There were old, unbreakable rules in the Patchwork City, and some of them had to do with regime changes. Rules old enough that most didn’t remember how they went.
The city had settled into a calm, the eye of a hurricane with the air crackling. It had been a long time since one of the Bosses had been killed. Longer still since one had gone missing. After a few days, both sides realized they didn’t know what to do.
Chad was sitting at a lunch table. His knuckles itched. He stood up.
“We’re gonna find the Rulebook,” he said flatly.