The Black Organization's headquarters.
Nestled in a remote, desolate wilderness, its location was a closely guarded secret.
Only a handful of the organization's core members knew exactly where it lay.
At this moment...
The distillery's top cadres had gathered in a conference room.
Renya Karasuma, exuding an aura of decay, leaned on his cane at the head of the long rectangular table.
Flanking him on either side...
Were Rum, Gin, Cohen... each cadre named after a spirit.
"Boss, haven't you been too lenient with Vermouth? She claims to have critical intelligence but doesn't show up herself."
Gin frowned.
"This meeting was your decision. Are you questioning the Boss?"
Tequila shot back with a scowl.
"Hmph. I'm only stating facts. If the Boss thinks I'm wrong, punish me as you see fit."
"Everyone, since we're here for a meeting, let's keep tempers in check. We can address it when Vermouth arrives."
Rum mediated smoothly.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The cane struck the floor.
The bickering ceased instantly.
Karasuma surveyed the room before speaking calmly.
"Vermouth has discovered a method to harness supernatural power—that's why she's in such a hurry. Wait patiently."
As a vast shadowy syndicate, the organization knew far more than ordinary people.
They were well aware that beneath the calm facade of daily life lurked forces beyond comprehension.
Otherwise...
They wouldn't pursue immortality as their ultimate goal.
Even Gin fell silent at that.
Woo-woo—
A piercing alarm blared suddenly.
Explosions and gunfire followed in rapid succession.
"What's happening?"
"Intruders?"
Panic rippled through the room. Rum reached for the surveillance feed, but the rumbling grew closer.
Faintly...
Agonized screams and wails echoed through the walls.
Boom!
The reinforced alloy doors—designed to withstand missile strikes—exploded inward.
A thick stench of blood assaulted their senses.
Corpses and gore littered the threshold.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Crisp footsteps approached from the corridor.
Under everyone's stunned gaze...
Kaiser strode in leisurely, flanked by the three women, stepping over the bodies as if on a casual stroll.
"Vermouth?"
"Sherry—you're alive?"
"And that's... Akemi Miyano?"
Reactions varied wildly.
How had these three ended up together?
And this man—who was he?
"Vermouth, what is the meaning of this?"
Karasuma's voice was low and grave. "Bringing an outsider here."
"Killing so many—even you cannot be forgiven."
"Who cares about your forgiveness?"
Vermouth sneered coldly, shocking everyone.
Rum and the others exchanged glances, disbelief mirrored in their eyes.
Had this Vermouth been impersonated?
Who would dare such audacity?
Ignoring the stares, Vermouth clung tighter to Kaiser's arm, pointing at Karasuma. "Master, this fossil is the organization's leader."
"Shall we wipe them all out?"
"What?"
They barely processed that when an even greater bombshell dropped.
Everyone gaped at Vermouth in utter incredulity.
This witch... calling the man Master?
And with such intimacy?
It felt like a nightmare.
"If we eliminate them now, can you seize control of the organization's funds?"
Kaiser wrapped an arm around her slender waist, murmuring the question.
He was short on cash at the moment.
And this distillery fit perfectly as a target for his brand of wealth redistribution.
No way he'd let such a fat purse slip away.
"That might be tricky."
Vermouth blinked, then pointed at Rum. "Spare him for now."
"I'm confident I can deliver the organization's riches to you, Master."
"Vermouth—you've truly lost your mind."
Rum stared, as if seeing her for the first time.
"Damn it—get your hands off her!"
Calvados, ever the loyal lapdog, could no longer hold back and reached for his gun.
Kaiser flicked his wrist casually—a beam of demonic energy pierced straight through him.
"How did he...?"
Fear crept uncontrollably across several faces.
They'd only seen a flash of light.
And Calvados was gone.
Bang!
At the same instant, Gin kicked over the table.
With inhuman speed, he drew and fired.
"Not bad reflexes."
Kaiser flicked a finger again—another beam reduced Gin to pulp.
The distillery's strongest fighter... squashed like an ant.
"..."
The room's atmosphere shifted dramatically.
Supernatural power.
This was undeniably supernatural.
No one present was a fool—they pieced it together quickly.
Yet one among them showed no fear—only exhilaration.
"Hah hah hah—so Vermouth wasn't entirely lying. You must be from that other world."
Karasuma remained seated, rubbing his cane. "We could cooperate."
"Killing me here only gets you the organization's money."
"But an alliance? You'd gain my influence. Together, we could even topple this country."
The other cadres inwardly admired him.
As expected of the Boss—turning crisis into opportunity.
"You talk too much."
Kaiser shook his head.
"No deal, then."
Karasuma tapped his cane on the floor. "Don't assume you're the only one with extraordinary power."
"Kill them—and I'll offer you a hundred sacrifices."
"Deal."
A sinister voice echoed as a grotesque, hulking figure materialized from thin air.
"Hiss."
Rum and the others recoiled, chills running down their spines.
As mere humans, that malevolent presence nearly froze their blood.
But soon...
Joy replaced fear.
The Boss had hidden such a trump card.
They were saved.
"A cursed spirit..."
Kaiser's eyes glinted faintly.
He'd sensed it the moment they arrived.
He hadn't expected a connection to Karasuma.
But in this fused world...
A man nearly a century old, with such influence, stumbling upon such things wasn't too surprising.
"One last chance, sir."
Karasuma hissed darkly. "Otherwise, once the cursed spirit devours you, it'll be too la—"
Boom!
An explosion erupted, reducing the spirit—and the ground beneath—to ash.
Silence blanketed the conference room.
Karasuma and the remaining cadres stared in stunned paralysis.
Their minds ground to a halt.
"A mere Mid-Class cursed spirit."
"Daring to flaunt itself before me?"
Kaiser spoke calmly, snapping his fingers lightly.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Beams of demonic energy fanned out, pulverizing everyone except Rum into mangled remains.
Thud!
Rum collapsed to his knees, face ashen.
Vermouth stepped forward gracefully, ready for a little chat.
She doubted...
Any harsh interrogation would be necessary.
If you want to read more than 20 chapters early feel free to visit patreon.com /Archus