Reader discretion is advised, this chapter contains very graphic violence. Have a good read.

Don't fuck with The Boss

The Pit

Sett pushed his way through the crowd up to his throne atop the arena. It didn't stand there out of an objective function, it stood there as a statement. He was The Boss, and he was above all of them even while he sat down. There was no weakness in the Pit, as weakness meant maim or death. And he only dealt it, never received. From his first day in the Pit to now.

As he sat down, the pit officer waved the scarf, and the fight began. Today was a comparatively calm day, only a few newcomers fighting for a chance to become one of Sett's regulars. He didn't see any of them fit to climb the ranks, but he has been surprised before. Unless they fought him, their demise wasn't inevitable. He watched their fights closely and while they moved slower and weren't as explosive as some veterans, they gave a good show to the crowd. And that was all that mattered, bringing money to his pockets. Only one of them caught his attention. A tattooed human, most likely from Noxus. He fought savage, not with any refined style. He gave the impression of a man who had fought for his life once and never stopped since, something Sett, at least in an abstract way, could understand.

Hours, as the last man had been struck down, Sett rose from his throne and left the Pit, signaling the end of the night. Today he wasn't going to visit his mother, he had some things to take care of. Someone had been bothering him and his men the last few weeks, stealing from him and spreading rumors about unfair practices in his Pit. If anything, the Pit was fairer then before, but those who lost their bets always tried to find blame in something else than themselves, so enough folk believed the lies. They had to be reminded of his place in society, and theirs.

His bouncers had carefully searched for any links to his known enemies and finally caught one of their agents red-handed. They had transported him to a warehouse in the outskirts of the city, for what was happening to him was not for spying eyes. His men would have tortured him enough to get all information out of him by now, but Sett would deal the finishing blow himself.

As soon as he entered the warehouse where the agent had been taken to, he smelled treachery. It was too quiet. His men were known to be boastful meatheads that made their presence known to everyone around them, as they were members of his gang. But now, in this warehouse, no sound was heard. "Get out, you bastards! I know you're hidin' in here!", he shouted and slammed the door shut behind him. "Whatever you idiots did, it's the last damn thing you did! Where are my men?"

Three men walked out of the shadows in the far back of the hall, too calm to be ordinary mercenaries. "Your men are dead, Sett, just as you will be soon enough.", their leader said with an overconfident grin. "This ain't the Pit, we'll fight to our rules!" All three of them pulled hextech cannons from their holsters, but Sett just laughed. "Mate, this whole fuckin' city is the Pit! That circle of sand is the only place with rules!"

Sett started to sprint towards his enemies with speed that seemed unnatural for a man his size. But the assassins seemed to be prepared as they reacted in an instant. They all shot their weapons, but only one hit Sett, who had dashed to the side to avoid them. Blood splattered across the floor, but he didn't stop. He closed the remaining distance with a few steps and hammered his fist into the face of the closest man. With a wet crack his nose broke, and the brutal force of Setts punch send him flying back. Sett knew without doubt that he killed the man, as his neck had probably snapped either through the punch or his skull cracked through hitting the floor with such force.

The other two had unsheathed their swords, nasty bowed blades with serrated edges. Those were created to maim and kill in the most painful way possible, unlike the normal straight edged blades that were used by most combatants in Runeterra. "I recognize those blades.", Sett said with a smile. "There are only three regions degenerate enough to use them. And since you're neither pirates nor chem-punks you must be Noxian assassins. Ain't your High Command happy to see violence flourish in Ionia?", he asked with burning sarcasm. "You got guts to show up here, gotta admit that. Guts, but no brain. You'll die just like your mate there and your corpses will be send back to the idiot who hired you."

"You understand nothing, half-breed scum!", the leader snarled and slowly walked closer to Sett, his underling slightly to the left behind him. "You've killed the Noxian we installed to run this place. That alone should be enough to behead you and throw your corps in some month-old latrine, but you were useful for a while. But now we're going to take this "city" back, if you want or not."

Sett shook his head in disbelief. "You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me. You assholes have no fuckin' clue how to run this place and if I was gone, who do you think will keep this scum back, eh? Mate, I'm judge, jury and hangman here. I am the law, and no idiotic Noxian could ever get the respect that I got." He held up his fists and smiled. "I bashed my law into the thick heads of this scum and ain't no one gonna fuckin' reverse that. If they find out Noxus hired some hitman to take me out ya'll will be dead before noon. Fuckin' idiots." He spat on the ground and waited for their charge. He knew that they'd come, Noxians took honor way to serious.

"Shut up, scum!", the leader screamed and ran straight ahead. He had his blade at hip height, aiming at Setts gut, but what would that help against a jab straight in the face? He would never find out as Sett's fist was too fast for his brain to process. As soon as he was closer than two steps, he was dead, that was Sett's inescapable death-reach. The other assassin was more careful, but with only one guy remaining Sett didn't care about any defense anymore. While the leader was still falling, he leapt over the corpse and landed right in front of the last one. "Good night, mate.", he said and gripped his head. The assassin tried to stab him, but his knife was only half-way between him and Sett before his head was twisted around hundred-eighty degrees.

