Chapter 290: In This Game, You Need Power, Connections, and Cold Hard Cash
No one knew how the young man managed to tear through space and drag those two Darksteels from an entirely different building. Even more surprising was the revelation that these two had been hiding their true bodies all along, that what everyone had interacted with were just puppets.
Honestly, if Steven hadn't noticed that something was off with the names floating above their heads, he wouldn't have realized the deception at all.
But now that he had their real bodies in front of him, they were bound to reconsider their stance.
A face-to-face talk was inevitable.
The fact that he transformed right in front of them made one thing clear: he wasn't worried about them leaking his secret. Or maybe he was just that confident in his ability to keep things quiet.
As for how that silence would be enforced? The Darksteels and Lazurites that are present had already guessed the answer, and they didn't doubt it in the slightest.
Even so, once the initial shock passed, the two Darksteels recovered quickly.
As heads of a powerful organization and with centuries of experience under their belts, they hadn't exactly seen something like this before, but they knew enough to stay calm when faced with something this dangerous.
Letting go of the massive bow in their hands, the two finally stood before Steven in person.
And just from that brief contact, they abandoned any foolish thoughts of resistance.
This man had just snatched them across multiple buildings like it was nothing, they hadn't even been able to react at all.
Which meant, if Steven wanted them dead, it wouldn't take him more than a blink.
"I like people like you. Smart. Saves me the trouble," Steven said, flashing a playful grin as he sat down again, skirt swishing as he did so. "So, now that things have come this far… don't you think it's time you gave me an answer?"
He had no idea what kind of storm was raging in their heads, nor did he care. He just looked at them with lazy curiosity, clearly amused by how things were unfolding.
"…We'll admit it. Your strength is beyond anything we imagined," one of them finally spoke, his voice low and cautious. "But if strength is all you have, that's not enough to lead a real organization."
Their puppets had collapsed to the ground beside them, lifeless now that they were no longer being controlled.
With their true forms revealed, they could see the unease in each other's eyes, though they tried not to show it.
Still, what they said wasn't wrong.
Running a group like theirs took more than just raw power.
It needed structure, support, and influence.
No matter how strong this young man was, if he couldn't provide that, then following him would only spell ruin for the Armorless Union.
"I get what you're saying," Steven replied casually, showing no sign of frustration at their continued resistance. Instead, he simply snapped his fingers, as if to say, I hear you loud and clear.
"When you're in this line of work—especially if you want to be the boss—there are three things that matter."
He raised one finger.
"First, strength. I've already proven that." He pointed at himself, and no one in the room dared to disagree.
"Second, connections."
He scratched his head, thought for a second, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a badge, one that Carmen had given him earlier.
According to Carmen, this badge was equivalent to the authority held by a High Inquisitor in Iberia.
"I don't know how big a deal an Iberian High Inquisitor is in your eyes," Steven said with a carefree tone, twirling the badge between his fingers. "But if it's not impressive enough… I could probably pull some strings and get myself recognized as a Saint or something. Shouldn't be too hard."
When it came to connections, he had to admit, he didn't exactly have much to brag about.
After all, in this world, he had no family, no friends, no roots whatsoever. What kind of background could a guy like that even claim?
Rhodes Island? That tiny company barely counted.
If he really had to name something with weight behind it, it'd have to be his ties to Iberia.
At the very least, he was confident that if he asked Carmen to appoint him as some sort of Secretary-General or Minister of Finance over there, it wouldn't be too difficult to arrange.
Having the backing of a nation, even if just on paper, wasn't the worst card to play.
With a smile, he casually tossed out a title that instantly silenced the room.
The two Darksteels glanced at the badge in his hand.
With all their years of experience, they could tell immediately that it was real.
That was, without question, a badge that only an Iberian High Inquisitor had the authority to carry.
They had no idea why an Inquisitor of that level would show up in a place like this… or do something like this. But as the young man had said—when it came to background, he definitely measured up.
Iberia was still one of the most powerful nations in the world, even after the disaster that had shaken the continent. Compared to Kazimierz, it wasn't any weaker—perhaps even slightly stronger.
That was the legacy of a former superpower. As the saying goes: a dying camel is still bigger than a horse.
"Of course," Steven said, smiling wider. "Strength and background aren't everything. If you wanna be a boss, you also need one more thing—money. And, well…"
He lifted a brow, and as the members of the Armorless Union looked on, he reached into his inventory and pulled out something heavy and gold.
With a dull thud, the item landed squarely on the floor. The sound was so loud, it echoed throughout the entire building.
But what truly caught everyone's attention wasn't the noise.
