As it turned out, the young new leader's capacity for action was formidable.
The following afternoon, Sarelo crouched numbly behind a shipping container acting as cover, observing the derelict warehouse nearby that radiated a dangerous aura. It was about three stories high, its exterior unremarkable. The entrance was a massive, rust-streaked iron door covered in scratches and dents—mute witnesses to countless violent skirmishes. Scrap car parts, cigarette butts, and trash littered the surrounding ground.
This was the headquarters of the Carite gang, a dragon's den where most entered but few left.
A few sentries sat or stood by the iron door, glancing around periodically. They wore matching blue leather jackets and military boots. Their gazes were sharp, displaying a ferocity far beyond that of ordinary men. The wireless radios tucked into their collars and the bulges of holsters at their waists betrayed their profession.
The small number of visible guards meant nothing. Sarelo knew full well that if they were alerted, the mercenaries inside—the gang's true core strength—would be battle-ready instantly. He would be greeted by an uncountable swarm of bullets.
Sarelo had only agreed to this because he thought Kaiser's "two-man raid" talk was just a test of his resolve to risk his life and atone for his mistakes. He thought they were playing house; the other guy was playing for keeps.
Charging into a well-armed gang headquarters with at least a hundred experts using only two people... he really should have written his will before leaving. Despite wearing thick body armor and stuffing every crevice of his clothing with weapons, Sarelo didn't believe for a second that he'd make it back alive.
Whatever. I'm the one who messed up. Dying on the battlefield for the Organization is perhaps the best end I can hope for.
Adopting the mindset of a man facing certain death, he spoke up: "Leader, you..."
The person beside him was happily sucking on a carton of strawberry milk. Hearing a loud slurp as he hit the bottom, the boy finally deigned to look at him. "Hmm?"
"How exactly do you plan to infiltrate their headquarters?"
Satoru Gojo had changed his look today. He had ditched his usual casual hoodie for a well-fitted black suit, the collar left slightly open. His normally messy short hair was slicked back, giving him an air of maturity and rebellion.
His bewitching blue eyes were covered by white bandages, prompting Sarelo to complain inwardly.
[Sunglasses are one thing, but what's with the bandages? Is he really not afraid of being blind? Anyone seeing this would instinctively think he's a handicapped person. And where are his weapons? Is he planning to fight a hundred men bare-handed?! What kind of spell was I under to agree to follow him here?!]
But... the leader's thoughts were beyond the comprehension of ordinary men. Perhaps it was a deliberate disguise to lower the enemy's guard?
In the next second, Gojo shattered his filter: "Why overthink it? We'll just walk right in~"
"Huh?"
Ignoring the slack-jawed Sarelo, Gojo had already finished assessing the strength of every individual inside the building while drinking his milk.
[Total armed personnel: 120... unevenly distributed across three floors, the second floor is the most crowded. No signs of energy fluctuations like Cursed Energy.] Conclusion: Easy.
Sarelo was about to say more when he felt a wetness on his cheek, followed by an increasingly distinct pitter-patter.
"Is it raining?"
It had been a sunny day just a moment ago; he hadn't expected it to turn so quickly. Ignoring his half-soaked jacket, Sarelo hurriedly used his large frame to shield Gojo, failing to notice that not a single raindrop was actually landing on the boy.
"Leader, should we head back for now?"
Sarelo wasn't getting cold feet. It was just that heavy rain could easily affect a shooter's aim and cause weapons to malfunction; it was hardly the ideal time for a firefight.
Gojo didn't see it that way. "It's fine. I like the rain."
Rain washed away all traces. It wouldn't be as "dirty" that way.
He patted his clothes and stood up, walking straight toward the abandoned warehouse. Sarelo had no time to stop him. After agonizing for a few seconds over whether to run away, he sighed and hurried to follow Gojo's back.
[I hope this kid isn't being too reckless...]
Without the cover of the container, the two were quickly spotted.
"Halt! Who goes there?!"
Several guards drew their guns and shouted at them. Mexico was chaotic; homeless drifters wandering the streets looking for shelter was a common sight. But these two looked suspicious as hell.
A bald, burly man who recognized Sarelo frowned and signaled the others to lower their guns and stay calm. He was Matthew, the third-in-command of Carite. He had been chatting with the guards out of boredom and hadn't expected visitors. He didn't panic; instead, he stepped forward to study the pair.
He knew Sarelo well, but this white-haired kid was a stranger.
Snow-white hair, a black suit, and a faint smile on his lips, as if he knew everything. Even with the bandages, he didn't have the frailty of a sick man. His aura wasn't something an ordinary person could possess... And judging by Sarelo's submissive, respectful demeanor, he seemed to hold the boy in high awe.
[Is he a tough customer?]
"Mr. Sarelo, long time no see. Were you satisfied with the last shipment?" Matthew spoke first, unable to deduce anything. Sarelo's mouth twitched; he really didn't want to discuss that business right now.
Seeing his silence, Matthew guessed they weren't here to talk shop. A glint of ruthlessness flashed in his eyes. He already had an inkling of what was happening. Javier hadn't sent any messages to the gang for three days, and the boss had warned that he might have been compromised.
The fact that Sarelo knew the location of their headquarters... he likely got it from Javier. So, was this a settling of scores? An unannounced visit was suspicious. Not knowing if the other side had set a trap, Matthew hesitated to strike immediately.
"First time meeting you, Old Man. Hello~"
Gojo gave a beaming greeting, leaving Matthew confused. As thoughts raced through his mind, Matthew feigned a friendly air and said to Gojo: "I take it you are with the 'Crows'? Might I ask what brings you here?"
Gojo clapped his hands, looking almost innocent. "Since you know who we are, this makes things easier."
"I am their new leader, Kaiser. Sarelo is my subordinate now," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'm just here to inform you... your territory is under my management now."