Gavin's Rock - Chapter 9 (The Three Admirals, Only Four Balls)

 

That day, Silla was walking through the aisles of a small, dimly lit store, carefully picking up the items she needed. She dropped a box of baking powder into her basket, alongside a few other household chemicals that would seem harmless to most. But Silla knew better now. Dinah was a genius—a quiet mastermind who could turn simple, everyday substances into potent weapons. They needed these for the rebellion, and Silla was more than willing to play her part.

She glanced over the list Dinah had given her, ticking off the items one by one. Her mind wandered as she thought about how far they had come, how Dinah had discovered a way to concoct a poison that only affected men, reacting with their testosterone. It was brilliant, cruel, and exactly what they needed.

Next on her list was a trip to the pharmacy. As Silla walked out of the store and onto the street, her thoughts were interrupted by a voice that sent a small shiver down her spine.

"Hey, meet you again!" A familiar voice greeted her casually.

Silla looked up to see Rudy Maybank, the blonde, broad-shouldered Watchdog Admiral, leaning casually against a nearby wall. His bright blue polo shirt, jean jacket, and tight jeans marked him as a man of authority on Gavin’s Rock. He had that infuriating smirk on his face, the one that seemed to say he could get whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. And today, it seemed, he wanted her.

Silla smiled back, though she didn’t know why. Rudy was her enemy—part of the system that had enslaved her and so many others. But when he wasn’t barking orders or patrolling the streets, he was handsome, undeniably charming. She hated herself for noticing it.

"Yeah. Aren’t you busy patrolling, Mr. Admiral?" she replied with a polite smile, trying to ignore the unease crawling up her spine.

Without hesitation, Rudy wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer, his touch bold and possessive. “This Saturday’s the Watchdogs’ anniversary,” he began, his voice lowering to a murmur. “We’re having a big party, and everyone’s bringing a date. I thought... how about you come with me?” He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a chill through her body. “You’d be the most stunning person there.”

Silla’s heart pounded in her chest. There was something intoxicating about his presence, his confidence. The way Rudy looked at her was different from Alif. He knew exactly how to touch her, to make her feel wanted in ways Alif had never managed. But no. She was still Alif’s wife, wasn’t she?

"Rudy, that’s... really kind of you, but—"

He cut her off, his smirk widening. “I know, I know. You’re gonna say no. Don’t worry, though. This full moon, I’m gonna fight your husband in the Lionfight Festival. And when I win—because I will win—you’ll be mine.” His voice dripped with arrogance as if Silla was some prize to be claimed. “Just... let me know if you change your mind about the party,” Rudy whispered before leaning in, pressing a kiss against her lips. His touch was forceful, claiming, and then he walked away as casually as he had appeared.

Silla stood frozen for a moment, watching Rudy’s retreating figure, her mind swirling. It felt wrong. All of it. Why was Rudy so intent on her? And why was she... why was she even considering his offer, if only for a second?

She shook her head and continued her walk, trying to push the thought away. But as she approached her house, a strange feeling washed over her. Something wasn’t right.

There was noise coming from inside.

“Alif?” she muttered under her breath. He wasn’t supposed to be home this early. Cautiously, Silla peeked through the window, her heart sinking as the scene unfolded before her eyes.

Alif was there. But he wasn’t alone.

He was tangled in a heated kiss with one of the slaves from The Harpoon, their bodies pressed against each other in a way that made Silla’s stomach churn. She felt her heart shatter in her chest.

Tears welled up in her eyes, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she turned away from the window. Without thinking, she ran. Ran from the house, from the betrayal, from everything that had just crumbled around her. Her feet carried her to the only place she could think of—the BDSM Sisters’ headquarters at the General Kitchen.

At the headquarters, Silla burst through the door, her chest heaving from the run, her tears spilling freely now. She barely made it inside before collapsing into a chair, her face buried in her hands.

Madelyn was the first to rush over. “Silla! What happened?” she asked, concern lining her voice.

Silla looked up, her eyes red and puffy. “I knew Alif was an asshole! I can’t take it anymore” she sobbed, her voice cracking with pain and anger.

Bianca, always the one with the sharp tongue, leaned back in her chair, a smirk playing on her lips. She twirled a knife in her hand with casual precision. “Should we... cut his fuckin’ dick off?” she suggested, her tone dripping with dark humor.

“No,” Silla sniffed, shaking her head. “It’s not that simple. I just... I have something in mind.”

Madelyn raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?” she asked, her voice cautious but curious.

Silla wiped her tears, her jaw clenching as she tried to gather her thoughts. “Rudy asked me to be his date for the Watchdogs’ anniversary. It’s stupid, but... I want to make Alif jealous.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of her words settling in.

“Make him jealous... and you can get the storage key from Rudy while you’re at it,” Dinah chimed in, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Plus, it gives us the chance to spread a little terror in the minds of those Watchdogs.” She smirked, clearly excited by the opportunity.

Madelyn nodded slowly, the gears turning in her head. “I’ll be there with Chase anyway. We could be on the inside while Bianca and Dinah spread the chaos.”

Dinah’s smirk grew wider, almost wicked. “It’s time to test out my newest creation. The poison I made—itches like hell and reacts with testosterone. No effect on women, but those Watchdogs are going to feel like they’re burning alive.”

“And I’m always ready to kick some balls,” Bianca added, her voice filled with dark amusement. She looked at Silla, her eyes gleaming. “So... what do you say?”

Silla took a deep breath, her mind racing. Alif had betrayed her. Rudy was dangerous, but maybe... maybe this was the chance they needed.

She nodded, her voice steady but cold. “Okay. I’m going with Rudy.”

The decision was made. The wheels of their plan were set in motion.

The Day Of The Watchdog Party

"So ... we will be Watchdogs?!" Lucas was puzzled when he heard Damian's announcement. "Well, not real Watchdogs ... more like Junior Watchdogs, or applicants in a test phase ...", Damian had to admit.

"There have been so many injured men recently that they need every fighter they can get, my dad says. And you know Gabriel has a special eye on me ... on us!", he corrected himself. "That's great", Yello said, but he didn't look very enthusiastic. Since the concert hall incident, the slender redhead had developed a phobia about sticks and batters of any kind.

"Of course it's great!", Damian affirmed, not noticing Yello's worried face. "And just at the right moment - the Watchdog anniversary! Our new status will be announced there publicly, and we will be initiated to their troops!"

"I know how Watchdogs party!", Lucas grinned. "After the official part, when everyone gets drunk, it will end up in an orgy ... Slave girls for everyone!" - "Oh wow", Yello said, getting even more nervous. "But isn't it dangerous? Remember the events at The Harpoon ..."

 "Nonsense", Damian said. "Dangerous? In a room full of Watchdogs?! That's ridiculous!" Damian sounded as if he wanted to convince himself about this. "And all those bitches will be collared, of course... Chase just needs to press one button on his remote, and they're all down the next moment!" Lucas nodded. "I'm curious what our first mission will be! I hope we will confront those BDSM sluts soon! I want revenge for what they did to us!"

"Yeah!", Damian said. "And I'm sure Gabriel will reward the men who defeat one of them, and reveal their identity!"

 "That's for sure", Lucas said slyly. He knew Damian was Gabriel's favorite, being Koller's son, but he also knew he was the better man, more worthy of Gabriel's trust. "Damian sees me as the number two after him!", Lucas thought. "That arrogant fool... Just the fact that your daddy is a part of the triumvirate doesn't mean you earn a place at Gabriel's side!"

The boys reached the Watchdog headquarters just when the celebration was about to start. The notorious red flag showing two wolves was hoisted above the entrance of the old, majestic building. "There's Chase!", Damian noticed. "Don't forget he's our new boss! Let's try to impress him today! Then we'll be full-fledged Watchdogs sooner than we think!"