"Fuckin' Noxian idiots!", Sett ranted while he began to search the warehouse for his men. He found them tortured, maimed and most importantly dead in one of the old offices. "I'll fuckin' kill whichever bastard is responsible for this.", he swore himself and emerged back out of the building.

Some passers-by had heard the fight and tried to catch a glimpse of the action, but as soon as they realized that it was Sett who had fought, they immediately scattered. Being seen either by or with him meant trouble, the deadly kind. Something most people were afraid of. Idiotic double standards, according to Sett. They were baying for blood when they watched the fights in the Pit, but if their own hide was on the line, they hid in the darkest corner they could find. Pathetic.

"Yo, Sett. What's up?", Darian, his second in command, greeted him as he returned to what people called "The Den of the Devil". It was his headquarters, a sprawling complex of shacks, houses and tents. "Noxus has sent its regards.", he answered and slammed one of the blades four inches deep into Darian's table. "The warehouse on the outskirts, the one the guys were supposed to hold the informant. Trap, three assassins. Killed all my men and tried to get a slice of me, too. I want to know who the fuck dares to run assassin business in my god damn town!" His voice got louder and louder while he spoke, and the last sentence was shouted so loud that the members of Sett's gang outside could hear his words. It was an unmistakable order to find out who dared to challenge The Boss.

"Take care of our dead ones and ship the corpses of the Noxian scum back to them. Let them know they failed and that they pissed me off. What pisses Noxians off the most that we could do to their worthless corpses?"

Darian grinned. "Ya know, Noxians don't care too much about the corpses, they burn them anyway. But that ain't meaning we can't have some fun with 'em. I'll see what the lads come up with and give those cunts a nice lil' present to think about. Leave it to me. And whoever hired them idiots, they'll be sitting on damn hot coals in a few hours. Every fuckin' one will be either looking for them or trying to never have known 'em. Ya know your rep here will make sure of that, Boss." Sett looked down to Darian and the expression on his face gave Darian chills. He knew his boss was brutal and ruthless, but sometimes he forgot just how brutal and ruthless Sett could be. When he truly turned from being Sett to being The Boss … Darian had seen atrocities of unspeakable violence. He had dealt his fair share of death and destruction, but even he got sick when The Boss was in action.

"Make sure that those not rememberin' do. Don't want any of 'em bastards to get away with that shit. Anyone who helped them is fair game to have some fun with.", Sett said and walked to the back of the room, down a flight of stairs to his underground palace. Some said it was stupid of him to not display his power with some stupid gargantuan mansion on some idiotic hill, but he knew that would be terrible to defend. He didn't become the Boss to waste his power and get killed 'cause he presented himself on a fuckin' silver platter. No, his underground palace was secure and had multiple ways to escape if necessary. And no one who wasn't supposed to go there went there, his guards made sure of that.

He nodded to them as he passed them. All of them were hardened warriors, some recruited from the Pit, others were mercenaries who he had bought and still paid. But none of them would dare to betray him, or even think of it. He gave them a good life, with comrades, women and violence. He let them live their primal instincts, only few things were not allowed.

"Hey Boss, when are we goin' to kick some Noxian ass?", one of them joked when he passed him. "Soon, mate. Keep that blade sharp.", he answered and gave his guard a savage grin. His pointed teeth gave them shudders, as they had seen what could be done with them. Yet they smiled back, their violent nature yearning for a bloody fight.

Sett entered the innermost refugium of his palace, a place of refined taste, always kept clean by those working for him. They did a good job, he had to admit. Even though their motivation was greed, fear or both, it didn't matter to him. They were carefully decided upon so none of them would poison him or try to slit his throat in his sleep. He threw himself down on divan of blood red silk and looked up to the ceiling that was decorated with paintings of Ionia's landscapes. The Vastayan within him loved the artistry, while the human was bored by it. It was part of his being, an eternal discrepancy of his soul, but at the same time just the memory of a long-gone life. He didn't remember the days at his mothers Vastayan tribe much, but the time with the humans was vivid in his memories, and full of hate. They had laid the groundwork for The Boss, yet he could never thank them for it.

Sett opened a bottle of strong rum from Bilgewater and opened it with a pop. There was not much better than getting blind drunk after a good fight. While he made sure he would pass out this night he also bandaged he gun-shot wound in his arm. He had lost a considerable amount of blood, but not so much that a good night's sleep wouldn't fix that. He emptied the rest of the bottle in one go after he was finished and the opened the next one. Slowly, his vision began to blur. This would take a while.

"Ey, Boss!", a voice boomed through the palace. "What is it?", Sett answered, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the last night's rum. "Got some news about the Noxians!", his second-in-command answered from outside of his chambers and Sett groaned. "Coming."