It was the dazzling golden shine radiating from the one-meter-wide cube.
That glow—the pure, unmistakable gleam of high-purity gold—was something every person here recognized instantly.
And the size of the thing… it made some of them feel like they were dreaming.
A gold cube… one meter wide?
And then, just when they thought they'd seen enough, the young man kept going.
Apparently, one wasn't shocking enough.
So he pulled out a second cube.
Then a third.
Then a fourth, arranging them neatly into a perfect square.
"Solid gold blocks," he said cheerfully, clapping his hands. "I think it's safe to say no one needs to worry about me missing payroll, right?"
Gold wasn't the most practical thing, sure. But when it came to making a statement—especially one about wealth—there was no better prop.
The sheer weight, the way the brilliant golden color practically blinded the eyes… Just setting it there on the floor was enough to leave everyone stunned.
But the most intense reaction came from someone else entirely.
Centaurea, who had stayed mostly silent until now, was staring at the gold cubes like she'd just been slapped.
After all, she remembered—vividly—how Steven had fallen so far he resorted to robbery. How he scammed her out of all her allowance money.
And now he was casually tossing out meter-wide cubes of solid gold like they were paperweights?
Was he messing with her on purpose?
This man wasn't just rich. He was filthy, obscenely, country-crushingly rich!
Steven noticed her staring. The shift in her gaze was immediate and venomous.
He coughed twice, looking away awkwardly and pretending he didn't notice.
—Yeah, best not to dwell on that little detail.
Compared to Centaurea's mix of shock and betrayal, the remaining members of the room were simply stunned speechless.
If the young man earlier displays—his strength, his influence—could still be explained as the rewards of personal power, then this?
This pile of pure, gleaming gold?
This was something else entirely.
This wasn't the kind of wealth you could get just by being strong. Not even by being very strong. No amount of brute force could just conjure up this much gold.
Honestly, even the Grand Knight Territory of Kazimierz probably didn't hold more than what was currently stacked in this very room.
And unless the young man had somehow robbed an entire national treasury, there was just no way to explain where he got it all.
The terrifying part?
From the way he carried himself, this clearly wasn't even all of it.
That was the part that truly made their hearts shudder.
Still wearing an expression of disbelief, one of the Darksteels slowly reached out and touched the nearest cube. His fingers brushed against the surface—and immediately, he knew.
That weight. That texture. That cold, unmistakable metallic smoothness that only pure gold had.
This was no illusion. No trick. No cleverly crafted fake.
It was real. Undeniably, terrifyingly real.
"So?" Steven said with a friendly smile, lightly patting one of the gold blocks. "Do you think I'm qualified now?"
His tone was easy, casual—but it carried the weight of a sledgehammer.
"Strength, background, money—I'm pretty sure I've checked all the boxes. Unless, of course… being a boss also requires a moral background check?"
He chuckled and leaned back slightly, watching them with a glint in his eye.
The others remained silent.
"...You certainly have the credentials," one of the Darksteel finally muttered, swallowing hard.
It was said with a bitter, almost defeated tone.
But how could they argue otherwise?
The young man had laid everything bare, in the most literal sense possible. What could they possibly say to that? Deny the reality in front of them?
From every angle—power, influence, resources—the young man had far surpassed anything the K.G.C.C could throw at them.
In fact, given the sheer scale of what he'd just displayed, the K.G.C.C would probably beg him to join them if he walked in with even a tenth of this.
They'd probably carry him straight into the executive boardroom and hand him a chair at the table.
But no, the young man wasn't here to join the K.G.C.C.
He was here to crush them.
Something must've happened. Someone in that massive machine must've stepped on this sleeping dragon's tail, and now they'd awakened something far, far worse than they could handle.
"…However," the Darksteel added after a long sigh, "even if we cast aside our so-called pride, the truth remains: the Armorless Union is still held hostage."
His expression darkened.
"We… still have leverage against us. In the K.G.C.C's hands. Even if we wanted to serve under you, even if we acknowledged your strength and power… the simple fact is, with that leverage, we can't move. We wouldn't be able to lift a finger to help you."
He paused, his voice almost a whisper.
"…And the truth is, you probably don't even need our help."
His words hung heavy in the air. A resignation that tasted bitter in everyone's mouths.
The young man had already made his point, he had more than enough power to simply flatten the Armorless Union if he chose. But even so, he was trying to win them over, not destroy them.
Unfortunately, the Armorless Union wasn't what it once was.
Just like what the young man had said at the beginning…
The Armorless Union was no longer the assassin's guild that had once been built on noble ideals.
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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