Chase strode into the grand hall with Madelyn by his side, his imposing figure towering over the crowd. He exuded power, his presence enough to make even the most hardened Watchdogs glance nervously in his direction. Madelyn walked quietly beside him, her collar still in place—visible evidence of her status. It was the only functioning collar among the BDSM Sisters, a reminder of her position as Chase’s prize and the last barrier she had yet to break free from. The cold metal against her neck was a chain she longed to shatter, but tonight, she played her role to perfection, calm and composed.

Chase’s face was unreadable, but there was a gleam in his eyes as he surveyed the room, the soldiers of Gavin’s Rock gathered to celebrate their dominance. To make a statement, he released his Conqueror Spirit, a force of pure will that radiated from him like a shockwave. The air seemed to grow heavy, and many men in the room fell to their knees, unable to withstand the weight of his power.

Among the fallen was Yello, one of the most foolish and weak-willed youngster there. His knees hit the ground with a thud, his face pale with fear. “What... What was that?” he stammered, his voice filled with panic. He scrambled to understand the unseen force that had dropped him to the floor.

Damian felt his legs give out beneath him, struggling to maintain his composure. “No... Dad have this spirit and I can endure it. Why Chase’s spirit is so... threatening.”

But Lucas stood firm, his body unflinching, eyes cold and steady. He was one of the few who could endure Chase’s spirit without breaking.

Chase smirked, impressed by Lucas’ resilience. He walked over and tapped Lucas on the shoulder. “Well done, young soldier,” Chase said, his voice low but laced with approval. Lucas nodded in silent acknowledgment, standing tall in his blue jeans and new Watchdog uniform, unshaken.

With the air still tense from his display, Chase moved to the VIP table, his hand resting lightly on Madelyn’s arm as they sat down. Chase carried himself like the true leader of the Watchdogs, a man above all others.

Rudy and Silla joined them at the VIP table, Rudy’s arm wrapped possessively around Silla’s shoulders. She kept her expression neutral, but the discomfort gnawed at her insides. She inhaled deeply, steadying herself, knowing she had to play the part for their plan to succeed.

Chase glanced at Silla. “The newcomers,” he muttered, eyes narrowing as he focused on her. “Alif Rakaprabawa’s wife?”

Rudy tightened his hold on her, grinning smugly. “Not for long. She’ll be mine soon enough. I’ll fight that Asian guy in the next Lionfight,” Rudy said, his voice dripping with arrogance as if Silla were nothing more than a trophy waiting to be claimed.

Chase nodded, a flicker of dark amusement crossing his face. “That’s how I won Madelyn,” he replied, though his voice faltered slightly. His thoughts drifted to Hayes, his once-strong brother now a broken man, locked in the darkness of a basement, stripped of his manhood and spirit. Chase’s words trailed off, the memory of his brother made him angry.

At the table sat other Watchdog elites, including Froy, who had his wife Chiara on his arm, and Cole, seated proudly with his new girlfriend, Jacqueline. The party was a showcase of power, of men who thought they ruled everything around them—women, wealth, and the island itself.

Silla smiled politely, though her mind was elsewhere. “Excuse me, Rudy. I need to go to the ladies' room,” she said sweetly, gently untangling herself from his grip.

Rudy nodded, giving her a wink before turning back to the men at the table. Silla stood up, smoothing her dress as she walked toward the back of the hall. But the ladies’ room wasn’t her destination.

She slipped into the kitchen instead, where the slaves worked quietly, their heads down, moving efficiently under the gaze of the guards. Silla caught the eye of one of the women working there, a brief glance exchanged between them. The slave gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

Silla moved quickly, her heart beating faster with each step. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a vial containing the special poison Dinah had created. It looked harmless—clear, like water—but it was anything but. This substance would only affect men, its reaction triggered by testosterone. Once it entered their system, it would unleash hell. The Watchdogs wouldn’t know what hit them.

She poured the poison carefully into the drinks that were being prepared for the men, making sure the slaves understood. “They won’t suspect a thing,” Silla whispered, her lips curling into a cold smile. “And it will only affect men. Don’t worry.”

The slaves nodded obediently, their fear masked by the silent understanding that they were part of something bigger. A rebellion that might finally free them from their chains.

With the deed done, Silla returned to the table, her heart still racing. She leaned against Rudy, her body stiff but trying to appear casual. His arm slid around her waist once more, and she felt that strange conflict bubbling up inside her. He smelled clean and strong, a mix of manly musk and expensive cologne. His blonde hair shone under the dim lights, catching the attention of anyone who glanced their way.

Why did he have to be so infuriatingly... attractive?

Silla shook the thought from her head, disgusted at herself for even entertaining the idea. Rudy was vile, worse than the worst of animals. He treated her like property, like a prize he was eager to claim, and yet... why did she feel a strange sense of comfort around him?

She hated him. She hated everything the Watchdogs stood for. But tonight, she needed to play her role, and that meant enduring his presence just a little longer.

She glanced at the men around the table, each of them laughing, boasting, completely unaware that their world was about to turn upside down. Soon, the poison would take effect. And when it did, the Watchdogs would finally feel the sting of their own arrogance. Chase stood up and start his speech.

"We will begin our celebration with our traditional prayer", Chase said solemnly, "as the earliest Watchdogs did it in the times of Gavin the Great!" Then, to Silla's astonishment, the tall man raised his head to look at the ceiling, and started to howl as loud as he could, like a wild dog howling at the moon. Soon after him, all the Watchdogs fell in, letting the women flinch. Also Damian, Lucas and Yello looked up howling, with pride in their eyes to be part of that great movement of real, tough men with their archaic rites.

"I see also our wolf cubs are howling with us", Chase said, smiling. "My boys, we welcome you in our rows! In these challenging times, seeing the outbreak of a rebellion, we need fresh blood in our pack! Dr. Koller recommended you three to us, and I hope you won't disappoint our expectations! And, all of you ... never forget that Gabriel relies on us! We're a main pillar of the society on Gavin's Rock. The Watchdogs protect the herd, and they also bite some sheep when it's necessary, to bring them back on the right path!" At this moment, Chase looked at Silla, as if he tried to read her mind. "All of you know that a gang of female terrorists is threatening our peace at the moment... Female terrorists!" He spat out the words with a disgusted face. "Some of you have already confronted them, and you know ... they fight dirty!" Many men suddenly looked uncomfortable, and also the three Junior Watchdogs instinctively bent over slightly, looking down at the table. "But I assure you - we are ready for them! We will maul and mangle them, we will tear their leather costumes off, unmask them, and chase them through our streets naked! We will expose them, punish them, and then we will fuck them!" Now the men cheered, laughed and yelled "Yeah!", with renewed fighting spirit. "Even Gabriel's wolves will fuck them! Publicly! That I promise you today!" Loud, mischievous laughter echoed through the room. "A toast!", Chase shouted, raising his glass. "A toast to the pack of wolves, a toast to the honor of men, a toast to our new wolf cubs, and - finally - a toast to our supreme leader, Gabriel Leister!"

The men drank their drinks without a second thought, completely unaware of the poison that was about to course through their bodies. Silla glanced around the room, watching them, her face composed but her eyes sharp. She spotted several of the Watchdogs they had encountered in battle before. Benson was there, looking as sturdy as ever, though the memory of Madelyn easily defeating him made her smirk. Madelyn, sitting just across from Silla, caught her gaze and flashed a knowing grin as she glanced at Benson, clearly relishing the memory of her victory.

Brennan, still nursing injuries from their last encounter, stood off to the side, unwilling to miss the celebration despite his discomfort. At his side was Yello who idolized Brennan, constantly hounding him for advice and tips. Silla’s gaze swept further, noting Felix, Blake, and Javi mingling near the back, their drinks in hand. They were all about to be hit by the consequences of their arrogance.

