He explained it then: the contracts were already activating. Every name on that list would now die by suicide, accident, or madness before dawn—unless one of them made a new deal. One soul, freely given, to cancel the rest.
Nina got the call: bloodbath at the docks. By the time she arrived, Vico was standing over Dario’s body, weeping—not for the traitor, but for the contracts, now scattered in the wind. Nina drew her gun. Vico raised empty hands. gangster the cop the devil
Mr. Morning tilted his head. “You’d go to hell for strangers? You, the gangster?” He explained it then: the contracts were already activating