What?! I haven't even started acting yet, how could I be exposed?!
Bege was shocked, a flash of surprise crossing his eyes as he instinctively gripped the pistol at his waist.
He wasn't yet the future overlord who would unite the West Sea mafia, so facing sudden situations still made him somewhat nervous.
Fortunately, Brandon's next words dispelled his wariness.
"Actually, you can read, can't you?
If someone hadn't told me you were reading a newspaper yesterday, I wouldn't have known!"
Bege felt Brandon's arm drape heavily over his shoulder, the pungent alcohol breath making him wrinkle his nose involuntarily.
Compared to that cheap, harsh rum, he preferred smoother red wine.
But his hand on the gun finally relaxed as he threw his head back with a loud laugh:
"That's right, senior! I learned a bit from the old woman in my village before. Why bring this up suddenly?"
"Of course there's a reason. We're really short on literate people right now."
Brandon took another swig of alcohol, slurring drunkenly:
"We... you... anyway hic~ the boss wants to see you."
Thud!
With those words, Brandon collapsed backward, his head hitting the floor with a loud thud.
I'll kill this drunkard on my way out too.
Bege looked disdainfully at his shoulder where Brandon's drool had stained his suit.
"This guy's gotten too full of himself since being promoted recently,"
a gang member muttered as he stepped forward to haul Brandon onto a table, then gestured to Bege:
"Come with me, rookie. I'll take you to see the boss."
Click~
The two pushed open the door and stepped outside. Bege offered a cigarette:
"Senior, any idea why the boss wants to see me?"
"No need to call me senior. Just Leyton is fine."
Leyton lit the cigarette, exhaling smoke contentedly as he explained:
"The boss wants records kept on everyone's tax payments. But in our gang... well, not many of us can read.
Though the townsfolk don't fear us much anymore, few are willing to help us either."
"He's calling you to test your skills. Do well—the boss values educated people these days."
Bege nodded, then pressed the entire pack of cigarettes into Leyton's hand.
Soon, they arrived at the door of a modest house. Leyton stepped forward and knocked.
"Boss! I've brought Bege!"
"Then bring him in already! What's with the chatter at the door?!"
Click~
They pushed open the door and entered.
Bege quickly scanned the room. The first things that caught his eye were two desks—one large and empty, where Gunpowder lounged in an armchair, legs propped on the table, leisurely smoking a cigar.
The smaller desk was piled with documents, where a masked woman was working.
A flicker of confusion passed through Bege's mind.
A secretary? What would such a small mafia need with a secretary?
"Good to see you, boss!"
Bege gave a slight bow, proactively showcasing his value:
"Beyond basic literacy, I also know some management skills."
Though he didn't know why Blackfire had so much paperwork to handle, he aimed for the masked woman's position—staying in this room would undoubtedly aid his assassination plans.
"Oh?" Gunpowder sat up, rubbing his chin with interest:
"Secretary, test him with a question."
Robin nodded from behind the smaller desk, posing a not-too-difficult question in a hoarse voice:
"Today is tax collection day. Our men are scattered across various districts, making communication difficult if enemies attack. How can we improve this situation?"
Was this question meant to be insulting?
Bege scoffed inwardly and quickly provided an answer:
"Divide the entire town into seven sections. Each day, only deploy one group to collect protection fees from one section. That way, we'll only be missing one-seventh of our forces daily, and the dispatched men will all be concentrated in the same area, making communication easier."
"He passes. Let him manage the tax collection team first."
"Hahaha, good! As my secretary suggested, you'll take charge of the tax team. Report back at noon."
Gunpowder laughed heartily and tossed Bege a Den Den Mushi along with a note:
"Contact Geno. He'll explain the specifics. Aside from not using force, you're free to handle things as you see fit."
"Yes, Boss!"
Bege accepted the Den Den Mushi with satisfaction. Though he hadn't managed to stay in the room, he'd still climbed to a high position—more opportunities for assassination.
He left the room, ready to contact the tax team and assess the situation.
Leyton silently watched his retreating figure, only returning to Gunpowder's side once he was certain Bege had left.
"Boss, he's gone."
Gunpowder pulled out another Den Den Mushi from his coat—already in the middle of a call—with Dier on the other end.
"Go back for now, Leyton."
"Gunpowder, get along with him over the next few days."
"Robin, find the right moment to remove your mask in front of him. Eliminate his suspicions completely."
...
At noon, Bege returned to report and saw Robin eating without her mask.
Her abnormally protruding forehead, asymmetrical cheeks, sausage-like lips, and chin covered in small fleshy bumps.
Bege had initially been curious about her, assuming she was some important figure forced to hide her identity behind a mask.
But now, seeing her face, all his suspicions vanished.
No wonder she wore a mask—she was downright hideous.
Over the next few days, the assassination plan progressed smoothly.
Gunpowder showed no wariness toward Bege, even addressing him as a brother.
Only one opportunity stood between him and success.
On the seventh day, Gunpowder led most of the crew to a hot spring inn under the guise of a team-building retreat.
The island had five hot springs, each enclosed by three-meter-high wooden planks with a single two-meter-high gate for entry.
Pushing open the gate, Bege—who had recently gained favor—entered the hot spring alongside Boss Gunpowder.
"Boss, you go first. I'll call for some women!"
Bege fawned obsequiously.
The hot spring was adjacent to a two-story inn run by the kind-hearted Julia, who had taken in many homeless women.
With no other means to repay her, they earned small sums by offering massages to the hot spring's guests.
Slap!
"Don't rush. Get in and soak first!"
Gunpowder grabbed Bege's wrist and, without another word, tried to throw him into the hot spring.
Bege resisted, a flicker of panic flashing in his eyes as he forced calm into his voice:
"What are you doing, Boss?"
"Fucking you over, of course! Everyone, get in here and help!!"
Gunpowder grinned viciously. At his shout, Brandon and the others burst in, ready to shove Bege into the water.
Bege cursed under his breath. He had planned to exploit Gunpowder's trust, luring him into the hot springs to execute him by gunfire.
Yet in the blink of an eye, he found himself the one surrounded.
Bang! Bang! Bang!!!
His left eye transformed into a castle window, while three gates opened on his back, multiple guns extending from within and firing relentlessly.
Not long ago, he had consumed the Castle Fruit. Though he had no troops stationed inside his body, it was armed with weapons.
He warped the castle's floor into the shape of a hand to fire the guns—though it drained his stamina, it allowed him to suppress the enemy with sheer firepower.
Under the hail of bullets, Brandon and the others were forced to scatter. Gunpowder's wrist was pierced by three holes, making it difficult for him to exert strength, allowing Bege to easily break free from his grip.
Just as Bege was contemplating his escape, the three-meter-high wooden planks surrounding the hot springs suddenly collapsed.
The Blackfire members, who should have been enjoying the springs, now formed a tight circle, each holding a gun.
Brandon and the others hastily retreated, leaving only Gunpowder and Bege in the center.
Gunpowder grinned and roared:
"Open fire!"