Die... you bitch”

Meanwhile, outside the mansion…

The BDSM Sisters arrived in the shadow of the mansion, the night air heavy with anticipation. Silla, dressed in her battle-ready attire, scanned the perimeter, her mind racing with the plan they had meticulously crafted. Every second counted, and there was no room for error.

Silla turned to Madelyn, her concern evident in her eyes. “Madelyn, are you sure you’re up for this? You took a pretty bad hit in the last fight with Hayes.”

Madelyn nodded, her jaw set with determination. “I’ll be fine, Silla. But I’m not in any shape to take on a triumvirate right now. I’ll handle the Watchdogs. You focus on Sebastian and whoever he’s with.”

Silla placed a hand on Madelyn’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “You’re strong, Madelyn. Just be careful.”

“I will,” Madelyn replied, her voice steady. She knew the risks, but she was prepared to face them head-on. With a deep breath, she turned and began her approach toward Brennan and the other Watchdogs, her mind already calculating the best way to draw them away from the mansion.

Silla then turned to Dinah, who was crouched nearby, her lithe form blending into the shadows. “Dinah, you know what to do. Get into the workroom and gather whatever intel you can find.”

“Got it,” Dinah whispered, her voice calm and focused. “I’ll be in and out before they even know I’m there.”

Silla nodded, then looked at Bianca, who stood beside her, her expression grim but ready. “Bianca, are you ready?”

“Always,” Bianca replied, her eyes flashing with determination. The two women shared a brief, wordless exchange, each knowing what was at stake.

But as they prepared to move, a knot of dread twisted in Silla’s stomach. She had a bad feeling about the man who was with Sebastian—the Asian man who had been mentioned. She couldn’t shake the fear that it was her own husband, Alif. The thought made her blood run cold, but she pushed it aside. She couldn’t afford to let her emotions cloud her judgment now.

Now, Madelyn stood in front of the front door. “Hey, boys. Well, Brenan, right? And Felix? Do you miss me?” She saw Felix the watchdog that she busted in Gabriel’s house and another watchdog named Javi.

Brennan's jaw dropped as he saw the slim woman in her costume suddenly appear right in front of him. He was as dumb as he was handsome (he was very handsome, with glowing dark eyes, tanned skin, his black hair styled in the latest fashion). "Who... what ... what is that costume...", he stuttered in total confusion. Felix reacted faster, remembering that fateful night when he stood guard at Gabriel's mansion. "Brennan! It's her! It's one of them! BDSM! The terrorists... huuaaaaghh!" Suddenly Felix bent over, clutching his hands over his bulge. Madelyn's move had been so fast that the three Watchdogs hadn't even seen where that big stick in her hands came from, and how it landed between Felix's legs.

"Fuck!", Javi yelled, and immediately felt the very same pain as his friend in his gonads. "Hoargh...", he groaned, with an almost comical expression, as if he tried hard to keep something in his mouth that was about to come out. For a second, Madelyn imagined him puking out his own balls, and chuckled. But Brennan's weapon, a kind of baseball batter, reminded her to better concentrate - she could avoid it in the last moment. "Focus, Madelyn, these guys can be really dangerous!", she told herself.  Brennan swung his batter at her a second time, but this time, she blocked his attack with her stick. The impact produced a loud cracking sound, and Madelyn felt its raw power in her arms. "If you break my stick, I'll break your dick!", she rhymed in anger. "It has crushed so many balls already... college boys, miners, your two friends here... they all know how it feels... wanna feel it too, handsome?" - "Shut the fuck up and surrender, or I'll smash your masked skull!", Brennan growled

Madelyn and Brennan circled each other in the dimly lit corridor outside the mansion, their breaths coming in quick, sharp bursts. Brennan’s eyes were wild with rage, his broad shoulders tensed as he prepared to charge again. He had the brute strength of a bull, his fists like sledgehammers, but Madelyn was quick, her movements fluid and precise. She knew that to win this fight, she couldn’t rely on sheer force—she had to outmaneuver him, exploit his weaknesses.

