Gideon moved. No one saw him cross the distance. One moment he was standing still, the next his fist crashed into Grant’s face.

The old man hit the ground hard before Gideon grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into the center of the construction site.

"Enough!" His voice cut through the chaos, sharp and loud.

But no one listened.

Gideon didn’t hesitate. He slammed Grant down again and drove his foot into the man’s groin, forcing a broken gasp out of him.

"Call them off," Gideon said coldly. "Or I’ll turn this entire place into a graveyard."

The killing intent in his eyes made Grant freeze.

"Stop! Stop it, damn it!" Grant choked out, blood spilling from his mouth as he shouted. "All of you, stop!"

Slowly, the workers began to notice. Their boss was on the ground, face bruised and bleeding, completely at Gideon’s mercy.

The fighting died down, but the anger didn’t. It shifted, now it was aimed at Gideon.

"Let him go!" one of them shouted. "You think you can touch him and walk away? We’ll burn this whole place down!"

Gideon let out a quiet scoff. A sword formed in his hand, its edge gleaming as he tilted it slightly.

"Try it," he said, his voice low and steady. "Take one more step and all of your heads will be rolling on the ground before you even realize it."

The men didn’t even dare to move. Maybe it was because Gideon’s level was far above theirs, or maybe it was simply the pressure he gave off, but they all froze where they stood, their faces stiff with fear.

For a brief moment, he wondered what he looked like to them, but that thought didn’t matter right now.

He had two choices, and neither of them were good.

But first, there was something more important.

He looked down at Grant. "Tell your men to apologize," he said bluntly. "Heads down. As low as they can go. If they need to kneel, then they kneel. To my people."

His words shocked everyone, even his own residents.

In Gideon’s mind, those bastards had crossed a line they should have never touched. Bringing up the death of his people’s families like it was some cheap insult... that wasn’t just disrespect, that was disgusting.

Those people didn’t lose everything because they were weak. They were trapped, terrified, and trying to survive with nothing left.

"How dare you run your disgusting mouths about the death of their families," Gideon continued, his voice colder now.

"You think you’re better? You wouldn’t last a day in their place." His eyes swept across them. "You get paid to work here. Don’t act like you’re doing charity."

Then he let out a short, dry chuckle.

"Or what, you want me to treat you the way you clearly see others?" he added, tilting his head slightly.

"Remove all of your payment and right? make all of you my slaves? Easy to build that kind of system in this ’run down trash territory,’ isn’t it?"

There was no humor in his tone.

"E-Everyone, apologize!" Grant stammered.

The construction workers started sweating. They looked at each other, some biting their lips until they bled, but none of them dared to protest. In the end, they bowed their heads.

"We are sorry for what happened."

Their voices came out slow and stiff, pride still choking every word. Behind Gideon, his residents smiled in satisfaction, some of them even standing a little straighter, a bit more cocky, as they should.

Gideon turned to them. "Is that enough?"

One of them stepped forward before anyone else could answer. Alan.

A little older than Gideon, sharp, adaptable, and smart. He used to be a hunter for a traveler group, and it showed in the way he carried himself.

"No," Alan said calmly. "We don’t just need your apology. You prove it." His gaze shifted to the workers. "Work properly. No slacking, no dumping your shit on others... or get out."

Those were the exact two choices Gideon had been thinking about.

Truthfully, this territory still needed them. That was a fact he couldn’t ignore. But letting them off that easily? That wasn’t his style. They didn’t just need a warning. They needed consequences.

’Especially this one.’

Gideon’s jaw tightened as he looked down at Grant, who was still trembling beneath him.

The residents seemed to agree, and the construction workers immediately turned their eyes toward their boss, waiting.

"Just do what they say!" Grant shouted, panic breaking through his voice. "You all got a death wish or what?!"

That was enough. The workers quickly started putting their gear back on, picking up their tools, moving with forced obedience.

Gideon scoffed. "And everything you idiots just wrecked," he added coldly, "comes out of your pay today."

The shock was immediate, written clearly across their faces, but none of them dared to argue. He turned his head slightly toward William. "Today’s work is free."

