Wilder followed the sexy lady boss into a secret passage. After several twists and turns, the sounds from outside could no longer be heard.
"This must be underground," Wilder said probingly from behind.
"Mm-hmm." The sexy lady boss nodded without turning her head. "I live alone, and it's not very safe, so I had this underground passage built."
The passage was quiet. After she said this, neither of them spoke again until they stopped before the door of a certain room.
"This is where I live." Opening the door, they entered one after the other.
It was a one-bedroom, one-living room dwelling, simply furnished but impeccably clean. There was a sofa in the living room. The two sat down facing each other. The sexy lady boss looked at Wilder, momentarily unsure what to say.
"You don't need to feel constrained. I was the one who sought you out first, wasn't I?" Seeing her unease, Wilder offered a very "understanding" smile. He stared at her for a good while before continuing, "Aren't you going to introduce yourself?"
"Dana," the sexy lady boss said, giving Wilder a look that was both helpless and uniquely alluring.
This man gave her a very dangerous feeling. So, even if she had some backing, she didn't dare use it—not just because of his Warlord status, but more so because he himself made her feel as if she had needles on her back.
Initially, Dana hadn't recognized Wilder. It was only when she was walking through the passage and gradually calmed down that she remembered, breaking out in a cold sweat. She somewhat regretted why she had idly provoked this man, yet now, a complex mix of emotions churned within her.
If… if this man could be her backer… As Dana thought about it, her face couldn't help but flush slightly, a stirring of interest in her heart.
"You seem to already know my purpose?" Wilder said, looking at her.
Wilder's voice jolted Dana from her thoughts. A flash of panic crossed her eyes, but she quickly regained her composure, smiling faintly at Wilder, her posture exuding a sexy allure.
"I have some guesses." Her demeanor was even more coquettish and captivating than before.
"You know me?"
"Mm, I just found out," Dana wouldn't lie about such things; it was pointless.
Wilder nodded. Dana's subtle movements were crystal clear to him. His gaze was intense. "You really do need a husband."
"Then… are you willing to be my husband?" Dana was a picture of seduction, her body leaning slightly forward, drawing closer to Wilder. Her clothes were loose, and a strap slipped from her delicate, fair shoulder—a truly nosebleed-inducing scene.
The atmosphere unknowingly shifted. Only Dana's nervous heartbeat could be heard in the room.
Wilder remained expressionless from beginning to end. His eyes were drawn to the fallen shoulder strap for a second, and lingered a moment longer… on the soft curve visible through the deep, alluring neckline.
"You're very smart." Wilder suddenly reached out and cupped Dana's face. He stood up, leaned down, and looked into Dana's eyes, their faces less than three centimeters apart, close enough to feel each other's breath.
He looked at Dana quietly for a long time, until her breathing grew increasingly rapid, her heart almost leaping from her chest. Then, Wilder suddenly released her and sat back down on the sofa.
Lighting a cigarette, Wilder's steady voice slowly said, "Besides the restaurant, your father also left you a recruitment point, didn't he?"
Without waiting for Dana to respond, Wilder continued.
"Are you willing to work for me?"
Dana's heart trembled upon hearing this.
Her eyes naturally held a coquettish charm, but now, because of Wilder's words, they widened, making her look surprisingly cute.
Wait…! Calm down! I need to calm down!First, sort out what he means.
Dana forced herself to calm down, though her mind was already a tangled mess. What did this man say? Although she had guessed from the beginning and had harbored such hopes, hearing Wilder say it himself still made her feel as if she were dreaming.
How many years had it been? Since her father passed away and she began to shoulder everything alone, how many years had passed? Every day was filled with worry, every day felt like walking on thin ice, terrified of falling into a bottomless ice chasm with one misstep. Every day, she worried about being killed by greedy eyes from all directions, never relaxing for a moment, every nerve stretched taut at all times. For countless days and nights, she had longed for someone to save her…
Dana's mind was in turmoil. She didn't know what Wilder meant, or rather, she probably knew in her heart but was afraid it was just wishful thinking.