Brennan lunged forward, his massive arm swinging with the force of a battering ram, but Madelyn was already moving, her body twisting out of reach as she swung her stick with calculated precision. The solid wood connected with a sickening crack against Brennan’s nose, sending a sharp burst of pain through his face.

“ARGHH!” Brennan roared, staggering back as blood began to pour from his nostrils. He clutched at his face, his vision blurring from the impact.

Madelyn grinned, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. “Ahh, poor boy,” she taunted, her voice dripping with mock concern. “Don’t open your legs too wide now—I think you’ve got a little... or big secret there!”

Before Brennan could react, Madelyn took advantage of his momentary distraction. With a swift, ruthless motion, she thrust her stick directly into his groin, driving it into his balls with all the force she could muster.

“ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHH! MY BALLS!” Brennan’s scream tore through the night, his voice filled with agony as he crumpled to the ground. The pain was unbearable, radiating through his entire body, but he was powerless to stop what came next.

Madelyn laughed, a cold, mirthless sound that echoed off the walls. “Ahh, Brennan,” she cooed, her tone mocking as she watched him writhe on the floor. “You’re just like all the other guys—so fragile, so easy to break. I’m the master of cooking. I break two eggs in the morning but now... maybe I’’ do it again for you”

Brennan instinctively tried to clutch at his bruised and battered balls, but before he could even bring his hands down, Madelyn was already moving. She stomped down on his groin with the full weight of her body, her boot pressing mercilessly into his manhood. Brennan’s eyes bulged with pain, his mouth opening in a silent scream as his world narrowed to the unbearable pressure crushing his most vulnerable parts.

“My husband says I’ve gained some weight recently,” Madelyn said, her voice laced with cruel amusement as she leaned down, applying even more pressure. “Is it true, Brennan? Am I heavy?”

She grinned as she stood over him, savoring the sight of him completely at her mercy. Brennan’s stick, now useless in his grasp, lay discarded by his side. In a move that was both symbolic and humiliating, Madelyn picked it up and shoved it into his mouth, the wooden shaft forcing his jaw open as she towered over him.

“Come on, talk,” Madelyn taunted, her smile widening as she twisted her foot, eliciting another muffled cry from Brennan. “Don’t act like a baby. Talk, handsome.”

Brennan could do nothing but moan in pain, his body trembling under her weight. Every ounce of his strength had been drained, and all that remained was a broken man, reduced to tears by the very woman he had so confidently underestimated. The once formidable bodyguard was now nothing more than a whimpering boy, crushed beneath Madelyn’s heel—both literally and figuratively

"Come on, suck on it", Madelyn taunted her opponent. "Just imagine it's Gabriel's divine Phallus... Isn't it an honor for you guys to suck your admired leader's cock?" Brennan shook his head while tears streamed down his cheeks, and made a desperate, sobbing choked sound. "What was that?", Madelyn asked. "Anyway, soon your balls are a total mush, then you're nothing but a little dick-sucking bitch boy, and ... ooops!" She had focused so much on Brennan that she had forgotten about the other two men, who were slowly trying to get up again, and reached for their weapons. Madelyn stepped down from Brennan, and went to Felix first. "Sorry I forgot about you, my boys!" She sent a hard kick between Felix's legs, then turned around, and did the same to Javi. Both men moaned in pain, and sank on their knees again. "That's how I like men most, on their knees, crying!", she exclaimed. Then she flinched, hearing loud fighting sounds from inside. "Shit, maybe my sisters need me and my stick!" She looked down on Brennan with regret. "You're lucky I have some more urgent business now... Maybe next time, cutie pie!" With these words, she ran inside, wielding her notorious fighting stick.

 

Sebastian struggled to stay on his feet, the pain in his balls radiating through his body like molten fire. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he forced himself to stand tall, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Marisol, who was barely conscious on the floor. “Well, well... I don’t like bitches...” he snarled, trying to maintain an air of intimidation despite the searing agony that twisted his insides.

Across the room, Alif was in no better shape. He had managed to shove Paulina away, but the damage was done. He hopped around the room, clutching his groin, his face contorted in pain. “SHIT!! FUCK!! It hurts! WHY, WHY?!” Alif’s mind raced, bewildered and furious at his seemingly endless string of injuries. Why did his balls always seem to be the target of every attack? It was as if the universe itself had singled him out for this specific brand of torment.