The disappointment hit even harder this time, but still, no one spoke.

Gideon’s gaze shifted again, his thoughts already moving ahead. This wasn’t over yet. Not until he dealt with Grant properly... and talked to Jade, since she was the one that brought this worker to him in the first place.

***

Gideon continued supervising the work as night settled in, the dim lights from scattered lamps replacing the fading daylight.

The earlier chaos had completely died down, leaving behind a tense silence where no construction worker dared to speak in his presence.

They kept their heads down and focused on their tasks, moving carefully as if even the smallest mistake would draw his attention.

Beside him, William stood with his usual composed posture, though this time there was a faint trace of admiration in his expression.

"Thank you, Chief, for helping me," he said. "I learned a lot from you today."

Gideon glanced at him, mildly curious. "Hm... and what is it?"

"That violence is necessary and talking does nothing."

Gideon blinked, caught off guard, then turned fully toward him with a raised brow. "What? No, that’s not it."

He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "Sometimes force is needed, sure, but we still solved it by talking in the end, didn’t we?"

William adjusted his glasses, his tone as flat as ever. "Yes. A one-sided conversation. I don’t believe that counts as talking. But at least I understand now that reasoning with buffoons won’t work, and being soft only invites people to walk over you."

Gideon fell quiet, considering that. There was some truth in it. His residents hadn’t argued back until now, even when they were clearly being treated unfairly. They had simply endured it, treating everything as part of the learning process.

Meanwhile, the construction workers had grown increasingly arrogant. William himself never lashed out, but his cold tone likely made it seem as if he was looking down on them, which only added fuel to the fire.

Miscommunication, poor handling, and someone deliberately stirring resentment behind the scenes had all built up until it finally exploded.

Delilah was right. He had been too busy dealing with other matters, leaving the territory to run on its own and assuming things would hold together.

Gideon rubbed his chin, his gaze drifting toward the man who had thrown his helmet earlier, the one who had sparked the entire mess. He already had a suspicion, but suspicion alone wasn’t enough. He needed proof.

He tapped William lightly on the shoulder. "Before you use force, you need to read the situation first," he said.

"I can push like that because I’m stronger and the situation has already turned into chaos. Even if they all came at me, I’d still win. That’s not the case for you."

William paused, thinking it through, then murmured, "I see. So I need to make them fear me first before I can control them better."

Gideon stared at him for a moment, genuinely confused. How did he arrive at that conclusion?

"No," he said, more firmly this time. "That’s not the point. Just assess the situation first. Don’t rely on force or fear unless you actually need to."

Leaving it at that, Gideon stepped away and walked toward the worker he had been watching.

The reaction was immediate. The construction workers stiffened and subtly moved aside, avoiding him without even realizing it, while his own residents remained relaxed.

The man had his back turned when Gideon grabbed his shoulder. He flinched hard and spun around, his face pale with fear.

"Y-Yes, my lord? Did I make another mistake?"

Gideon frowned slightly at the title but didn’t dwell on it. "You’re coming with me. I need to ask you something."

The man hesitated, but Gideon didn’t give him time to resist. He dragged him toward a darker, more secluded area near the unfinished framework.

As they passed, a few workers glanced over with sympathy, as if watching someone being led to his execution.

The moment Gideon let go, the man stumbled back and pressed himself against the structure, panic taking over.

"I-I’m sorry if I made a mistake! I’ll fix it right away, I swear! Please don’t kill me!"

Gideon let out a quiet breath, his patience thinning. "Relax. I’m not here to kill you. I just want you to be honest."

The man froze, still trembling, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape that wasn’t there.

"Someone’s been talking ill," Gideon continued, his gaze steady and sharp. "About William or about this place and stirring things up. The workload alone wouldn’t make all of you snap like that."

The man bit his lip, clearly struggling, his silence saying more than words.

Gideon stepped closer and tightened his grip on the man’s shoulder, just enough to make him flinch.

"Be honest with me," he said, his voice low and firm. "I will spare your life if you tell me the truth."

The man’s body shook harder, fear finally breaking through whatever hesitation he had left.

"Th-that’s..."