Yagg had ambition; he dreamed of becoming the richest Gretchin. He also possessed the cunning expected of his kind, capable of acting in front of Pico, switching attitudes in an instant, and burying his hatred deep within. Most importantly, he was familiar with the local rules—he knew how to suck up to the right people and how to climb the ladder.
Crucially, he currently had nothing, yet held a certain level of trust in Raynor. A person with nothing but ambition is the best kind of partner.
Raynor decided to support Yagg, letting him take the spotlight while Raynor remained in the shadows, acting as the mysterious enforcer behind him. This way, they could accumulate resources and prestige without prematurely exposing Itachi's true identity. When the time was right, they would use Yagg's reputation to let the world know that a brand-new Greenskin clan had emerged from a Squig ranch.
He closed his eyes, and his consciousness began to descend. Before he even opened his eyes in the other body, Yagg's voice exploded in his ear:
"Get up! If ya don't get up now, dere's no grub left!"
Raynor opened his eyes to see the scrawny face hovering right in front of him. It was filthy, but held no ill intent.
"C'mon, I'm takin' ya to eat," Yagg grunted, dragging him up from the cardboard floor. "Da canteen's got fresh 'Munchies' today. If we're late, it's all gone."
Raynor followed Yagg outside in a bit of a daze.
The canteen was a shed assembled from scrap metal. The iron sheets were crooked, and the plastic tarps flapped noisily in the wind. Inside, dozens of rickety tables were scattered about. Hundreds of Grots were lining up, clutching "teef" in their hands and staring longingly at the large pot up front.
The contents of the pot were "Munchies," a signature staple food of the Dorido Greenskins. Yagg caught a whiff of the scent, his eyes lighting up as he involuntarily wiped the drool from his mouth.
When it was their turn, Yagg traded one tooth for a large chunk of Munchies. He broke the chunk into three pieces, carefully wrapped two in a tattered rag to tuck into his bosom, and held the remaining piece in his hand.
"One piece a day. Dis lasts for free days," he said with the careful calculation typical of a small-time character.
Raynor looked at the greyish, odd-smelling lump, and his stomach churned. But Yagg was already eating, stuffing it into his mouth in large bites until his face was covered.
Raynor chose not to trade for food. Instead, he went to a general store next to the canteen and pushed his entire net worth—the two teeth earned from shoveling dung—onto the counter.
"Wot ya want?" asked a Grot inside wearing a monocle.
"Paint. Purple."
The Grot widened his eyes at Raynor. Looking at Raynor draped in a tattered cloth, he didn't look like a Mekboy at all. But he didn't ask questions; only a "git" would turn down teef. He fished out a battered jar from the back containing half a pot of murky purple liquid. It was the lowest quality paint, pungent and dull in color.
In the Greenskin world, paint was a vital resource. Red made things go faster, blue brought luck, green was the "waaaagh-iest," and purple made you invisible. Consequently, paint prices were always high; Raynor was satisfied just to get some for two teeth.
Raynor took the jar and tucked it away carefully. Yagg watched from the side, dumbfounded. "Wot ya buyin' paint fer? Ya can't eat dat!"
Raynor smiled but didn't explain. "You'll see when we get back."
As they walked back through the warped scrap buildings, Raynor began probing for information. "Yagg, who calls the shots here in the Muscle Squig sector?"
Yagg's eyes darted around as he realized what Raynor was asking. "Ya lookin' to climb up?"
Raynor didn't deny it. Yagg lowered his voice and began his lecture.
A gang boss couldn't manage such a vast sector alone, so every area had several "officers." The Muscle Squig sector had three officers, each managing two pens. Each officer had hundreds of Grots under them responsible for feeding, shoveling, hauling, and repairing fences. The pen where Yagg worked was managed by a gang officer named "Tiny."
"Da officer for our pen is named Arvin," Yagg said, his voice laced with hatred. "Dat git is da worst. Takes da most teef, does da least work. Every night 'e goes to da pub to get smashed, den 'e comes back cursin' an' brawlin'."
He stopped there, likely because he had felt Arvin's whip himself. Out of pride, he didn't want to admit it to Raynor.
"How many people does he have around him?" Raynor asked.
"Usually a few dozen," Yagg thought for a moment. "Fewer when 'e's drunk. Most of 'em pass out in da pub."
Raynor pondered for a while before saying, "If Arvin were gone, who would replace him?"
Yagg glanced at Raynor, his eyes slowly brightening. As a cunning Grot, he quickly grasped Raynor's meaning.
"Arvin's got two headmen under 'im. Normal-like, it'd be dere turn. But if someone kilt Arvin..." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "An' den gave Tiny a bit of tribute, dat officer job goes to da one who kilt 'im."
In the Greenskin world, the transfer of power wasn't complicated. If you won, their position naturally became yours. Of course, you had to be prepared to face challenges and be dragged down by someone else at any time.
Raynor smiled knowingly. "No time like the present. How about tonight?"
Yagg's legs began to shake. "Just... just da two of us?"
"You scared?"
Yagg swallowed. He wanted to say yes, but looking at Raynor's purple eyes, he forced the words back down. "Not scared! I seen it all!" Although he was trembling, his tone was defiant.
"Don't worry, I have a way to deal with them," Raynor said.
Back at the shelter, Raynor got to work. He took out the jar of purple paint and dyed a piece of tattered cloth he'd found in the trash. Then, drawing from his memory, he tailored the cloth into a wearable garment with a few holes and a piece of rope.
A large-sized "Ninja suit" appeared in his hands. He put it on and tied it tight with the rope.
Yagg watched him, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. The person was clearly standing right there, but if he didn't look closely, he wouldn't notice him at all. The purple figure seemed to blend into the shadows of the shack like a phantom.
"H-h-how'd ya do dat?" Yagg stammered.
Yagg's reaction satisfied Raynor. Making the clothes in a ninja style seemed to have enhanced the invisibility effect. "This is something that was in my head since I was born. I just finally made it," Raynor didn't explain much further. "When the time comes, you're responsible for blocking the way, and I'll handle the fighting."
This time, Yagg finally felt a surge of confidence. "Right!"