Sebastian, still reeling from his own pain, turned to Alif, his voice a harsh command. “Alif, be a man! You’re a Goldminer! We’re the backbone of this society—the most manly society in the world, the epitome of masculinity!” He barked the words, trying to rally both Alif and himself. But there was a tremor in his voice, a flicker of doubt that hadn’t been there before. “And these bitches... this is their end!”

With a growl of rage, Sebastian swung his mace, aiming for Marisol’s head. But before the blow could land, Silla appeared, her own mace raised to meet his. She grabbed the mace from the weapon’s box on Sebastian’s back room. The two weapons collided with a thunderous crash, the impact so powerful it echoed throughout the mansion. It was as if two titans were clashing, the force of their collision shaking the very air around them.

Alif, Bianca, and Tini dropped to their knees, the shockwave of the blow knocking the wind out of them. Madelyn, who had just entered the room, froze in place as she took in the scene before her. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she watched Silla stand toe-to-toe with Sebastian, neither giving an inch.

“No way... You have... the Conqueror’s Spirit...” Madelyn breathed, her voice filled with awe. “Only Gabriel, Koller, Chase, and Sebastian have it... so far. And maybe the blonde admiral” She looked at Bianca, her expression one of utter shock.

Bianca, however, only smiled, pride shining in her eyes. “That’s my girl,” she whispered, her voice tinged with admiration for Silla’s unexpected power.

Silla, on the other hand, had no idea what the Conqueror’s Spirit was. But she could feel something within her, a strength she hadn’t known she possessed—a force that seemed to rise up from deep inside, giving her the power to stand against Sebastian’s brutal onslaught.

Sebastian, catching his breath, laughed bitterly. “The Conqueror’s Spirit is a gift from the Phallus himself, bestowed upon selected men. We can make people crumble by our mere presence. You should know that Gabriel can make people pass out with his spirit alone. And he can control beasts with his spirit. That’s why those two wolves served him. This island... holds many mysteries, but no woman has ever had it...”

The disbelief in Sebastian’s voice was clear. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that anyone outside of the triumvirate or people they personall choose could wield such power—let alone a woman. It shook the very foundation of everything he believed, everything that had given him his superiority. But even as he laughed, his eyes betrayed his fear. This was something new, something he couldn’t control.

Their weapons clashed again, the sound reverberating through the room as they exchanged blows, each one more powerful than the last. Sebastian was a seasoned fighter, his brutality honed by years of dominance, but Silla moved with a grace and fury that was unmatched, her strikes fueled by a righteous anger.

Alif, sensing Sebastian’s growing desperation, tried to rush to his aid. But before he could take more than a few steps, Bianca was there, moving with lightning speed. She delivered a swift, brutal kick to his groin, the force of the blow doubling him over in pain. “Not yet, stupid pretty boy!” Bianca sneered, her voice cold as ice. Alif crumpled to the ground, his hands clutching at his groin as he moaned in agony.

Silla glanced at Madelyn, her expression softening slightly as she issued her command. “M, take the two women out of here. We’ll catch up...” Her voice was gentle, almost tender, when she spoke to her friend, but when she turned back to face Sebastian, a dangerous aura surrounded her, her eyes hardening with resolve.

Sebastian’s eyes bulged with shock and fear as he felt the full force of Silla’s presence bearing down on him. He had never imagined that a woman could possess such power, such raw, unbridled strength. The realization struck him like a blow to the chest, and for the first time in his life, he felt a true, bone-deep fear.

“I should kill you before Gabriel finds out about this...” Sebastian growled, his voice trembling as he tried to mask his terror with anger.

"Brennan! Felix! Where are you?!", Sebastian roared, bringing his weapon down again. Silla could block it once more, but she felt her arms shaking under the brutal force of the strike. "I'm afraid... your henchmen... are down with flattened balls... if they're lucky and still have them!", she groaned.  "You bitches!", Sebastian shouted. "You want to emasculate the whole island, huh?!"