Moments passed, and Silla felt the anticipation build. Then, it started.

Rudy was the first to react. His hand moved casually at first, scratching his jeans. Silla’s lips twitched into a small smile, her eyes shifting silently toward Madelyn. Madelyn's expression mirrored hers, eyes glinting with satisfaction as she noticed Chase shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Chase’s face contorted in confusion, then quickly twisted into pain. He stood up abruptly, his eyes wide. “Shit... it feels like my dick is burning from the inside!” he bellowed, his voice filled with panic.

And then, chaos erupted.

The hall was filled with the agonized screams of men. Everywhere, Watchdogs clutched their groins, their faces contorted with unbearable pain. The stronger men, like Benson and Brennan, fought to stay standing, but even they couldn’t escape the burning sensation tearing through their bodies.

"FUCK!! MY FUCKIN’ DICK!" Froy’s voice roared through the air, echoing off the walls. His face was twisted in agony as he stumbled back, desperately clutching his groin, his tough demeanor shattered.

Yello, the weakest of them, was spared the worst of the pain by simply passing out, his body collapsing to the floor with a dull thud. “Stupid!” said Lucas but he also felt the pain. “ARGHH” the blonde guy scream. He tried to still get up while Damian eyes bulge. “What is that!!!”

Rudy’s hand shot out, grabbing Silla’s in a desperate attempt to anchor himself. "Babe..." His voice was barely a whisper, his face a mask of pain as he gripped his groin, trying to ease the burning. Silla leaned toward him, her face the picture of concern, though inside she felt nothing but satisfaction.

"What’s wrong, Rudy?" she asked innocently, her voice soft and sweet, masking the cold pleasure she felt watching him suffer.

"ARGHHH!" Rudy groaned, falling from his chair, his hand furiously scratching at his crotch as if he could somehow tear the pain away. "ARGHHH, SOMEONE HELP ME!"

But no one could help him. All the men were suffering the same fate, the poison working its cruel magic. Around the room, the once proud and arrogant Watchdogs writhed on the floor, cursing, screaming, their hands helplessly clawing at their groins. Silla watched, calm and collected, as the poison did its work, bringing these so-called alphas to their knees.

"AAAAAAAAARGHH! My dick!" Felix was the first Watchdog to pull down his jeans, taking his dick in his hands to examine it. But he couldn't see anything, it was as if the pain wasn't exterior, but came from the inside. Felix grabbed his dick, bent it, pulled it, but it only made the pain worse. Brennan was the next one to drop his pants, exposing his injured dick and bruised, still greenish balls. No one took note of him, however, except Madelyn - a mischievous smile of satisfaction appeared on her face when she saw the result of her attack on Brennan some days ago. "Wow, it still looks horrible -  I did a great job! A pity I can't take a picture of this broken mush of a manhood", Madelyn thought to herself.  Blake and Javi hopped and squirmed, clutching their hands over their bulges under the internal torture. Froy, in a fit of beginning madness, took a full Whiskey bottle from the table, and slammed it on his own dick, as if he wanted to extinguish a fire between his legs. But, as was to be expected, the stupid man's action just added to his misery. Damian and Lucas both lay half on the table, cupping their groins, and howled again, but this time not like wolves, but like abused dachshund cubs. Yello lay under the table, his hands over his bulge, still unconscious, but with a grimace of pain on his pale face.

Chase, slamming his fist on the table to ease the unbearable pain, was the first to understand what was going on. "An attempt on our lives! A terrorist attack! They're here! Watch out! Search them!", he screamed, but all Watchdogs were so much affected with the sudden pain in their genitals that no one reacted to his order.

Cole’s scream pierced through the chaos, louder than the rest. “NOT AGAIN! NOT AGAIN!” he howled, his body shaking as his hands desperately clutched his groin. The pain brought back memories—horrible, searing memories of the BDSM Sisters, and what they had done to him before. The trauma still haunted him, a nightmare he could never escape. His face twisted in anguish as he sank to the floor, trembling like a broken man.

Silla couldn’t hold back a laugh this time. Watching these men—these so-called powerful Watchdogs—reduced to pitiful, screaming wrecks was too much to resist. Cole, once so smug and confident, was nothing more than a sniveling wreck. The sight of it made her chest tighten with satisfaction.

Rudy was on his knees beside her, gripping his crotch as if trying to stop the agony tearing through him. “AAAAARGHHHH... STOP THIS!” he screamed, his voice raw, veins bulging in his neck as he howled in pain. His nails dug into the fabric of his jeans, trying to claw the pain out, but it was relentless.

Silla just smiled, keeping her face composed as she leaned closer to Rudy, pretending to offer comfort. Inside, though, her mind was racing with how easily he had crumbled. The once arrogant Watchdog Admiral, now whimpering like a wounded dog at her feet. As Rudy writhed, she noticed something glinting in his pocket. The master key—the very key all admirals carried, giving access to every door in the Watchdog headquarters and facilities. Her pulse quickened.

Rudy was too far gone, too overwhelmed by the burning sensation ripping through his body to notice anything. This was her chance. With deft fingers, Silla slid her hand into his pocket and grabbed the key, tucking it away without so much as a second glance. He didn’t even realize it.

Suddenly, a voice rang out from above, cutting through the noise. “Hello, boys. Does it hurt?” Dinah’s voice was sweet, taunting, dripping with mock concern despite the voice changer. She and Bianca perched on the window sill, looking down at the scene below like predators watching their prey squirm. Their plan there is just to take the blame. If Chase wasn’t see them, he will assume this is an inside job, which is true.

Dinah’s eyes met Damian’s across the room. His face was twisted in pain, sweat dripping from his brow as their gazes locked. Dinah’s lips curled into a smile. “Pathetic,” she said softly, shaking her head in amusement.

Bianca stood beside her, grinning widely. “Well, boys,” she called out, her voice filled with dark amusement, “that’s our little gift to you. I hope the pain’s unbearable enough that you decide to take the short way out. Go ahead, end it. I’ll let you figure out how—though with your tiny brains, I doubt you’ll manage.” She threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing in the room full of agonized men.

Something shifted in the room.

Chase.

Through the agony, through the burning, Chase stood. His entire body trembled with pain, but his eyes burned with fury. He gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face as he limped forward, step by agonizing step, toward the window where Bianca stood.

“Fight me!” Chase roared, his voice a mix of rage and defiance. He drew his sword, the blade gleaming in the dim light as he pointed it toward Bianca. His body was in agony, but his will, his sheer force of will, kept him standing.

Bianca’s smirk widened, her eyes lighting up with the thrill of a challenge. “Anytime,” she growled, flexing her fists as she prepared to meet him head-on.

Silla’s heart skipped a beat, her face paling. This wasn’t part of the plan. They were supposed to get in and out, not engage in a full-on fight with Chase. Her eyes darted to Bianca, shaking her head subtly, trying to signal her to stop. But Bianca’s blood was up, and Silla knew she wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge.

Chase slashed his sword through the air, aiming straight for Bianca.

Silla’s eyes widened in shock. “Chase... He can fight through the pain...”

Madelyn leaned in close to her, her voice barely a whisper. “That’s him. He’s a natural-born monster.”

Dinah, quick as ever, saw the escalation and moved. She darted across the room and grabbed Damian, pulling him close and pressing a blade to his groin. “Move, and I’ll cut it off,” she hissed, her voice cold and unwavering as she dug the knife into his pants.

Chase laughed—a dark, vicious sound. “You think I care about one watchdog?” His eyes glinted with amusement, but his body still trembled from the pain coursing through him.

