The kitchen of the poaching vessel resembled a ruin abandoned after a battle.
The stench of rot and blood lingered in the air, and beneath the light, Endi's swollen face was reflected in pitiful detail.
Cain looked down at him, muttering with grief as though reopening an old wound. The four mafiosi cast mixed glares of anger and fear toward Cain.
"Y-You, blondie… what the hell are you doing here?"
One man's voice trembled, pitiful like a soul standing before a ghost.
Though the mafiosi flaunted fierce faces and powerful builds, they froze like frogs before a snake under Cain's unfathomable aura.
His eyes were nothing less than the chill rising from the depths of an abyss.
"What's all this commotion!?"
A sharp voice sliced through the gloom as a girl stepped into the room.
Her orange-dyed ponytail swayed, and a proud, prickly fierceness burned in her gaze.
Jessica—the young boss of the poaching vessel.
"Jessica! These punks were causing a ruckus in here, and we've got no clue how they even got aboard…"
The four mafiosi bobbed their heads in servility.
From their groveling, Cain instantly understood. She was the ruler of this ship.
"Well, well, you lowlife thugs. I've seen your mugs around before, haven't I? Always out hunting beasts on that island. Never thought the one calling the shots would be a brat like you."
Cain's voice cut like a cold blade through the air, words laced with ridicule and provocation. Jessica's brow twitched in irritation.
"Brat? You don't look any older than me. Were you poaching on that island too?"
Her voice sparked like clashing steel. The four followers, too, seethed at Cain's mocking tone.
"I lived on that island. I knew every move you made. Didn't bother interfering—I wasn't interested. Anyway, I'll be blunt since I hate roundabout crap. You're headed for Mildonia, right? Take us with you. Don't ask questions. Just shut up and do what I say. Got it?"
"Wh-What the hell are you babbling about…!?"
One mafioso, blinded by rage, lunged for Cain. But Jessica's sharp glare stopped him cold, forcing him to shrink back.
"Fine. I don't know your circumstances, but I'll take you."
Locking eyes with Cain, Jessica agreed after a brief silence—shockingly quickly.
Her lightness of decision left Cain momentarily disarmed.
"What!? Jessica, are you serious?? We don't need to listen to some brat spouting nonsense!"
"Oh? Are you questioning me? These two don't seem intent on harming us. So what's the problem?"
"But if they find out we let shady kids onboard, we'll be in deep trouble! The weapons deal is going smoothly—"
"No need to worry. We're aligned with them only out of mutual interest. We owe no duty to protect them from their enemies. Whatever these two do in Mildonia is none of our concern."
Jessica's bold words swept through the haze like a fresh wind.
"Glad you're reasonable. Then I'll take you up on your offer. But don't expect any payback."
Cain smirked, a grin like the fangs of a wolf lurking in the dark.
"Hmph. Fine. But you'd better behave. I'll have someone take you to another room."
Cain slung the unconscious Endi over his shoulder and left.
One mafioso cautiously approached to guide them, his steps like those of a ghost trailing the reaper.
"Damn, look at this mess… Still, it's rare. For someone like Jessica to ignore all the obvious problems and just go along with that brat's demand."
One mafioso muttered dissatisfaction, his voice fading like bubbles swallowed by the sea.
"Feels like things are about to get interesting."
Jessica chuckled—uncharacteristically. But her smile quickly dimmed.
"That blond man… we'd best not provoke him."
"Y-Yeah… Mildonia's only an hour away. We'll keep sharp!"
The mafioso's voice was like a sailor's resolve before a storm.
Endi and Cain. Jessica and her mafia crew. The united forces of the Nakatahm Kingdom's army and security corps.
Three factions, each driven by its own motive, headed toward Mildonia.
Their voyage was like a loom where the threads of fate intertwined.
The coming clash was nothing more than the herald of a hurricane. The moment when a gentle breeze turns into the roar of a storm was drawing near.