 "That's the plan!", Silla smirked. Sebastians face turned red in anger. Then he remembered one of Gabriel's lessons, something his master had taught him to use only in case of emergency. He exclaimed the words "By the power of the Phallus! I have the power!" It was as if some kind of lightning hit him, and a renewed power flowed through him. Whether it was just by the suggestive power of his imagination, or by some real external effect - his next strike came with a might that let Silla's whole body resonate. "Shit", she cried, and her weapon flew out of her hand.

In Sebastian’s Work Room…

Dinah moved quickly, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she downloaded as much data as she could from Sebastian’s files. The digital screen in front of her blinked with the progress of the transfer—lists of Goldminers, blueprints, and other vital information that could be crucial to the BDSM Sisters' ongoing mission. Her heart raced as she worked, every second feeling like an hour.

But then, something caught her eye—a file labeled “PLAN GOLDEN by Alif Rakaprabawa.” Dinah frowned and opened the document, curiosity gnawing at her. The plan detailed an ambitious project to dig even deeper into the earth, targeting what was described as the biggest gold reserve on the island. At first glance, it seemed like just another expansion project, but as Dinah’s eyes scanned the details, her blood ran cold.

“No, no, no... the math isn’t right,” Dinah muttered to herself, her eyes widening in horror as she realized the implications of the flawed calculations. “This would be a catastrophe.”

Her mind raced as she pored over the numbers, cross-referencing them with her own knowledge. The calculations were off—dangerously so. If they proceeded with the plan as it was, the consequences could be catastrophic. The sheer depth and scale of the excavation would destabilize the entire area, potentially triggering a massive landslide. The Goldminers working the site could be buried alive, crushed under the weight of the very earth they sought to exploit. The worse thing is the female slaves could be burried too.

She was torn. The others were fighting for their lives in the living room, but this—this was crucial. Dinah knew she had to act fast, but she also had to trust in her friends. “Silla, Bi, I trust you two,” she murmured, her voice resolute as she began making her own calculations, determined to find a way to stop the disaster before it was too late.

In the Living Room…

The battle in the living room raged on, the air thick with tension and the sound of clashing bodies. Bianca’s fist connected with Sebastian’s chest, but the impact was like hitting a brick wall. He barely flinched, his towering form looming over her like an unstoppable force.

Silla, seeing the futility of their direct attacks, lunged for Sebastian’s hand, determined to disarm him. “If I can’t have a weapon, neither can you!” she growled, her voice filled with defiance. She gripped his arm with all her strength, but it was like trying to hold down a beast. Sebastian’s sheer power was overwhelming, and Silla found herself struggling to keep hold of him.

Bianca, undeterred, tried to maneuver around Sebastian, her mind set on one goal—to deliver a crippling blow to his balls. But before she could strike, Sebastian’s fist came down like a hammer, smashing into her face with brutal force. The impact sent her flying across the room, her body crashing to the floor with a sickening thud.

“B!” Silla’s heart lurched as she saw Bianca fall. She knew she had to act fast, but Sebastian was too strong. His grip on the mace was unyielding, and he seemed to grow more monstrous with every passing second. The situation was spiraling out of control, and for a moment, Silla felt the icy fingers of doubt creeping into her mind.

But then, a flash of movement caught her eye. Tini, who had been standing at the top of the stairs, suddenly charged down, her face twisted with a mixture of rage and determination. Memories of Sebastian’s cruelty flooded her mind—how he had taunted her, how he had promised to mold their son Gavi into the most evil man on the island, how he had ruined her life and shattered any hope she had once held for happiness.

Tini’s breath came in ragged gasps as she closed the distance between herself and Sebastian. He was so focused on Silla that he never saw her coming. With a scream of pure fury, Tini launched herself at him, driving her foot into his balls with all the force she could muster.

"OAAAAARGH!!!" Sebastian's scream was deafening, but it was music in the ears of B and S. The tall man was unprepared for that sudden attack, and the surprise, together with the explosion of pain in his most vulnerable organs, caused a shock that he couldn't deal with anymore. He sank to his knees slowly, dropping his weapon. His legs were shaky, and his arms were too weak to hold anything. Silla gasped with relief, she knew she had been in danger to be subdued in that fight. "I won't tell you who did that to you, but you may take a guess!", she told Sebastian, who stared into her face as if he understood nothing. "Alif... Alif... take her down...", he groaned. But Alif was still dealing with his own pain. "I'm afraid your dear colleague is busy crying about his squashed balls", Silla said. "If only his wife knew this! She loves her husband so much ... She would certainly come to soothe his pain!"