Dinah didn’t flinch. “Look again who is he!” She pressed the blade harder. “Koller won’t appreciate losing his son’s manhood,” she warned, her tone icy.

Chase’s face faltered for a moment, his smirk fading. He hesitated, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. Silla saw her opening and shot a look toward Bianca, silently begging her to back down.

Bianca’s eyes met Silla’s, and after a tense moment, she understood. This wasn’t the time. Not yet.

With a final, defiant look, both Bianca and Dinah turned and sprinted toward the window, their movements fluid and practiced. Without hesitation, they leaped through the open window, disappearing into the night.

“No!” Chase bellowed, his voice filled with fury as he slammed his fist into the wall. He had lost them.

Panting heavily, Chase ripped his phone from his pocket, dialing quickly. “Hodenberg, Koller, get to the Watchdog headquarters. Immediately,” he barked into the receiver, his voice hard as steel. “And no word of this to Gabriel or Sebastian. Understand?”

The line went silent, and Chase’s chest heaved with rage. He had been bested tonight, but this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Koller's limousine and the ambulance car reached the Watchdog headquarters almost at the same instant. They heard the screaming, cursing and whining of many suffering men already from outside. "Oh no", Koller mumbled, "not again..." Hodenberg had almost the same thought when he heard the noise. The doctor looked tired and weary, as if he hadn't slept in days. "I'll better get some more shots and ice bags", he said, and returned to his car, while Koller rushed to the main hall. "Damian!", he shouted, when he saw his son. He hugged him, relieved to see his son looked unharmed, even though he seemed to be suffering. "No blood on his crotch...", Koller sighed. "Thank the Phallus!" Then he knelt besides Yello, and slapped the boy's face. "Hey, are you alright?" Yello opened his eyes, and immediately started to scream. "Holy balls, what is going on here?!", Koller exclaimed. "The terrorists ... they were here!", Lucas groaned with gritted teeth, holding his groin. "Must've ... used ... some poison ..." - Alarmed, Koller sniffed, but couldn't smell any gas. "They... or, one of them... threatened to castrate Damian!", Lucas continued. "What?!", Koller shouted. His usual cool attitude was changed abruptly when he understood the danger his son - and his whole family line - had been in. At this point, Dr. Hodenberg entered, amazed by the ongoing chaos. "We should call the Watchdogs", he proposed, then he realized he had said something stupid. "They're all here, to my knowledge", Koller stated redundantly. Meanwhile, Yello had stopped to scream, and tried to behave as manly as possible, even though the suffering men around him irritated him. Gazing at Brennan's exposed, bruised manhood, he was deeply shocked seeing a man he liked and adored in such a state. Damian turned to his father. "Dad ... they're evil ... wild ... they wanted to ... to ... they had a knife ...", he stuttered, complaining like a little boy to his father. "It's alright, son", Koller tried to calm him. "They wouldn't dare to harm my son! They know I would kill every single one of them if they did!" - Hodenberg went to Chase, and gave him the first shot. After a minute, the Watchdog leader relaxed. "As I thought", Hodenberg said. "A toxin reacting to testosterone! Those men must've gone through hell!" The experienced doctor shivered. "Our enemies are not only brutal, but also very sophisticated!"  - "That explains why the women were not affected", Koller said.

The tension on Gavin’s Rock had eased, at least for the moment. It had been a full week without another attack from the rebels, and while most of the men were relieved, Rudy remained on edge. He suspected the silence was nothing more than the calm before the storm, the eye of a brewing hurricane. The pain from the last attack had subsided, thanks to Dr. Hodenberg's antitoxin, but the humiliation still lingered, festering beneath the surface like a wound that refused to heal.

Rudy stood at the weapon warehouse, overseeing the latest shipment of weapons. Maces, spiked flails, and crossbows filled the crates, their cold metal gleaming under the afternoon sun. Lucas, now officially appointed as a Watchdog by Chase after withstanding the infamous Conqueror Spirit, guarded the shipment like a loyal soldier. His face was hard, showing the pride of his new status, while beside him stood Benson, who was still trying to reclaim his dignity after the embarrassing defeat weeks ago.

"Admiral, I think that's all," Lucas said, motioning to the crates. His voice was steady, but there was a trace of hesitation, as if he was still trying to prove himself after his recent promotion.

Rudy nodded, his eyes scanning the arsenal. “Good. Keep an eye on everything. We can’t afford any slip-ups.”

Just as Rudy finished inspecting the haul, Froy, another Watchdog Admiral, strutted into the warehouse. He eyed the weapons with interest, walking over to one of the crates and pulling out a sleek crossbow.

"It's all good," Froy said with a smirk, holding up the weapon as if he owned the place. "We need to teach the men how to use these dangerous beauties properly."

Without warning, Froy took aim at one of the female slaves nearby. With a swift pull of the trigger, the bolt flew across the room, embedding itself into the wall just inches from her head. The woman flinched but didn’t cry out, her body trembling in fear.

Froy laughed. "See? They’re all weak... Women. No fight in them." His voice was dripping with arrogance as he turned to Rudy.

Froy chuckled and leaned closer to Rudy. “Speaking of women,” he began, his tone conspiratorial, “how’s your progress with that pretty little wife of Alif’s? Silla, right? You’ve had your eye on her for a while now.”

Rudy’s face darkened, but there was a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “She’s coming around. It’s just a matter of time before she’s mine. I’ve been patient, letting her get comfortable. When I win the Lionfight, she’ll be mine for good.”

Froy grinned and clapped him on the back. “That’s how you do it! Patience, my friend. I took Chiara after my victory, and now she knows her place.”

The two men exchanged a knowing look before grabbing a pair of swords from the shipment. They were brand new, the blades gleaming dangerously in the fading light.

Rudy glanced at Froy, his competitive spirit kicking in. “Wanna spar, brother?”

Froy’s grin widened. “You think you can beat me? Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The two men moved to the center of the space, squaring off with their swords raised. Lucas watched from the sidelines, his eyes narrowing as he studied the Admirals. He had always known they were strong, but seeing them now, their skill was undeniable. Every movement was calculated, their strikes fast and precise. Rudy swung with ferocity, but Froy countered effortlessly, their blades clashing with sharp metallic sounds that echoed across the warehouse.

For a moment, it seemed like Rudy was gaining the upper hand, but Froy was quick to regain control, his blade slicing through the air in a blur. “You’re not bad, but you’re not taking me down that easily!” Froy taunted, his laughter punctuating each swing.

Lucas stood there, watching in awe. This was why they were the top dogs—Rudy and Froy’s strength and skill were unmatched. They fought like wolves, relentless and unforgiving, and Lucas knew he still had a long way to go to be like them.

Before the spar could finish, a Watchdog entered the room, panting heavily. “Admiral Maybank,” he said breathlessly, “your... girl is here.”

Rudy lowered his sword, his brows furrowing in confusion. He hadn’t expected any visitors today, least of all Silla. “Silla?” he muttered under his breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. Why was she here?

Froy and leaned in with a crude grin. “Can’t wait for you, huh? Probably eager for that dick of yours. I bet she’s counting down the days ‘til you take her in front of everyone, after you win that fight with her pathetic husband.”

Rudy smirked and gave Froy a high-five, their laughter filling the space for a brief moment. But inside, something gnawed at Rudy. Silla showing up unannounced? That wasn’t like her.

He sheathed his sword and walked outside, the cool evening air hitting him as he approached Silla, who stood waiting. She smiled sweetly, her hands carrying a covered dish.

“Hey... didn’t expect you here,” Rudy said, his voice softening as he looked her over. She was a sight for sore eyes after all the stress and tension of the past week.

Silla returned his smile, her tone light and playful. “I brought you some dinner. I thought... well, I’d rather cook for you than for Alif. I hope you don’t mind.”

