Once the brief sense of ceremony was over, it was time to address their growling stomachs.
With the cake sliced, Sake took a cautious bite and immediately let out a delighted
"Oishii!"
"It's... it's too delicious! This is practically magic!"
The flavors of chocolate and blueberry merged perfectly, creating a dense yet melt-in-the-mouth texture. The sweetness was just right; every bite felt like the taste of happiness itself. Sake practically melted into her seat, and even Calvados—who wasn't a big fan of sweets—found himself hopelessly indulged.
Seeing their reactions, Gojo Satoru raised an eyebrow triumphantly at Gin, looking like a feline general who had just won a grand battle.
"Well? Good, right?"
"It's fine," Gin replied, inconspicuously licking his lips to savor the lingering taste.
Hmph, such a textbook tsundere.
Taking advantage of Gin's momentary distraction, Satoru launched a surprise attack, smearing a glob of cream across Gin's face.
That was the signal for all-out war.
The group devolved into a chaotic scuffle. The hidden childishness they rarely showed during the day was fully unleashed. It wasn't until midnight that they finally called a truce.
Yes, it was truly a wonderful night.
Thanks to his powerful physique, Satoru was still bursting with energy the next morning. The others, however, were suffering from varying degrees of sleep deprivation, sporting noticeable dark circles under their eyes.
Tequila and several organization members arranged by Vermouth arrived to escort them to the airport. One group was destined for Japan, the other for Mexico.
Finally, the time for farewells had come. Satoru was the first to depart. He asked Sake and Tequila to wait a moment while he pulled Gin aside for some private words.
The boy with long, pale-gold hair kept a wooden face, showing no emotion until he was pulled into a bear hug, which finally caused his composure to crack. Knowing how thin-skinned Gin was, Satoru released him quickly and said playfully, "Don't miss me too much, Gin-chan~"
"Don't worry, I won't miss you at all," Gin said coldly.
"How cruel~ I'm going to be so lonely and bored, you know?"
Gin knew that, in all likelihood, they wouldn't see each other for several years. A man like him wouldn't feel "lonely" like a little girl who lost her doll; he was simply unaccustomed to goodbyes.
"In any case... be careful. Don't die."
After hesitating for a long time, those were the blunt words Gin managed to get out. But for him, it was a clear display of concern.
Satoru blinked, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "You too, Jin."
Actually, he preferred using the name over the codename. After making Gin promise to stay in touch, he exchanged a few words with Calvados, waved, and walked toward Tequila and the others.
It was time to set off.
Several hours later, at the Mexico branch of the Organization—specifically inside the core base designated A2001.
The facility featured a bar that had been converted into a meeting hall. In one corner sat a long table cluttered with maps, documents, and firearms. Sarello leaned against the bar, swirling a glass of red wine. The blood-colored liquid shimmered dangerously in the dim light. He stood about 1.8 meters tall, in his late twenties, with dark skin and a face that screamed "trouble." He had short, spiky brown hair and wore black clothes that barely contained his explosive muscles.
"I expect the newbies will be here soon." Sarello smirked with a hint of disdain. "If they're planning to make a name for themselves here, they've come to the wrong place."
The surrounding members erupted into laughter.
One man shook his head dismissively. "Boss, you've run this base for so long. How could some random newcomers threaten your position? That gentleman probably just wants extra hands because the local gangs are getting out of control."
Another member raised his glass toward Sarello. "The boss is right. We should put those kids in their place early on."
Sarello nodded slightly and took a sip of wine. He had been with the Organization for over ten years. Through his extraordinary combat talent, he eventually caught the Boss's eye and was appointed the leader of the Mexico branch. For years, his word had been law here. He had recruited plenty of fresh blood and thought he was doing a great job, so he hadn't expected the Boss to suddenly send new blood to his base.
Supposedly, two of them were products of the militarized training camp—definitely not pushovers. One was codenamed Sake, the other... Kaiser? An interesting name, though he wondered what the Boss saw in him.
Of course, Tequila was coming too. Tequila was a veteran of the Mexico branch; Sarello had even been mentored by him back in the day. He hadn't expected to see him again after all these years.
As for the possibility of his power being diluted? Sarello wasn't worried. He was supremely confident in his own strength. Could a mere rookie and an old-timer who had been gone for years really climb over his head?
What he cared more about was whether "That Gentleman" knew about his private dealings with the local cartels and the kickbacks he was taking. While it wasn't exactly betrayal—more like lining his own pockets—the consequences would be dire if it came to light.
Sarello drained his glass, feeling a surge of irritation. However, his interest piqued when the news arrived that the newcomers had reached the base.
"Come on. Let's see what these guys are made of."
If they were capable and knew their place, he was willing to give them responsibility. If not, he wouldn't mind giving them a "lesson."
When he actually saw them, Sarello was surprised.
Sake was a petite, delicate-looking girl who blushed if you stared at her too long; she seemed entirely harmless. The other white-haired kid used a high-profile name like "Kaiser" but looked soft and frail—exactly the type Sarello despised most. He was even wearing sunglasses, looking like a blind man.
No matter how good he is, how good can he actually be?
A sense of contempt bloomed in Sarello's heart. He gave them a perfunctory nod as a greeting and then turned to strike up a conversation with Tequila.
Satoru ignored the man's attitude, instead curiously observing his surroundings. Since the passive technique had unlocked, the influx of information had increased, so he had taken to wearing sunglasses to reduce the mental strain.
Tequila's tone was flat: "Sarello, it seems you've been living quite comfortably these past few years."
"Far from it. I'm busy day and night, working heart and soul for the Organization," Sarello lied through his teeth. "Why else would that gentleman send you all here to share my burdens?"
"Share your burdens?" The tall man with hawk-like features sneered. "Have you misunderstood something?"
Alarm bells went off in Sarello's head. "What... what do you mean by that?"
"It means that the weather is about to change."