Are you willing to work for me? What did that sentence mean? Was he planning to… take everything for himself? Or…
Dana looked up at Wilder, her voice trembling slightly. "S-so?"
The so-called recruitment point was actually an underground trading post. It didn't trade in goods, but in intelligence. Its clientele covered almost everyone: pirates, bounty hunters, merchants, and so on.
Its existence was usually linked to another type of trading post—a true marketplace for transactions like bounties, intelligence, and more. Such places were generally called black markets, but not the kind that sold goods, rather, a task-based black market. One could find all sorts of missions to undertake there, with handsome rewards upon completion. Most of these missions were assassinations.
Dana's family's recruitment point specialized in intelligence gathering. People sold her information, and she, in turn, sold it to the black market. After all, everyone has their specialty. The black market dealt in a variety of things, and its own intelligence often wasn't sufficient.
The recruitment point was an enterprise her father had left her. Since she took over, it had been in steady decline. She was just a woman. While her father was alive, people were wary. But since his passing, those greedy gazes had fixed upon her without disguise. Her informants dwindled, not because they died… but because they were poached. The intelligence network her father had built over many years was on the verge of collapse. She was unwilling to accept it, but her weakness denied her even the right to be unwilling.
"Gather intelligence for me. Become my person," Wilder said, his gaze like a torch as he stared at her.
If one wanted to deeply understand or even make contact with the underworld, intelligence was of paramount importance. Although Dana's intelligence network was merely a superficial layer of the entire underworld, it had room for growth. And, for the current moment, it was sufficient.
Wilder's idea was simple: if he wanted to understand the underworld, the best way was to become a part of it. This was the best method to obtain information and understand its workings. Dana's recruitment point, at this stage, was merely enough to serve as a springboard for him—a springboard into the underworld.
Next, he would have to personally join in. Wilder had already thought it through before coming: he would obtain access to the underground trading posts through Dana and become one of them. The professions of those who took on missions were diverse, but the main groups were bounty hunters, assassins, and the like.
After much thought, Wilder decided to enter the underworld as an assassin. Those on an assassin's kill list, the targets, inevitably had reasons for being targeted. This would be his channel to understand the underworld. The entire process would be his experience in delving deeper into it.
Dana stared blankly at Wilder, tears unknowingly welling up in her eyes. "I am willing!" she blurted out without the slightest hesitation. She had waited for this day for too long, so long that she had forgotten what belief had initially sustained her. It seemed it was to make the family business her father left behind bigger and better… yes, that seemed to be it…
Overcome with emotion, Dana forgot herself. Looking at Wilder's face, she unconsciously leaned down, wrapped her arms around his neck, and entwined herself around him, kissing him deeply.
Holy hell!
Wilder didn't know why that word popped into his mind, but looking at Dana clinging to him like an octopus, he was momentarily stunned. A Devil Fruit user?Like some kind of mollusk… or did she just make her body soft?Paramecia?Or Zoan?
None of that mattered. What mattered was that Wilder felt very annoyed. This woman… was she trying to ascend to heaven? "Mmph…!" Dana frowned in pain, then felt her body suddenly flipped over. A strong physique pressed down on her, a fiery breath washing over her face, almost making it hard for her to breathe.
After an indescribable battle… It was probably about two hours…
Wilder lit a cigar and walked out of the room.
Wilder had never denied the fact that he was a man. Therefore, on certain matters, there were inevitably times when he couldn't restrain himself. So, after calming down, Wilder couldn't help but frown.
*"Still not composed enough. That woman…" *Thinking back now, Wilder naturally understood Dana's little ploy. The saying "a couple for a day means a hundred days of affection" sometimes did contain a bit of scientific basis. Dana was probably banking on that kind of idea.
"Heh…" Wilder couldn't help but grin at this thought. He actually didn't mind such little schemes, because they posed no harm to him, and might even offer some benefits. Besides, that woman was like fine wine—a lingering aftertaste, full of flavor.