 

 

Sebastian almost cried out, his face twisted in agony and disbelief. The mighty triumvirate, reduced to this—helpless, humiliated, and at the mercy of the very woman he had once controlled. “Fuck you... Is that... TINI!?” His voice cracked, a mixture of shock and fury as he recognized the woman standing over him, the woman who had once been his obedient wife.

Tini stood tall, her eyes blazing with the fire of years of pent-up rage and pain. “Yes, it’s me,” she hissed, her voice cold and unyielding. “I’m done with you, Sebastian. I will take Gavi away from this island. I will get out of this place. Fuck you, Sebastian Giraldo!” With that, she drove her foot down onto Sebastian’s balls, putting the full weight of her suffering into the stomp. The pressure was excruciating, and Sebastian’s scream of pain echoed through the room, a desperate, broken sound.

“I will come back to this island,” Tini continued, her voice gaining strength with every word. “But when I do, it will be when women have taken over. You’ll be nothing but slaves!” Her words were a promise, a vow to return and see the downfall of the men who had ruled over them with iron fists.

“SHUT UP!” Sebastian roared, his desperation turning into blind rage. He tried to summon his “Conqueror Spirit,” the power that had always been his trump card, but this time, it failed him. The fear in his heart, the pain in his body—it all made him weak, and he couldn’t muster the strength to use it.

But Sebastian wasn’t just any man. He hadn’t become a triumvirate by being easy to defeat. Summoning every ounce of his willpower, he grabbed Tini’s foot with a vice-like grip. “GO AWAY!” he growled, slowly starting to recover, his body trembling with the effort.

Just then, Dinah burst into the room, breathless from her sprint down the stairs. “Some Watchdogs’ motorbikes are here! Maybe one of the guards called for backup!” she announced urgently, holding up the data drive she had just finished copying. The information was critical, but they were running out of time.

“Let him go, Tini,” Silla commanded, her voice firm and authoritative. “We need to grab what’s important and get out of here.” She turned to Bianca and Dinah. “Bianca, Dinah, bring Tini out. I’m going to have a little talk with Sebastian.”

Bianca nodded, her expression serious as she moved to help Tini. Dinah quickly began packing up the essential items they had gathered, moving with the practiced efficiency of someone who knew they had mere moments to spare.

Meanwhile, Silla approached Sebastian, her eyes cold and calculating. She straddled his gut, pinning him down with her weight, her hand reaching behind her to squeeze his already battered balls. Sebastian’s face contorted in agony, his body arching in a futile attempt to escape the pain.

“AAAGGHHH!!” Sebastian’s scream was guttural, his voice a raw expression of the torment he was enduring. But Silla’s grip was unrelenting, her voice calm and measured as she spoke.

“I don’t believe in that Conqueror Spirit bullshit,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt. “But I’ll tell you this—stop putting toxic ideas into your men’s minds. You’re not a conqueror, Sebastian. You’re just a stupid, weak man with stupid, weak organs, which are as disgusting as your soul.” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, her words cutting like a knife. “It’s crazy how your entire identity as a man hangs on such a fragile organ. It’s as if Mother Nature herself decided that men were doomed from the start. She fucked with you by giving you those organs.”

With a cruel twist of her hand, Silla squeezed harder, drawing out another scream from Sebastian, his eyes rolling back in his head as the pain became too much to bear. “AA AAA AAAA FUCKK!!!” he howled, his voice breaking as tears of agony streamed down his face. “LET ME GO!!! I WILL FUCK YOU! FUCK MOTHER NATURE! I’M THE CONQUEROR OF NATURE!! SEBASTIAN, CONQUEROR OF NATURE! PAUL KOLLER, CONQUEROR OF MIND! CHASE, CONQUEROR OF POWER! WE’RE THE BEST!!!!” His voice was hysterical, the rantings of a man who was desperately clinging to the last shreds of his broken pride.