A minute later he stepped out of the large wooden door that kept everyone out of his chambers and looked at Darian. "Where's the scum hiding, and who helped them?", he asked with barely suppressed aggression. He had a slight headache and was in an especially foul mood. "Don't think there's any Noxian in the city anymore who is with them, but we found a smuggler who knew how they got into the city. Said he had 'seen' them come in, but the lads tickled the truth out of him. They paid him and used his ship and route. Ya wanna have a word with him? He's in the Den, back at the butcher."

Sett grinned. The butcher was as legendary a place as any here at the Den, but it was his favorite. Of course, it was no butcher, it was what some people called and interrogation chamber and others a torture chamber. Sett knew that both were right, but today it would fulfill yet another purpose. "Yea, take me there. I'd like to have a word with him.", he said, dire promise in his voice. Darian looked at him and shook his head. "You'll have to excuse the lads, then. You know the least of them can take that."

Sett shrugged and kept walking. "They've seen worse, I'm sure of that. But whatever, if they don't want to watch I ain't gonna force 'em. They'll hear enough." A dark chuckled followed, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

They entered the house that was known as the butcher a few minutes later. The outside wasn't telling of the business that was usually conducted within its walls. It had a plain gray appearance, just one in a row of other gray houses. But as soon as you entered through the creaking wooden door the smell of blood and gore was almost overwhelming. Three doors were located at the right-hand side of a small corridor, all spaced apart three meters. The first two were currently closed, but the last one was open and the two could hear the guards inside throwing jokes at each other. "What do you think, how long will he make it?", asked one of them just as Sett entered the room.

"Not more than ten minutes, if I'm taking it slow.", he answered and both guards sprang to attention. "Hey, boss. Didn't hear you come in.", the guard who had spoken earlier said and looked at Sett, wary. It was common knowledge that Sett wasn't fond of people not taking their job seriously and enough men had died by his hands to make other regret such a mistake.

"Clearly not.", Sett and looked him in the eyes. Unfiltered rage and bloodlust burned within them, and the guard shrank down, full of fear. "Get out! And be fuckin' glad that this bastard is here to take my anger out on, or you'd have lost your fuckin' head here and now." The guard nodded and hurried out, followed by his companion. "Wasted money on those, u suppose.", Darian said and shook his head. "Don't worry, didn't say he'd keep his head for long.", Sett said with an evil grin before he turned to the smuggler that was tied to the wall in front of him.

He had already been tortured. His face was read, one eye black and swollen. It looked like at least one arm was broken several times and his fingers were bent in unnatural angles. There were several deep cuts on his torse and legs as well as a giant bruise on his right thigh where a sledgehammer had been used. Only a strong drug was keeping him conscious, yet it didn't numb his pain. He was moaning in terror as Sett lowered his face to look him in the eyes. "So, you're the bastard that let the Noxian scum in, eh?", he asked.

"Y-y-yes, Sett.", the man stuttered and tried to get away from Sett, but the shackles around his wrists and ankles kept him from moving more than a few inches. "Fuckin' idiot. You thought they'd kill me? How can a man be so stupid?", he asked and slammed his fist on the man's thigh. He yelped in pain, but the drug in his blood kept him from falling unconscious. "What did they give ya?", Sett asked and slammed his fist into the broken arm. Another scream from the smuggler, then whimpering. "Th-they promised me riches to escape this hell.", the smuggler answered, and Sett's eyes widened. "You must be fuckin' retarded! Riches, from goddamn Noxians? Ya would've gotten a good sum from me for telling me of their plot, and probably some good customers, too!" Sett snarled and pushed his clawed fingers deep into a cut on the side of the man's belly. "Ya would have risen here, gotten a good life. But you threw it away for some Noxian promise!", the man screamed in agony, but Sett didn't stop his monologue. Instead, he grabbed one of the man's fingers and ripped it clean off. Blood poured down the hand and arm and slowly dripped down on the ground. "You'll make a good statement for others. Never fuck with The Boss. '. . ." Every word was followed by Sett ripping of a finger of the other and with the last word he dug his claws into the smugglers neck and ripped his throat out.

After a few death spasms the body of the smuggler stopped moving and hang down from the shackles in the wall. Sett looked at the torn-out throat and dropped it at the feet of the corpse. "Darian, hang this shit-bag up at the outer wall of the Den, nice and visible. With fingers 'n all. I don't want anyone not to see him. And tomorrow, organize a brutal spectacle in the Pit. And find me a fuckin' challenger, to0. I'll go in myself. Couldn't take my time with this one." Darian nodded and stepped out of the room to get away from Sett. He knew the murderous mood he was in all too well, he had almost lost his live to that once. A shudder ran down his back when he thought back to that day. He didn't remember everything, but he carried scars of it on his chest to this day. Sett had killed a score of men then and had burst out into the heights of the criminal underworld. Some regarded that day as the birth of The Boss, and only few knew that it was just the first time The Boss had been let loose for real.

He hurried away and back to the building that he considered his office. He better found a damn good fight for Sett if he didn't want his boss to just kill him because he was in the mood for it.