With a hint of that lingering taste, Wilder walked out of the restaurant with steady steps.
He had learned from Dana that there was an underground trading post in the eastern suburbs of this island. After leaving, Wilder headed straight for the eastern suburbs. It was different from what he had imagined. The eastern suburbs were very prosperous, the streets lined with closely packed shops, hardly any empty space visible.
After confirming the location, Wilder walked into a deserted alley. He observed his surroundings and, seeing no one paying attention, released his black cloak and mask from his swamp. The black cloak was the same as before, but the mask was different. Wilder had many different masks, precisely for unforeseen needs.
After putting on the black cloak and a red demon mask, Wilder walked out of the alley and headed straight for a flour shop to his front left, which had sacks of flour displayed at its entrance.
"Hello, what can I get for you?" The shop assistant was an old man with a deeply wrinkled face. Sensing someone enter, he looked up and spoke. But the moment his eyes landed on Wilder's attire, they narrowed slightly, then quickly returned to normal.
"Do you have any flour that isn't black?" a hoarse voice sounded from beneath the mask.
"Yes." The old man's eyes narrowed again. He responded and, with a hunched back, stood up, every movement appearing difficult.
"Flour can be black?" Another customer in the shop, hearing this, looked curiously at Wilder and the old man.
Wilder turned his head slightly to look at him. The customer instantly felt a chill run through his body. Looking at the demon-like mask, he felt an inexplicable panic, as if beneath the mask, its owner's eyes were about to devour him. The customer fled in disarray, abandoning the items he had already selected.
"You made me lose a sale," the old man said, frowning and glancing at Wilder with dissatisfaction.
"I'm here to bring you business. Believe me, flour doesn't make much money," Wilder replied nonchalantly.
The old man seemed accustomed to this. He turned his back to Wilder and beckoned. "Follow me."
In a pitch-black passage, Wilder walked behind, the old man in front. The old man's legs and feet seemed remarkably agile, belying his earlier appearance outside. As he walked, he spoke without turning around, "You're new, aren't you?"
"Yes," Wilder replied in an extremely calm tone, though he was somewhat surprised internally.
The old man didn't seem like someone who could keep his mouth shut. He continued, "Feeling surprised, are you? Wondering how I could tell you were a newbie at a glance?"
Just as Wilder was about to speak, the old man suddenly put one hand on his hip, pointed upwards with the other, and burst into a smug laugh. "Hahahahaha! Of course! Only newbies come in through the front door!! I've seen plenty of your kind! Hahahaha!"
Wilder said nothing. The old man, seeing no one playing along, probably felt it was uninteresting. He let out a few trailing "haha's," trying to make the topic not end too abruptly.
The passage then became quiet. Wilder, walking behind, watched the old man scratching his head and fidgeting, restless the entire way.
"What do you do?" The old man finally couldn't hold back any longer and started another topic.
"Kill people."
"An assassin, huh…" The old man turned to stare at Wilder for a moment, then suddenly turned back and continued walking. "Your physique is a bit of a waste for an assassin."
Wilder didn't intend to reply, and the old man didn't expect him to. He stopped in front of an iron door and turned back to Wilder. "This is it. Inside, missions are freely available, choose as you like. You need to pay an entry fee when you go in."
"Thanks," Wilder said coolly, taking a small wad of Beli from his robe and stuffing it into the old man's hand.
"Alright, giving it to me is the same. Take this." The old man, thinking Wilder was giving him the entry fee, took out a notebook from his coat, scribbled something on one of the pages, tore it out, and handed it to him.
Wilder said nothing more. Only after the old man had walked far away did he push open the door and enter.
"Hit him! Beat him to death! Hahaha! Twist his head off! Yes! Just like that!" "Bastard! Fight back already! I bet eight million Beli on you!"
The moment he stepped inside, a cacophony of noise immediately assaulted his ears. Wilder turned his gaze towards the source of the sound. A huge iron cage came into view.