Silla looked down at him, her expression one of pure disdain. “Go cry,” she said, her voice filled with icy amusement. She released his balls, watching as he curled up in a ball of pain and humiliation. But she wasn’t done yet.

With a cold smile, Silla reached down and grabbed Sebastian’s own weapon—the very mace he had tried to use against them. She weighed it in her hand for a moment, then brought it down with all her strength, smashing it into Sebastian’s balls with a sickening crunch.

Sebastian’s scream was almost inhuman, a sound of pure, unfiltered agony that reverberated through the entire mansion. Silla stood over him, her heart pounding with the adrenaline of the fight, but her mind was calm, focused. This man, this so-called conqueror, was nothing more than a pitiful, broken little boy. He peed himslef but his balls are instact. “Well, you’re not a regular man. Well, see you later!” Silla laughed. Then she waited for the others and slipped away before the men entered.

The first thing the Watchdog squad found when the men entered Sebastian's mansion was a trio of three injured men, curling up on the floor - two of them, Javi and Felix, were whining and complaining, holding their groins, while  Brennan had passed out, with the top of his batter still sticking in his mouth. "What the fuck... I don't like what this might mean!", Chase Routledge cursed. He turned to one of his men, grumbling: "Ambulance, clinic, Hodenberg!" - "The doctor will be delighted, he hasn't had a free day in weeks now!", Chase thought. He pointed at another Watchdog. "Call Dr. Koller, he should come here immediately, his house is just around the corner!" Then Chase watchfully entered the living rooms of the mansion, followed by the rest of his comrades. He pulled out his gun - normally he thought he wouldn't need it, but these days were different than any he could remember. He heard some sobbing and moaning sounds, and carefully looked around the corner. What he saw gave him a shock, and a flashback of his castrated brother on the concert hall stage let him shiver. The great Sebastian, head of the Goldminers, lay sobbing and curled up on the floor of his main living room, and a crying Asian miner - the new guy, Chase remembered - lay next to him. Chase gulped, then turned back to his men. "I'll handle this alone! Search the rest of the mansion for his wife, his son, or terrorists!"

He approached Sebastian, and turned the big man's face to him. "Seb... what the hell ... The Sisters?!" To Chase's astonishment, Sebastian's face showed traces of tears. "Yes... ooourgh... and my wife... she supported them... catch her... bring her back... I want to punish her... and... she stole my son..."

Dr. Koller, who had just entered, heard the last words. "How could those women and your wife bring all of you down? It's hard to imagine!" - "They are... more powerful than we thought... the spirit... one of them has it... their leader!", Sebastian explained. Koller looked worried. "These are very bad news! The threat becomes more and more dangerous... They are striking at the heart of our realm, and they turn our wives and daughters against us!" Koller pulled out a small syringe. "This is a special adrenaline-amphetamine mix, it will bring Sebastian on his feet again! I have only three of these shots, I hope they won't be needed so soon anymore.  Of course, Hodenberg has to have a look at him, and also at this guy!" He pointed at Alif, and straightened. Chase could see the emotion of suppressed anger on Koller's usually cool and controlled face. "We must put an end to this! They're attacking our leaders, or elite... They also attacked my son!" Koller gritted his teeth. "And my nephew, a guest of my house... We can't allow this! More radical measures must be taken! Much more radical ones! I think we understand each other!" Chase nodded. "We underestimated them for too long! I hate to say this, but ... the danger for our society is real!"

At Dr. Hodenberg’s Clinic

The sterile white walls of the clinic contrasted sharply with the turmoil inside Silla’s heart as she sat beside Alif’s hospital bed. Alif lay there, unconscious, his face twisted in the throes of a nightmare. His voice, usually so strong and commanding, was now weak and tremulous as he muttered in his sleep. “No! No! Not my balls...”

