Inside the Organization base, Leader's Office.
"Wait, he's not here?"
Tequila hadn't seen Satoru Gojo all morning and was secretly puzzled. He had stayed up all night drafting a plan to annex Carite and was eager to present it to the Leader. He believed that as long as they followed the plan step-by-step, they would reach their goal in no time.
He and Sake searched everywhere Gojo might be, but found nothing. It wasn't until several hours later that he finally received a text message on his phone. After reading it, his pupils constricted—he had no idea how he was going to explain this to the Boss.
"This is bad... the Leader and Sarelo have run off to the gang's headquarters!"
What happened to yesterday's "just talking"?
Sake turned pale with fright. Although she viewed Kaiser-sama as an omnipotent deity, deep-diving into the enemy camp with only two people was simply reckless. "Go gather all the members still at the base, hurry!"
They had to rush over before anything happened to Satoru Gojo.
Back at the Carite Headquarters.
"I'm just here to notify you... from now on, your Carite territory belongs to me."
"What?"
The bald man and several guards exchanged looks before bursting into violent laughter a few seconds later.
"Hahaha... has this kid lost his mind?"
"The 'Crows' are truly getting desperate, Sarelo, to let a frail brat like this ride over your head."
"Ouch, my stomach hurts from laughing..."
Clearly, the "I am the First Emperor, send me money" style of rhetoric was useless here. Hearing such an absurd declaration, their initial wariness vanished. The Third-in-Command, not taking it seriously at all, even felt like mocking them: "Fine, then I'm notifying you that the 'Crows' belong to us starting today. Any objections?"
At his signal, over a dozen men rushed out from inside, every one of them aiming a gun at the pair. The scout he had sent out earlier also returned, reporting that there were no ambushes nearby; there really were only these two people.
Truly, there is a path to heaven you refuse to take, and a gate to hell you break into uninvited.
The Third-in-Command sneered: "I really don't know where you get the nerve... I'll feed you to the dogs in a bit."
Sarelo thought, this is bad. Negotiating so loudly with these guys who live on the edge of a blade was no different from walking into a trap. If this "Little Ancestor" kept playing around, they might actually lose their lives here.
Just then, a guard spoke up: "Third-in-Command, even though this white-haired kid is blind, he's got good looks. Why not keep him alive and gift him to the Second-in-Command?"
The bald man's eyes lit up. "Sounds like a plan."
"Sigh..." Satoru Gojo let out a sigh.
Why were there perverts everywhere? It seemed God was forcing him to rid the people of this evil.
"How regrettable~ I've already notified you, why won't you just be obedient?" Facing dozens of dark muzzles, he murmured in genuine confusion. "Do I really have to slaughter you all?"
Beside him, Sarelo was nearly ready to bite the pin of his grenade. He didn't care about the consequences anymore; if he had to die here, he would at least take these scumbags with him!
"Fire!"
The Third-in-Command was startled by the grenade and stopped caring about taking anyone alive; he just wanted to gun them down immediately.
At the exact moment the guards were about to act—perhaps the very instant the thought formed—they suddenly felt a bone-chilling cold sweep over their scalps. It was the warning Death gives in extreme situations.
"That's...!"
A white blur was approaching them at inhuman speed.
One guard let out a muffled groan as crimson liquid suddenly erupted from his left shoulder, splashing onto the iron gate of the warehouse. Sarelo snapped to his senses, quickly taking down the guard closest to him and dragging the body over to use as cover.
The other guards immediately opened fire. In an instant, the air was filled with the thunder of gunfire as bullets mixed with raindrops, flying toward the blur.
But Satoru Gojo was too fast—so fast that time itself seemed to freeze. His silhouette flickered in and out of the guards' sight; every time he appeared, someone fell. To his eyes, the firearms in their hands were nothing more than children's toys, completely beneath notice.
In less than a minute, the gunfire gradually died down. All the guards lay in the rain, their weapons scattered across the ground.
Fortunately, Sarelo was no amateur; he had escaped with nothing but a few scratches. Satoru Gojo held a gun he had snatched from someone, slowly crushing it into scrap metal with his palm before tossing it in front of the bald man.
"To be honest, I don't really want to kill people."
He was telling the truth. Gojo pointed a dagger at the terrified bald man and said, in a rather foul mood: "So, Old Man... I want your territory. Do you still have any objections?"
No matter how fierce their past skirmishes had been, they had never seen a freak who could take bullets head-on. The Third-in-Command's hands went limp, and he raised them tremblingly.
"I surrender."
Inside the warehouse, the Second-in-Command was leaning back on a sofa, puffing on a cigar while a beautiful blonde woman massaged him. The woman accidentally used too much force, causing him to hiss in pain. He roared, "What is wrong with you? Can't you do this one simple task?"
The woman knelt at his feet in terror, begging for mercy: "I'm sorry, Master, give me one more—" A "bang" rang out, and her limp body collapsed, breathless.
"Bad luck," the man waved his hand impatiently. "Bring in another woman, one who knows the rules."
"Yes, Second-in-Command."
He took a drag of his cigar, intending to continue laughing and joking with his underlings, but he faintly heard the sounds of a firefight outside. Occasionally, small factions would stumble upon their headquarters and try something suicidal. He initially didn't take it seriously, but as he listened, the transition from violent noise to eerie silence gave him a bad feeling.
He immediately arranged for a group of elites to go check it out. These were special forces veterans—men he could rely on.
But before they could move, the haggard bald man entered the room, bringing two outsiders: a blind kid and a dark-skinned man.
"Second Brother!" As soon as he entered, he explained: "The 'Crows' are here. They want to... swallow our territory."
The Second-in-Command was practically laughing from rage. "And so you just lead them in?"
"The guards are all down, I couldn't beat—AH!!" Before the bald man could say more, a bullet hit his shoulder, and he fell backward in pain.
"If you're this stupid next time, just go die." Before Satoru Gojo could even comment on this scene of infighting, the Second-in-Command raised his hand and began firing rapidly at him and Sarelo. Simultaneously, squads of fully armed special forces gathered from all sides, gradually forming a perimeter, trapping the two inside.
"Watch out, Leader—"
The Second-in-Command's pistol and the assault rifles of the special forces behind them fired in unison. Bullets tore through the air, and the smell of gunpowder grew thick.
The moment Sarelo saw the bullets flying toward them, he felt a twinge of regret. He had known this was a suicide mission, yet he had followed Kaiser anyway. Perhaps it was because the boy possessed an aura that compelled one to believe in him.
But, surrounded by so many people, no matter how strong one was, a dagger couldn't solve everything. Sarelo resolutely closed his eyes and gripped the grenade hidden on his person. Before he died... he would at least be of some final use!
However, just as Sarelo was about to pull the pin, he felt a familiar, immense force pulling him backward.
"Sarelo, get back. Do you have a death wish?"
"...Eh?"
At this moment, time seemed to stand still.
[Ding! Detecting Host's needs, Passive Cursed Technique activating...]
[Host is facing a crisis, conditions for ability unlock met... Ability Panel upgrading...]
[Limitless Cursed Technique "Azure," Unlocked!]