Rudy’s eyes flickered with something more than just appreciation. He reached out, gently touching her chin. “You’re going to make a good wife for me, Silla. Be patient, dear. Soon enough, you’ll be mine.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, but she kept her smile intact, knowing she had to play her part perfectly. She was here for a reason, not just to drop off food. Tucked in her bag were the small, deadly timer grenades Dinah had crafted, meant to be planted in the weapon vault. Tonight was the night they would get the weapons out for the girls.

Silla took a step back, her voice low. “I should go. I’m not supposed to be here, you know...”

Before she could move, Rudy grabbed her wrist, pulling her close. Without a word, he pressed his lips to hers, his mouth hungry and possessive. Silla’s body stiffened, her mind screaming to pull away, but something about the moment trapped her. His kiss was forceful, and she hated herself for it, but a part of her couldn’t resist.

She tried to remember all the vile things Rudy had done, all the pain he had caused. But in that moment, his touch was captivating, his hold intoxicating. She felt herself giving in, her lips pressing back against his for a brief second before she snapped back to reality. No, she thought. This isn’t real. This isn’t love.

When Rudy finally pulled away, a smug smile on his face, Silla forced herself to stand firm, her mind clear again. She could see the lust in his eyes, the way his pants tightened around his growing bulge. That’s all this was—lust. Nothing more. He wanted to claim her, to own her, and in that moment, she knew with absolute certainty that nothing was holding her back anymore.

“See you later,” Rudy whispered, his voice thick with desire, completely unaware of the storm that was about to hit him.

"That's also a way to avoid losing a sword fight", Froy mocked Rudy. "Maybe you're better with that 'sword', huh?" He pointed at Rudy's bulging jeans, where the form of his pulsating cock was clearly visible. "Idiot", Rudy mumbled. "Jealous, huh?" But Rudy had to admit he didn't understand his own feelings anymore. As a Watchdog, he could have as many slave girls as he wished, anytime, but there was something about that little, fragile Asian woman that didn't let him sleep at night. It was sexual attraction, of course  (he had wild fantasies involving Silla whenever he was daydreaming), but he felt there was more to it... Instinctively, he felt that she had a secret, and was keeping her ideas very much to herself... Of course, it was also alluring for a man like Rudy that he could humiliate Alif, the precocious newbie, and put him in his proper place. Rudy was looking forward to the fight. "That lady wants a winner!", he thought. "Alif can't give her what she really needs..."

Lucas saw an opportunity to impress the senior Watchdogs. "Maybe ... if your friend is distracted ... we can have a little fight!", he said to Froy. "It would be my honor to fight against an Admiral!" - "Show us what you can", Rudy agreed, and handed his sword to Lucas. Froy glanced at his opponent, and then feigned a strike at Lucas. The college boy reacted fast, and blocked Froy's sword with his own. "Impressive! Obi-Wan has taught you a lot", Froy joked. "But now let's get serious!..." - BAAAAMMMMMMM! Something very close to them exploded, and a cloud of dust and fog filled the room within seconds. "Wow! I didn't expect such a trick!", Lucas said in awe. "Fuck! It's not a trick... It's an attack!", Froy yelled. Rudy had been a few meters away, at the sink, to pour some cold water on his face, and try to forget Silla. He turned around to see nothing than an expanding cloud of gas approaching him. "Shit! I don't want to lose my ability to get a hard-on now, just when I'm so close to conquer Silla!", he thought.

Nearby, Cole was on patrol with Damian and Yello. Damian was still angry that Lucas had been promoted instead of him. "I'll show them who's the better one!", he told Yello for the hundredth time. When they heard the explosion from the weaponry, they winced, immediately recognizing that it was an emergency. "Either these idiots can't handle explosives properly ... or ... it is ...", Cole said. The boys knew what he was anticipating. Damian clenched his hands around his batter, eager to confront the terrorists. His cousin gulped nervously, but swore himself to fight on Damian's side - whatever it would take.

Froy stumbled out into the open air, coughing as he tried to shake off the dust and smoke still clinging to his lungs. The blast had disoriented him, and in the chaos, he’d lost track of where Rudy and Lucas had gone. His eyes darted around, searching for his fellow Watchdogs, but before he could make sense of his surroundings, he heard the soft thud of feet hitting the ground behind him.

Madelyn and Dinah had jumped down from their hidden vantage point, Madelyn wielding her wooden stick and Dinah ready with her acrobatic agility. The two women moved in perfect synchronization, surrounding Froy with lethal precision.

Froy barely had time to register what was happening before Dinah’s swift kick connected with his left arm, sending a shockwave of pain down to his elbow. Madelyn followed up, bringing her stick down hard on his knee. The impact sent him down to the ground with a grunt, his knee buckling under the blow.

But instead of panic, Froy grinned.

"I heard the stories from Cole and Rudy,” he growled, pushing himself upright, his face twisting into a malicious smile. “Let’s bring it on, bitch! It’s payback for last week!"

His eyes gleamed with fury as he lunged forward, grabbing the other end of Madelyn’s wooden stick. With a quick, forceful twist, he snapped the stick in half with ease, the wooden shards splintering in his hands. “Too bad!” he sneered, chuckling as he tossed the broken pieces aside.

Before either woman could react, Froy spun around and delivered a hard punch directly into Dinah’s stomach. The force of the blow knocked the wind out of her, and she doubled over, gasping for air. Madelyn, momentarily distracted by her broken weapon, realized too late that she and Dinah were dealing with a different kind of opponent. The Watchdog admirals weren’t like the others. They were stronger, faster, and far more brutal.

Froy’s laughter echoed in the air as Dinah struggled to catch her breath, clutching her stomach in pain. “You thought you could take me down like the others?” Froy taunted. “You're playing in the big leagues now, sweetheart.”

Meanwhile, on the far side of the main warehouse, Rudy and Lucas crept toward the edge of the complex. They had managed to avoid the explosion’s immediate impact, but the confusion had set them on high alert. Rudy scanned the area, and his eyes narrowed when he spotted two figures entering the complex, each driving a truck.

"That’s the goldminers’ trucks," Rudy muttered under his breath, his frustration mounting. "Those stupid airheads must’ve let the girls steal from them!"

He didn’t waste another second. "Follow me," Rudy barked, making a beeline toward the east vault, where the most valuable stockpile of weapons was stored.

As they reached the vault’s exterior, the sound of footsteps behind them made Rudy whip around, his hand already on the hilt of his knife. Cole, Yello, and Damian had arrived.

Cole looked straight at Rudy. “What’s going on?”

“I think they’re after our weapons,” Rudy growled, his mind racing. “We just restocked the new shipment! They must know about it.”

Rudy’s brow furrowed. How the hell did they know? His mind churned, piecing together the puzzle. Something wasn’t right.

“Cole, take your men and handle the west vault,” Rudy ordered sharply. “Lucas, you’re with me. We’re securing the east vault.”

Cole nodded, motioning for Yello and Damian to follow him as they split up.

"Fuck you, now I have two sticks!", Madelyn said, but her voice was shaking slightly. She knew that she couldn't fight that dangerous man with just two short sticks. Froy noticed her fear with the instincts of a predator. "I sense your fear, bitch!", he taunted. "Give up, and I might let you live ... and her!" He had kept his eyes fixed on Madelyn, but had slowly approached Dinah. Being close enough, he delivered a hard kick in Dinah's side. The girl screamed, and curled up. Madelyn assembled all her courage. "Leave her alone! Is that all you can do, kicking a girl on the floor?" - "I can do much more!" With this, Froy gave a powerful high kick to Madelyn's chest. His heavy boots smashed at her chest, and she moaned, and stumbled backwards. One of the two pieces of her stick flew out of her hand. Froy saw out of the corner of his eye that Dinah wanted to get up, and kicked her again, sending her back to the floor, nearly unconscious. "I still have a surprise for you", Froy said with an ice-cold voice. He reached behind a box, and grabbed the sword he had dropped after his sparring with Lucas had been interrupted. "I know it's not fair - a sword against a broken stick - but that's the price you pay since you started to fight dirty!"