Silla’s body ached from the recent battle, every muscle protesting with each movement. But she knew she had to be here. On this island, a wife was expected to stand by her husband’s side, no matter what. Any absence, any deviation from the norm, would raise suspicions. With a sigh, Silla ran her hand gently through Alif’s hair, her fingers brushing against the familiar texture. She leaned down and kissed his forehead softly. Despite everything they had been through, despite the anger and betrayal, there was still a part of her that loved him. They had too many memories together—memories from a time before this island had twisted their lives beyond recognition.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched him struggle in his sleep. “Why did you choose this path?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Deep down, though, she knew the answer. Alif had been lost, trying desperately to reclaim his sense of masculinity in a world that had warped the concept into something brutal and unforgiving. But his choice to bring her to this island had set them on a collision course with a reality she could no longer ignore. She wouldn’t stop until she had freed herself and the other women trapped in this nightmare.

Her quiet reflection was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. She quickly wiped her tears as Rudy Maybank, the Watchdog Admiral, entered the room. His presence was a reminder of the oppressive power structure that governed their lives, but Silla kept her expression neutral.

“Hey, don’t cry. He’s gonna be alright!” Rudy’s voice was casual, almost too light for the situation. He moved closer, his eyes scanning the room before settling on her. “Hey, Admiral Maybank,” Silla greeted him, her tone polite but distant.

“Just call me Rudy, remember?” he insisted, sitting down beside her. There was something in his tone that set Silla on edge, but she kept her cool. “Those terrorists were crazy. It’s a miracle your husband still has his manhood. I fought one of them last week, and she couldn’t do a thing to me,” Rudy bragged, trying to impress her with his supposed prowess. Silla had to bite back a laugh. She knew the truth—Rudy had always lost to her in their encounters, though he had no idea that the masked woman who had bested him was sitting right beside him.

Rudy’s eyes narrowed as he noticed the bruises and scars on Silla’s body. “You have scars and bruises—what happened?” he asked, his tone curious but with a hint of concern.

“Just trying to... fix the car on my own,” Silla lied smoothly. “Got a bit injured in the process.”

Rudy laughed, the sound grating on her nerves. “Women shouldn’t do that, you know the rules,” he chided, his voice tinged with condescension. He leaned in closer, his breath hot on her skin. “If your man isn’t man enough... you know when to call me,” he whispered, his voice laced with insinuation as he brushed a kiss against her cheek.

Silla flinched, pulling her head away. “Rudy... my husband...” she began, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Your husband is a pussy,” Rudy interrupted, his voice dripping with disdain. “But I get it... you’re devoted to him. Still, you should know there’s something called a LIONFIGHT on this island. You’re such a beautiful thing, and I could challenge your husband to a fight—with you as the prize. Chase won Madelyn by fighting Hayes. I’ll do it, because you’ll be mine.” His voice was low and predatory as he forced a kiss on her lips.

Silla clenched her fists, every fiber of her being screaming to fight back, but she restrained herself. She couldn’t afford to reveal her true strength now. As Rudy pulled away, a smug smile on his face, he added, “I’ll be in the next room. The Supreme Leader is here.”

Silla’s heart pounded in her chest as Rudy walked out, leaving her alone with the knowledge that Gabriel was in the clinic. The mere thought of facing him filled her with a mixture of fear and determination. She had to stay strong, for herself and for the women who depended on her.

As the door clicked shut behind Rudy, Alif’s eyes fluttered open. He had heard everything. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the humiliation burning in his chest. The words Rudy had spoken echoed in his mind,

He wouldn’t lose her. Not to Rudy, not to anyone. The rage that coursed through him was like a wildfire, consuming his thoughts. That Watchdog would pay. He would make sure of it

Gabriel reclined in the high-backed chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest as he scrutinized Sebastian, who sat across from him, legs splayed wide in a futile attempt to alleviate the pain. Despite his agony, Sebastian exuded a certain grim resilience—proof that he was cut from a different cloth than most men. Gabriel’s cold eyes narrowed as he studied his lieutenant, searching for any sign of weakness.

“So,” Gabriel began, his voice smooth yet sharp, like a blade hidden in silk, “one of them possesses the Conqueror Spirit?” The words were almost a whisper, yet they carried the weight of a thousand commands.

Sebastian, still struggling with the remnants of his ordeal, nodded slowly, his face pale but determined.

