Copy & Paste Power in Modern World

Gonda closed his eyes for one short second.

One last condition.

At that point, even Merek and Solan could tell from his face that the other side of the call was still making demands instead of requests. They said nothing, but the look in both their eyes was clear enough. Gonda did not speak to anyone like this. He did not let anyone corner the shape of a deal before taking something for himself.

Today he was doing exactly that.

When he opened his eyes again, he forced his voice back under control.

"Say it," he said.

Adam did.

"You will start pulling other gangs toward your side," he said. "Especially the ones that have not already aligned with someone else. I want them brought closer, and I want you finding out who is already tied down before you touch them."

That made Gonda frown.

The demand did not fit the rest of the conversation.

"That was my question too," he said. "A moment ago you were talking about control. Now you’re telling me to reach toward other gangs?"

Adam had expected the confusion.

He leaned into it.

"You are still thinking too small," he said. "You are asking these questions as if my organization is the only one moving into your district."

The words landed hard enough to make Gonda’s hand tighten around the phone.

"What?" he said before he could stop himself.

Merek looked up sharply. Solan did the same. Even without hearing the other side, they understood one thing at once.

The call had just become worse.

Adam lowered his voice even more.

"There are two outside organizations with interest in what is coming," he said. "Ours is one of them."

That silence on Gonda’s side lasted longer this time.

He remembered the old meeting again. The missing gang. The fear at the table. The uncertainty.

Now, for the first time, a shape started forming behind it.

That fear had not belonged to one force at all.

Several hands had already entered the district, and no one local was big enough to see the full board.

Adam continued before Gonda could interrupt.

"We want influence," he said. "Business routes. Access into the economy. That is our purpose. The other side wants more than that. They want to bring their own people in. They want ground, bodies, and control that can be seen."

That made Gonda’s expression harden.

Now he understood why the rumors had felt messy from the start.

Too many stories had not lined up cleanly.

If what Wil was saying was true, then the district was not preparing for one outside hand. It was being squeezed by at least two.

And if that was true, then surviving would no longer be about pride.

It would be about choosing the side that gave the best position before the killing started.

"So you want me to gather the unaligned gangs before they do," Gonda said.

"Exactly," Adam replied.

"And if some of them are already tied to the other side?"

"Then you mark them and leave them alone for now," Adam said. "I want names before movement."

The old man was not speaking like a local thug bluffing his way through a district call. He was speaking like someone arranging lines before a larger operation rolled forward.

Gonda hated how much that thought persuaded him.

Still, he kept listening.

"Pull in the gangs that are still free," Adam said. "Bring them close under your line first. Then you bring them toward us. We will decide how far they come after that."

Gonda’s mind moved quickly.

This changed things.

Before this moment, he had been thinking only about how to use Wil’s organization for money, goods, and advantage while learning where its weakness lay. That was still useful. But if another outside organization had already arrived, then a second possibility opened beside the first.

He did not need to betray Wil immediately.

That would be stupid.

What he needed was time.

Time to take what Wil offered.

Time to quietly search for the other organization.

And if he found them before the coming violence broke open, then he could do what he had always done best.

He could sell information.

If Wil’s side proved stronger, Gonda would already be inside their line.

If the other side looked richer, bloodier, or more secure, then Wil’s information itself could become a price paid in exchange for better terms.

That was not betrayal yet.

That was survival shaped into opportunity.

His face, however, showed none of it.

"And what do I tell these other gangs?" he asked.

Adam answered instantly.

"Tell them an alliance already exists between us. Tell them that staying outside will become expensive. But first find out whether anyone else has already reached them."

Gonda took that in. It was bold, dangerous, and exactly the kind of move that could raise him fast if it worked.

Adam pressed further.

"A gang war is coming," he said. "Not tomorrow, but soon enough that waiting for proof will only make you late. When it starts, we will provide money and weapons where needed. If you are not prepared before that day, you will regret it."

That line made even Merek shift his weight.

Weapons and money were words he did not need fully explained.

Gonda heard them too, but his thoughts were already ahead of the sentence. If Wil was telling the truth, then the district would soon become a market of frightened men looking for shelter under any larger banner that could arm them.

If Gonda moved first, that shelter could still be his.

"Fine," he said at last. "I’ll begin quietly."

Adam did not reward him for agreeing.

Instead, he delivered the last pressure point.

"This information is being given to you because it is useful to us," he said. "Do not mistake that for permission. If you try to use it the wrong way, there are people in this country who act as direct puppets for our organization. They will erase you so completely that even your men will fail to understand when it happened."

The room around Gonda seemed to go silent after that. Not literally, but for one second he heard none of it.

He believed enough for the threat to work.

And that was the part Adam had wanted most.