Madelyn’s eyes locked onto the large storage unit filled with weapons. It was heavily secured, fitted with an automatic locking system designed to trap any intruder who dared to enter uninvited. She realized she had two choices: she could trap Froy inside the storage by activating the automatic lock from outside, but doing so would mean she couldn’t move the weapons to the trucks. The mission was clear—get the weapons out—but her battered body, bruised from Froy’s brutal attacks, screamed for a different solution.

She clutched her aching chest where Froy’s kick had landed, her ribs protesting with every breath. Damn it, she thought, wiping the sweat and blood from her lip. I just need to buy some time.

"Shit. I hope the others can find weapons," she muttered to herself, feeling the weight of the decision pressing on her. Her thoughts raced, trying to find a way to take control of the situation. But then, something shiny caught her eye—a brand new metal stick, gleaming under the dim light of the storage. Unlike the wooden one she’d been wielding, this stick looked much sturdier, built for combat.

Madelyn’s heart pounded as she made a quick decision. She grabbed the metal stick, its weight reassuring in her hands. She winced, feeling the pain in her chest from Froy’s earlier hit, but pushed through the discomfort. Her plan wasn’t to fight him head-on—she knew that would be a losing battle. No, she needed him to follow her into the vault.

She ran toward the open storage door, glancing back to see Froy close behind. His twisted grin told her he was ready for more. “Where do you think you’re going, baby?” Froy taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance as he chased her into the vault. He swung his sword in wide arcs, laughing as if he was playing a game.

“Come on, here!” Madelyn shouted. She needed to draw him further in. She had to time this perfectly.

Froy smirked, clearly entertained by the chase. “You think you can handle a real man?” he jeered, shaking his hips in a grotesque display. “You don’t have what it takes, sweetheart. You don’t have this!” He grabbed his balls, mocking her with his crude gestures before swinging his sword again, aiming to finish her off with one clean strike.

The blade came down hard, but Madelyn was ready. She raised the new metallic stick just in time, blocking the blow with a resounding clang. The force of the collision reverberated through her arms, but she held firm. Froy’s eyes widened in surprise—he hadn’t expected her to block him, not after the punishment she’d taken.

Madelyn saw the shock in his face, and she seized the moment. With a burst of adrenaline, she threw her weight forward and slammed her fist into Froy’s face. His head snapped back, and he staggered, losing his grip on the sword as it clattered to the ground.

Before he could recover, Madelyn spun the metallic stick in her hands and swung it low, aiming straight for his groin. The metal connected with brutal force, and the satisfying thud was followed by Froy’s howl of agony. His knees buckled, his face contorting in pure shock and pain as he collapsed onto the floor, hands instinctively clutching his wounded manhood.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Madelyn growled, breathing hard, watching as the once-confident Admiral writhed on the floor, his arrogance shattered.

Madelyn looked at Froy triumphantly, trying to hide her relief. She kissed her new weapon, the metal rod. "I start to like this one... Ideally suited to crack some eggs!" Her warm lips touched the cool metal. "And cold as death ... death for testicles!" - "Hrrrgh, bitch... wait...", Froy groaned. To Madelyn's surprise, Froy already tried to get up, and reached for his sword. "Fuck, you're really not a quitter, I have to give you that!" But now that she had a long, hard pole in her hands, it was possible for her to reach him without risking her life. She slammed the rod on his right hand, and Froy let the sword slip again. He howled like a hurt wolf, holding his right hand with his left. "You forgot to protect something soft and slimy!", Madelyn remarked, and slammed her stick right between Froy's legs once more. The injured man howled again, this time twice as loud, and ended with a gurgling sound when he curled up in an embryo position. "So sorry I can't play with you any longer, but someone needs my help!", Madelyn said with a worried look at Dinah who still lay motionless on the floor outside the vault. "I guess this means house arrest for you!" She hurried towards the door, avoiding to come close to Froy, who could still pose a danger to her, even though he looked totally miserable at the moment. Outside of the room, she immediately activated the automatic lock, and the door was slammed shut. "Hope there's enough oxygen for him ... it was quite fun to play with that one!", Madelyn laughed, but she was panting, and walked limply. "Dinah ... Dinah! Everything okay?" - "I don't know ... my ribs ... it ... hurts when I'm breathing...", Dinah moaned. "Those Admirals are really a class for themselves", Madelyn stated. "And B and S will have to face the other two! We must help them ... get weapons and ... Oh no!" She realized there was now a locked door and a raging Admiral between her and the weapons inside the vault. She heard the hollow sound of Froy knocking on the door from inside,  cursing. She looked at her metal rod skeptically. "I guess this one will have to do then", she sighed.

Madelyn glanced down at Dinah, who lay crumpled on the floor, clutching her midsection in pain. The battle had taken its toll on her, and though she was tough, even Dinah had her limits. Madelyn knelt beside her, heart pounding with worry. She needed to get Dinah to safety before anything worse happened.

Looking around, she spotted the group of women slaves they had freed earlier—their backup, now arriving at just the right time. Madelyn waved them over, urgency in her voice. "Help me with her. Take Dinah to the basement," she ordered, her tone firm but laced with concern. "Get her to her mother—she’ll know how to tend to her injuries."

The women nodded and quickly lifted Dinah, carrying her away toward the hidden basement, leaving Madelyn standing alone. She wiped the sweat from her brow, her mind racing as she assessed the situation. She was at a crossroads. The west or the east vault? She didn’t know where she was needed more, but she had to make a decision, and fast. Time was running out, and the Watchdogs would regroup soon if she didn’t act.

On the other side, near the west vault, Cole stood ready with his mace, gripping the weapon tightly in his hands. The heavy iron ball and chain swayed ominously at his side as he kept his eyes locked on the entrance. His jaw was set, his muscles tense, every part of him prepared to defend the vault from intruders.

"You two," Cole barked, motioning to Damian and Yello, who stood a few feet away, "keep your eyes on the field!"

He couldn’t help but feel uneasy with Yello there—he was weak, nervous, and completely out of his element. Damian, on the other hand, was hot-headed and eager for a fight. Cole sighed, frustrated by the unevenness of his backup, but he couldn’t afford to be picky. An extra pair of eyes, even Yello’s, might help.

They all heard it—a faint rustling in the distance. The sound of movement, quick and deliberate, signaling that someone—or something—was coming their way.

Cole’s breath hitched as his grip on the mace tightened. He tried to focus, his body ready to spring into action. “It’s... them,” he muttered, barely keeping the fear from creeping into his voice. Memories of the last encounter with the women who had nearly cost him his manhood flooded his mind. His heart pounded in his chest. Shit.

Out of nowhere, Bianca leaped into view. Her movement was fluid, graceful, like a predator closing in on its prey. She landed on her feet in front of Damian, who had been facing the wrong direction, completely caught off guard. His focus shattered, and in an instant, his arrogance gave way to sheer terror.

"These college boys should think better than to fight us," Bianca taunted, her voice laced with mockery as she swung her leg in a swift, brutal arc. Her back kick connected hard with Damian’s chest, sending him stumbling back, gasping for breath.

"NO! NO! PLEASE NOT AGAIN!" Damian’s voice cracked with desperation, his blonde hair wild as he fell to his knees, clutching at the ground. His eyes wide, he screamed, "I’m the son of Paul Koller! NOOO!"

The title meant nothing to Bianca. Her smirk only grew wider as she loomed over him. "Your daddy’s name won’t save you now," she sneered, lifting her boot.

