"Ethan has arrived ho."
Itasca City.
The massive estate in the south of the city.
This estate originally belonged to the fat man Sindore, but now, naturally, it’s occupied by the group that kidnapped him.
At this mont, in the main hall of the main house, a middle-aged man dressed in a ticulously tailored suit, trying hard to present himself as a successful upper-class figure, was feeling restless.
He was unconsciously twisting his fingers, a bad habit left over from his days working as a manual laborer at the bottom of society.
Although he had tried to correct this habit over the years, he couldn’t help it when he got nervous.
This habit was like a mark of his lower-class background, sothing that couldn’t be removed even as he climbed up in society.
So, even though he now controlled an underground network in a city, a figure feared by everyone, he still couldn’t gain the recognition and appreciation of the true aristocracy.
Sotis, he couldn’t help but envy and be jealous of Ethan. They were both in the criminal underworld, so why could Ethan so easily converse with those in power and even win the favor of the Princess in the Royal Capital?
It really wasn’t fair.
Perhaps that’s why he dared to take such a reckless risk by getting involved in this matter.
Why should Ethan get all the good things?
"Roy, take it easy, it’s just Ethan. Don’t forget what our goal is this ti. We have enough of us here that even ten Ethans wouldn’t be able to defeat us."
At this mont, a man with a face like iron spoke words of comfort, though his face was cold and hard, and his words lacked warmth, so they didn’t reassure Roy at all.
Roy, Skinny Roy, the underground kingpin of Wind and Earth City next to Itasca City, had already been a famous figure in the northern underground scene in the ti of Sandro, with a reputation almost second only to Sandro himself.
Originally, after Sandro passed away, he intended to expand to the northwest, but the fat man Sindore wouldn’t yield, and Ethan’s firm grip also discouraged his plans for expansion.
But he never completely gave up on that idea.
Finally, not long ago, he got a chance.
The chief of the Prohibition Bureau in Wind and Earth City, Gus, whom he had been trying to befriend, suddenly approached him, saying soone wanted to make a good deal with him, promising he’d have the northern underground scene all to himself if it succeeded.
These words excited Roy, and although he tried to calm his beating heart, telling himself such good things often had a catch, in the end, he couldn’t resist his desire.
Besides, Gus was strong, and it was said his backer was a big shot from the Royal Capital’s upper echelon, and the business deal he introduced was exactly to his taste—
To take down Ethan and the Bolita family.
This was sothing he dread of achieving.
And after eting the people who wanted to do business with him, he beca even more confident.
He didn’t know where they ca from or why they wanted to take down Ethan, but the aura, presence, and faintly shown strength of the other party made him realize these were no simple people.
Though he himself was a fourth-level candidate for the godfather of the Destruction God, during his first eting with them, he didn’t even notice when the person got close.
It’s known that the Destruction God’s na is most sensitive to sensing danger.
Even though the fat man Sindore was slightly weaker, he was a third-level, almost fourth-level, existence.
Yet at that ti, the group sent only a few people and quickly wiped out Sindore’s guards, capturing him alive.
Their strength was terrifyingly overwhelming.
But that’s also what provided a sense of relief, after all, these people were now his allies.
Thinking about this, Skinny Roy felt a bit more reassured. Even if Ethan had so strength, he shouldn’t be much of a match against these people, right?
His key subordinate, Virel, who could be considered his right-hand man, also possessed considerable strength, but even he was easily subdued in a single encounter.
This battle was destined not to have any issues.
"I’d like a drink, do any of you want one?"
Feeling the atmosphere was a bit off, Skinny Roy decided to break the ice himself and got up to head towards the liquor cabinet.
The man with the face like iron rely shook his head without speaking.
Roy just asked casually; these people were incredibly disciplined, refraining from drinking or indulging in won, akin to machines.
Roy wasn’t even sure of their nas, except that the leader with the iron face was called Johnson, which didn’t sound like a real na.
And his subordinates seed to go by numbers.
It had a certain...
Military feel to it.
Thinking about this, Roy stopped pondering. This was definitely deeper waters than he had imagined; if he insisted on stepping in, he might drown himself.
Not knowing was probably best.
However, he didn’t realize that the man called Johnson was watching his back as if looking at a dead man.
Just then, amid the tense atmosphere, the phone in the room rang.
Johnson walked over and answered it.
"Okay, bring them in."
He listened for a mont before hanging up.
Skinny Roy looked at him.
"Vincent, and Ethan, they’ve co together."
"Just the two of them?"
"And a driver, a car full of bodyguards."
"Just that few?"
Skinny Roy was still sowhat in disbelief; was Ethan overly confident, or too careless, daring to enter enemy territory with so few people?
"There must be others, but it’s irrelevant."
Johnson showed a strong confidence of dismissal towards this.
For he always firmly believed one thing: in the face of absolute might and power, any trickery was futile.
Ethan might be clever, which was noted in their mission briefing, stating that this person was cunning and they must be cautious of that.
But Johnson had been through too many wars, seen too much human nature.
He had co across many clever people before, and in the end, it was always him who survived.
This ti would be no different.
"Prepare to welco our guests warmly."
Johnson said as he turned, walking step by step to the door and pulling it open wide.
The blazing sun poured in, dispersing much of the room’s dust and gloom.
Another midsumr afternoon.
And many were destined to die this afternoon.
At the sa ti, Ethan, who had already entered Itasca City, was peering outside.
It was his first ti in Itasca City, a small city with its own unique charm.
The architecture was unlike Wenster’s, with less of a coastal vibe, replaced by a colder, harder northern atmosphere.
"I’ve heard that Itasca’s pancakes are very tasty. When we’re done here, let’s have a good al. It wouldn’t be a wasted trip."
Vincent was not as relaxed as Ethan, constantly observing the surroundings, as if assessing how many were tracking and monitoring them along the way.
anwhile, he continuously glanced at the car behind, concern in his eyes.
Ethan patted him, saying, "Don’t worry, however many people I’ve brought, I’ll take back just as many."
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