A laugh escaped Gabriel’s lips, his amusement cold and calculating. “Interesting. It’s like a stolen power—a theft akin to Prometheus stealing fire from the gods. That power belongs to us,” he declared, his voice hardening. “She’s not the rightful owner, and we will reclaim it. Mark my words.”

Determined to prove his worth despite the pain coursing through his body, Sebastian attempted to rise, but his legs betrayed him. “Hey, Sebatian. Don’t walk,” Dr. Koller intervened, stepping forward with a look of concern. But Sebastian, driven by a need to show his loyalty, pushed past the doctor’s warning and dropped to one knee before Gabriel, his head bowed in deference.

“Leader, I apologize for my loss,” Sebastian forced out, each word tinged with the bitterness of his failure.

Gabriel’s smirk was a chilling sight, a mix of disappointment and restrained fury. “Disappointing,” he said slowly, his voice like ice. “But... your new plan for the gold reserves trumps everything. I am a man who considers success alongside failure, and that is what saves you from losing your position.”

Gabriel’s piercing gaze swept over the triumvirate, each man feeling the weight of their leader’s scrutiny. Koller and Chase, recognizing the gravity of the moment, also dropped to their knees, heads bowed in submission.

“The fault lies equally among the three of you,” Gabriel continued, his tone laced with subtle menace. “Chase, you’ve failed to lead the Watchdogs effectively. And Koller,” he added, turning his gaze on the doctor, “I expected more from your methods. Why are these women still rebelling?”

A tense silence filled the room as Koller quickly gathered his thoughts. “I give you all time, but not much. Koller, what’s your plan?”

“Unmask them,” Koller replied, his voice steady despite the pressure. “They’re hiding in plain sight. We need to root them out, expose them for what they are.”

Gabriel nodded, his expression unreadable. “Well, yes. And don’t forget—find Bianca.” With that, he rose from his seat, his movements fluid and precise, like a predator who knows the hunt is far from over.

As he exited the room, Rudy was waiting just outside, his usual smirk replaced by a look of anxious anticipation. Gabriel’s presence alone seemed to drain the confidence from those around him.

“I need time alone. I’ll drive myself,” Gabriel said calmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Rudy nodded, stepping aside as Gabriel strode down the hallway. As Gabriel passed the room where Silla sat beside Alif, their eyes locked for the briefest of moments. Gabriel’s steps faltered, just slightly, as a strange sensation tugged at the edges of his consciousness. There was something different about her, something that unsettled him. But he dismissed it just as quickly, attributing it to the strain of the day. With a slight shake of his head, he continued on, leaving the clinic and the growing storm behind him.

In Silla’s Room

Rudy re-entered the room where Silla sat, still beside Alif, though her thoughts were miles away. “Hey, I was dismissed,” Rudy said, trying to sound nonchalant. “The Supreme Leader wants some time alone. I think you need to eat. Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving too.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her gently but firmly towards the door. Silla hesitated for a moment, her mind racing. She knew she had to keep up appearances, to maintain Rudy’s trust if she was going to accomplish her goals. With a small nod, she allowed herself to be led out of the room.

In the Car

Gabriel sat behind the wheel, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as the darkness of the night enveloped him. The cool facade he had maintained throughout the day finally began to crack. His jaw clenched as memories of the day’s failures played over in his mind—each one a blow to his pride, his authority.

The first crack in his armor was subtle, a twitch of his lips. But then, with a sudden, violent motion, he slammed his fist against the steering wheel. “FUCK! YOU ALL WHORES! BITCHES!” His voice echoed in the confined space, raw with unbridled fury. “I won’t let my legacy fail. I’ll kill you personally, whoever you are, the four of you!” His words were a vow, a promise made in the heat of rage, but one he intended to keep.

His breaths came in ragged gasps as the storm inside him raged on, but slowly, he forced himself to calm down. The night was his ally, shrouding him in darkness as he drove through the empty streets. The road ahead was long and uncertain, but Gabriel knew one thing for sure: he would not rest until he had crushed the rebellion underfoot, until he had reclaimed the power that was rightfully his.

The engine roared as Gabriel sped into the night, the darkness swallowing him whole as he set out on a path that would lead to the island’s reckoning.