Nearby, Yello, already trembling with fear, tried to muster up some courage. He stepped forward, voice shaking. "Hello! I—I can hurt you! Move!" he stammered, hoping to make an impression on Bianca, but the fear in his voice was obvious, and Bianca saw right through him. His attempt to seem strong did little more than embarrass him.

Bianca turned to Yello, laughing darkly. "You look pathetic. Just leave this island. You don’t belong here. Save yourself while you can," she teased, her voice dripping with contempt.

Before Yello could even react, Bianca flicked her fingers toward his groin—just a small, effortless motion, but it was enough. Yello let out a pitiful squeal as he collapsed to the floor, clutching himself in pain. "AAA! AAA! DADDY! JONAH! HELP!" he cried, his voice high and strained as tears filled his eyes.

Bianca doubled over with laughter. "Oh my god, he’s so pathetic!" She glanced back at Damian, who was still whimpering on the ground, his hands shaking as he tried to regain his composure. "But you," she continued, her voice growing colder as she focused back on Damian, "you’re the real prize. Koller’s son, right? You’re a much better target."

With a swift, merciless motion, Bianca’s boot came down again, this time landing squarely in Damian’s groin. The force of the kick was brutal, and his scream was one of pure, unfiltered agony. His face twisted in pain, his entire body crumpling under the weight of the blow.

Bianca watched, her face emotionless now. "This is personal," she muttered as Damian writhed on the ground. "You deserve every bit of this."

Seeing Damian, the one person on the island he considered his friend, crying in pain almost broke Yello's heart. Ashamed of the tears in his eyes, and humiliated by the ease with which Bianca had brought him down, he sniffed: "Stop this! You ... you bitch!" He reached for the batter he had dropped with one hand, while he still pressed his other hand on his hurting balls. "How is it possible ... it was so easy for her ... maybe my balls were still bruised from that attack in the concert hall", Yello pondered in desperation. He was terrified by Bianca, but tried to suppress his fear. "Shut up", Bianca told him coldly. "I will eradicate your friend's manhood for good ... no Koller boys anymore on this island!" She raised her foot to stomp on Damian's crotch for a second time, ignoring the trembling redhead who crawled towards her, and then flinched: Yello had managed to hit her other foot with his batter. "I won't allow it", Yello said with a shaking voice. Bianca cursed. "Ooouuuw... that was the most pathetic strike I ever saw a boy do! I gave you a chance, now I will ... ugh!" Damian had gotten up on his knees, and shoved Bianca. She stumbled, but kept her balance. "You two are starting to annoy me", she grumbled. "I always hated college boys ... even when I was still in college!"

Bianca grabbed Yello by the ear, pulling him close. Her voice was mocking, dripping with disdain. "Stupid guy, stupid guy, stupid guy!" she chanted as she slapped his balls with her other hand, each strike a humiliating reminder of his weakness. Yello yelped, his body shrinking away from her, but she didn’t stop.

"That was so weak," Bianca continued, laughing cruelly. "Your swing, your stance—everything about you is pathetic." She turned her gaze to Damian, who was still struggling to pull himself together after the assault on his groin. "But... it seems you’ve got a good friend here, Koller." Bianca smirked, clearly enjoying the power she held over both of them.

Without warning, she landed a harder punch to Yello’s groin, making the redhead gasp in shock and pain. His body crumpled, his face twisting in agony as he fell to the ground, clutching himself.

 

Bianca, her blood pumping with adrenaline, moved toward Damian, ready to finish him off once and for all. But just as she raised her foot to deliver the final blow, she caught movement from the corner of her eye.

WHAM!

Cole’s iron ball swung through the air with brutal speed, colliding with Bianca’s left hand with a sickening crack. The force of the hit sent her stumbling backward, crashing to the ground with a grunt. Pain shot through her arm, but Bianca’s instincts kicked in almost immediately. Before Cole could recover for another strike, she swung her leg low, aiming for the one vulnerable spot she knew would hurt the most.

Her boot connected hard with Cole’s crotch, the sound of her impact unmistakable. A direct hit.

Cole’s eyes went wide as the pain washed over him, his breath catching in his throat. He staggered backward, desperately trying not to fall, but his body betrayed him. His knees buckled slightly, and his hands instinctively flew to his groin, clutching the pain that pulsed through his abdomen. His face was a mask of agony, his blonde hair damp with sweat.

"STOP!" he wheezed, his voice trembling but filled with fury. His pride demanded he stay on his feet, but the pain made it nearly impossible. Bent over, clutching his crotch, he spat out the words through clenched teeth. “Damian, get your weak ass out of here! Take your stupid friend and get to safety.”

Damian, still reeling from his earlier beating, hesitated, but Cole’s words were like a slap in the face. “You useless deadweight!” Cole growled, barely managing to stand. "If Koller finds out you’re dead, I’ll be the one in trouble! Why does Rudy get the strong Young Guns, while I’m stuck with daddy’s boys like you?"

Cole’s harsh words cut deep, but Damian had no time to respond. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing Yello by the arm and dragging him away as quickly as he could manage. Cole still shaking but he tried his best.

At the same time, east vault

The heavy door of the east vault clicked shut, the emergency alarm blaring as red lights flashed in warning. Silla, her face concealed beneath a mask and her voice altered by the modulator, cursed under her breath. She had gotten this far, but now, she was trapped out. She can’t get in/

She yanked at the door handle, hoping to pry it open before it fully locked, but it was too late. The automatic system had engaged, and the vault door sealed itself with a loud, final clunk.

And then, she heard it—a sound that made her blood freeze for a split second.

Footsteps.

Turning around, Silla's heart pounded as she saw him—Rudy Maybank, standing just a few feet away, his gaze locked on her. His face was twisted in a mixture of rage and disbelief, though his confusion was clear. He took off hs jeans jacket. He didn’t recognize her in the costume, her voice distorted by the technology she wore. But the anger in his eyes was undeniable.

"Who the hell are you?" Rudy snarled, his fists clenched. His eyes flicked to the vault door behind her, then back to her, piecing together what was happening. "Doesn’t matter. I can already tell what you’re after. You can’t get the weapon"

Rudy took a step closer, and Silla could feel the air around them shift, as if something primal had been unleashed. She had heard rumors about Rudy—that Chase had singled him out, saying he was gifted in ways most men could never be. Now, she was about to face that power firsthand. “I was stupid in our previous encounter but I found my strength, now!”

His expression darkened as he channeled that energy, the same Conqueror Spirit that only the Triumvirate was rumored to possess. "I’m not like the others," Rudy said through gritted teeth. "Chase said I had it. The gift. And I won’t let you take this from me."

Silla’s pulse quickened, but she held her ground. Underneath her costume, she gripped the old sword she had taken from The Harpoon, its blade worn but reliable. She had fought men like Rudy before—strong, arrogant, convinced of their superiority. But something about this fight felt different. He wasn’t just another adversary; this was personal.

"I don’t like using weapons," she said, her voice distorted by the modulator but still carrying her determination. She raised the sword, pointing it toward him. "But you’ve always been the hardest enemy."

In a heartbeat, their energies collided.

Silla released her own Conqueror Spirit, the raw power erupting from her in a violent wave that matched Rudy’s. The two forces crashed against each other like a storm meeting the shore. The air between them rippled with intensity, and the sheer pressure of their combined spirits sent a shockwave throughout the vault.

Lucas, standing guard at a distance, felt it. Even though he was far from the center of the clash, the force was unmistakable—something far beyond the ordinary. He braced himself, standing firm against the invisible blast, but the impact rattled his bones.

Silla and Rudy’s spirits clashed like titans. The sheer weight of their wills hung in the air, suffocating, electric. Silla gripped the sword tightly, and in an instant, she charged forward, meeting Rudy’s blade with hers.

