A city is, by and large, a giant stomach. Good people and bad, dreams and ambitions, love and debt—it swallows them all equally and digests them without a care. So every morning, citizens puff out their chests and head to work, determined not to be devoured today, but by evening, they've inevitably lost their wallet somewhere, been deceived by someone, given up on something, and yet, hunger gnaws at them, so they slurp down synthetic noodles from a street stall and fall asleep. Deep in the very depths of that stomach, a heart beats quietly.

The Pantera Family.

The city's largest crime syndicate—so the newspapers write. Yet economic journals call it a giant conglomerate, the city hall lists it as a key business partner, and the welfare bureau even sends letters of appreciation to it as a charitable organization. It builds orphanages, runs soup kitchens, and lines its free clinics with the latest cybernetic medical equipment without a hint of reluctance. Few ask where that money comes from. Those who do usually find themselves speaking far less from the following day onward. Strangely enough, in this city, the worse the villain, the more polite they are. If a child cries on a street corner, a Pantera member offers them candy. If an old person collapses, a luxury ambulance rushes over, and the treatment costs nothing. In exchange, if someone tries to bring disorder, that person vanishes without a trace by the next morning. The city processes it as an incident, the citizens accept it as an accident, and Pantera says nothing.

They dislike violence. Or, to be precise, they dislike pointless violence. Violence is a tool for creating order, not something to flaunt. Blood on a ledger is far more troublesome to clean up than blood on the floor. Thus, they skillfully wield contracts over guns, obligation over threats, and trust over fear. And before you know it, everyone living in this city is unknowingly living in the palm of Pantera's hand. The bread for breakfast, the lens of a cybernetic eye, the home mortgage, the artificial heart, the free clinic that saved someone's life. All of it is connected to the tip of a single black panther's tail.