The capital.
Stohess District.
First thing in the morning wasn't good news. After washing up, just as Roger stepped out of his room, Nelly came over to report a problem.
A number of the gang members had run away.
"The core members are here, only some of the new ones slipped out of Stohess on their own. Boss, how do you want to handle this…"
Roger frowned deeply.
He didn't want to keep too many of the old hands around—he didn't know their true loyalty—but without old members, there wouldn't be new ones. If everyone ran, the organization would collapse.
Who would help him gather intelligence then?
For information on the royal family, Marley's intelligence network didn't even know as much as a random civilian inside the Walls.
Who was the current king?
Who commanded the three military branches?
Who were the ministers?
How was power distributed?
These were things Roger had only started to scratch the surface of yesterday through Nelly.
He needed more information. Without it, finding the Founding Titan's coordinates would be like looking for a needle in the sea.
And for that, he needed people.
But now, members were already fleeing.
"How many left?"
"Three."
"The core members are still here?"
"All here, all here. Don't worry, boss—we'd never betray you like those ingrates!"
Yeah right, Nelly thought.
Ever since this boss started talking about conquering Stohess District and even the capital, he'd known this guy had brute force but no brains. His words sounded like childish fantasy.
He'd already been weighing whether to run.
But he hadn't expected others to bolt first.
Now, he wanted out even more.
Maybe tonight. Get as far from Stohess as possible!
He was lost in thought until Roger clapped him on the shoulder.
"Nelly, what do you think people in our organization want most?"
"What they want most?" Nelly answered without hesitation. "Money, women… but most of all, some kind of status."
"And how do you think we get that?"
"Uh?" Seeing the boss serious, Nelly actually thought it over. "Take jobs. Sometimes people need gangs, and we can take commissions or extort them. But the biggest money comes from drugs."
"Drugs?"
"Yeah. Cloyin. Easy to make. Just steal painkillers from the Military Police hospitals. Only…"
"Only what?" Roger raised an eyebrow.
"Only Red Eye never let us. Said it was too evil." Nelly laughed. "Boss, wasn't he stupid? We're a gang. We do what makes money. If people want to ruin themselves, that's their problem, not ours. And they pay us."
Roger thought.
Marley had gone through a period ruled by drugs. Back then, they weren't even considered harmful—companies spent fortunes to advertise them. Only when the papers filled with stories of addicts selling wives and children after losing everything did the government ban them.
By then, addicts were so many that the crackdown caused riots, people demanding the freedom to use drugs, many killed.
So yes, drugs destroyed lives. But the evil wasn't in the drug itself.
To Roger, selling poison knowingly was disgusting. He wouldn't let himself become like the Marleyan devils.
"No. We're not selling drugs." Roger said firmly. "If anyone here dares use or sell them, I'll cut off their fingers."
"U-understood, boss!"
Nelly bent in apology, though in his head he scoffed. Naïve. If you're so kind, why not run an orphanage instead of a gang?
Roger, having grown up in the roughest district, knew exactly what he was thinking. He didn't care.
"Any places nearby worth robbing?" Roger asked.
Nelly perked up. Finally, the boss was thinking straight.
Robbery was risky but paid fast. Hit a rich household and food and drink would never be a problem.
"Yes, yes!" Nelly eagerly grabbed a red pen and circled marks on the wall map. "These mansions belong to wealthy families. They're far from the garrisons—by the time the Military Police respond, at least half an hour, and we'll be long gone."
"Mm."
Roger leaned closer, stroking his chin.
The map did show wealthy households—mansions, villas, all away from the city center, far from Military Police eyes.
But stealing from them didn't feel exciting. And the money seemed small.
"Anywhere else?" he asked.
"No, boss." Nelly shook his head. "Don't underestimate these places. Even if remote, they've got private guards. If we slip in quietly—"
"No, Nelly, you misunderstood." Roger cut him off. "I mean for the first job, we need something big. Those rich merchants can wait. Think harder. Isn't there anywhere with even bigger profit?"
Hearing the boss call wealthy merchants paupers killed Nelly's enthusiasm.
Another fantasy.
"No, boss. Unless you mean robbing the royal palace?"
Since Nelly couldn't suggest more, Roger searched the map himself.
A moment later, he spotted the perfect place.
"Nelly, what about the Kamen Casino?"
"Kamen…" Nelly sucked in a sharp breath. "Boss, that's Kamen's turf! Their gang has hundreds of men. The casino's theirs, and they've got officials in their pocket. Years ago, their boss Kamen bragged so boldly he built his vault under the casino itself. Anyone who tried to touch it ended up dead."
"Is that so."
Roger smiled.
"Then we'll rob it. After years, that vault must be packed with money."
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