CLANG!

The sound of metal on metal reverberated through the room as their swords collided. The sheer force behind Rudy’s strikes was enough to send shockwaves through Silla’s arms, but she held steady, pushing back against him with everything she had. Their eyes met, locked in the heat of battle, though Rudy still couldn’t see her true identity behind the mask.

“WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

Both Bianca and Cole screaming. “No!” Silla and Rudy both realize their dear friends need help. Both of them look at each other. “Other time!” Silla then kicked Rudy’s balls while he was distracted and run! Lucas ran after her!

The simultaneous screams of Bianca and Cole almost sounded like a weird choir of tormented souls. Cole had smashed his iron ball directly on Bianca's left breast, but his satisfied smile vanished from his face immediately as he felt a devastating impact between his legs - Bianca had brought her foot up right at the very moment Cole aimed at her. Cole's scream, and her own, resonated in Bianca's ears. "My breast ... my beautiful breast ... you asshole!", she groaned. "But ... we will see who's knocked out for a longer time ..." Both she and the Admiral tried to fight the pain, but obviously, it was more difficult for Cole. He gasped, and covered his bulge in pain. Bianca's breast hurt terribly, but she wasn't incapacitated. "Guess that's another proof men are inferior! The weaker sex!", she taunted the writhing Admiral. Then she spotted his iron ball on the ground - her kick had been hard enough to let Cole drop his weapon! Bianca snatched it, breathing heavily. "Time to put an end to this!", she hissed. She knew exactly where she wanted to hit the defenseless man, but frowned when she saw he was protecting his crotch. "A gentleman doesn't touch himself like this in the presence of a lady!", she told him, took some sand from the ground, and threw it in Cole's face. "Argh!", he yelped, and his hands flew to his face to protect his eyes. Bianca raised the iron ball. In the same second, she saw Silla approaching, followed by Lucas in some distance. "This one's for you, Silla", she mumbled, and smashed the weapon between Cole's legs with all the power she could muster. "HOOOOAAAAAAARGHHH!" Cole produced a sound like a dying wild animal. Bianca scrutinized his facial expression curiously. "That's how a man's face looks when his balls get mushed to paste", she thought. "I want more of this!"

Cole crumpled to the ground, the agony in his face clear as he clutched at his groin. His once proud, commanding presence was shattered in an instant. Blood seeped through his jeans, staining the fabric as his body shook with shock and pain.

"I’m a man... I’m an admiral..." Cole gasped, his voice weak, barely a whisper. His eyes were wide with disbelief, his hands trembling as they hovered over the devastation. "Why...?"

Bianca crouched beside him, her voice a low, mocking whisper. "I think you’ll live," she said, her breath hot against his ear, "but remember us. We’ll visit you... in your nightmares. Every day." She leaned in closer, her words cutting through him like a blade. "To remind you, Cole, that you're no longer a man. You’ve lost what makes you a man. And that—" she grinned darkly, her eyes flashing with personal satisfaction, "—that’s for everything you’ve ever put me through."

She laughed then, cold and merciless. The sound echoed in the silence, a sharp contrast to Cole’s labored breathing. She knew what she had done. She didn’t care if it gave him a clue about who she really was. That wasn't the point. The point was to break him, body and soul.

From a distance, Silla watched the brutal scene unfold and smiled, her heart pounding with satisfaction. "One admiral down..." she muttered to herself, then sprinted toward Bianca. "B... you’re a damn legend!" Silla said breathlessly, pulling her into a quick hug. "But we can’t stay. We need to go. We can’t take on Rudy right now!"

Silla wasn’t about to let their victory get stolen by a reckless last stand. They had to move.

Madelyn pulled up in the truck, the engine rumbling beneath her. "I got two big boxes of weapons from this vault. Cole and Damian couldn’t guard shit!" she shouted over the noise. "It’s not much, but I think it’ll be enough. Get in, let’s go! It’s not a total lost on the mission!"

Meanwhile, Lucas and Rudy were hot on their trail. Lucas ran ahead, his feet pounding against the ground. Rudy was right behind him, clutching his groin, his face twisted in pain and anger. "What happened?" Rudy barked, his voice raw. "Come back here, you bitch!" he screamed, but the pain surged through him again, unbearable. He stumbled, gasping as his knees buckled for a second. "ARGHH!" he howled, furious and in agony. "Shit!!!"

"They... castrated Admiral Cole..." Lucas said breathlessly, barely able to process what he had just witnessed. The horror of it made his stomach churn, but there was no time for shock.

Rudy, however, couldn't hide his panic. He ran ahead and dropped to his knees beside Cole, who lay in a pool of his own blood. Rudy’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes moved down to Cole’s groin—ruined, bloodied, and beyond repair. Cole’s testicles were destroyed, the blood soaking through his jeans like a crimson tide.

"Cole, dude! Wake up!" Rudy shouted, shaking him, his voice breaking. "Wake up, man!"

Cole groaned weakly, his body twitching in pain. His eyes fluttered open briefly, and the faintest of words escaped his lips. "They... they took everything."

Rudy’s heart pounded, the anger boiling inside him. His eyes snapped toward the figures in the distance—Two sisters, running toward the trucks.

Lucas, standing nearby, saw the two women making their escape. His blood boiled with rage. "YOU CAN’T RUN AWAY! WE’RE THE WATCHDOGS! YOU WILL PAY!" he screamed, the fury in his voice shaking the very air around him.

In that moment, something shifted inside Lucas. The energy that had been bubbling beneath the surface, dormant, now erupted in a sudden, uncontrollable surge. A raw wave of power shot out from him, his Conqueror Spirit bursting forth for the first time. The sheer force of it was wild, unrefined—but it was powerful.

Damian, hiding in the bushes nearby, watched in stunned silence. His jaw dropped. "Lucas... has the Conqueror Spirit!" he whispered in disbelief.

The force of Lucas’s spirit was enough to make Silla and Bianca stumble. They hit the ground hard, the overwhelming energy pressing them down. But they couldn’t afford to stay down long. The power was strong, but Lucas didn’t yet know how to control it.

Rudy, meanwhile, had finally regained his footing. His eyes burned with hatred, and like a beast unleashed, he charged forward with a roar. "YOU WILL PAY!" His voice was filled with a feral rage as he leaped toward Bianca, his hands reaching out like claws. His agility is the best among the watchdog.

With a wild motion, Rudy grabbed Bianca and tore off her mask. His face twisted with satisfaction. "Let’s see who you are, fucking bitch!" he spat, his fists raining down on her. He punched her over and over, the hatred pouring out of him with every blow.

Then, suddenly, his hand stopped mid-air. His eyes widened in shock.

"Shit... you’re—" He stared at her in disbelief. "Gabriel’s slave... Bianca!" The realization hit him like a sledgehammer. He had never imagined that the fearless rebel who had tormented the Watchdogs was one of Gabriel’s own slave.

But before Rudy could react, Silla was already moving. She had recovered quickly from Lucas’s surge of spirit, and with a swift, precise kick, she struck Rudy hard between the legs.

"AAAAAAA!" Rudy’s scream was primal, his body collapsing as he clutched his groin. The pain was instant, searing, and he fell to his knees, gasping for breath. "COME BACK HERE, YOU BITCH!" he screamed after them, but his voice was hoarse, weakened.

Silla didn’t wait. She grabbed Bianca, pulling her to her feet. Together, they ran, not daring to look back as Rudy's curses echoed behind them.

They reached Madelyn’s truck just as she threw down a smoke bomb, covering their escape in a cloud of thick, blinding fog. The truck roared to life, and with a screech of tires, they disappeared into the darkness, leaving the bloodied, broken Watchdogs behind.