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Hunter paced the dimly lit room, Zafron’s voice sharp and deliberate as he laid out the grim reality before them. The Brotherhood was at a crossroads, teetering on the edge of chaos. Jonathan’s web of corruption wasn’t confined to back-alley deals or underground operations; it bled into politics, infecting decision-makers and entire institutions.

“You can’t keep running on the defensive,” Zafron said, his tone clipped as he leaned over the table strewn with documents, maps, and coded dossiers. “You need to hit them where it hurts—Jonathan’s political allies. But tread carefully, Hunter. This isn’t the same as taking out his foot soldiers.”

Hunter stopped pacing, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed Zafron’s words. The idea of targeting politicians aligned with Jonathan was tempting. But the risks were colossal. “If I start exposing politicians, it paints a giant target on my back,” Hunter muttered, his fists clenching at his sides. “Not just mine—everyone involved in this fight.”

Zafron
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