Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, three more years have passed.
For the various criminal organizations in Mexico, however, these three years have been a period of dire hardship and sleepless nights. It was all because of the existence of "that person."
Starting with the total annihilation of Carite a few years ago, he single-handedly crushed countless factions, large and small, expanding the "Crows'" territory three to four times over. Consequently, this once-mediocre, third-rate Mexican branch rose to prominence, leaping to become one of the undisputed leaders of the entire underworld.
Whether it was sophisticated weaponry or top-tier security, everything felt like wet paper in his hands, to be crumpled or torn at his whim. Many terrorists who initially scoffed at him often found themselves on their knees overnight, begging for mercy and swearing fealty. Even the first-rate powers at the top of the Mexican pyramid eventually gave up trying to suppress him, choosing instead to seek cooperation.
This naturally drew the attention of agencies like the FBI and CIA.
They were no strangers to the "Crow Legion." This transnational criminal organization, with its mysterious leader and massive scale, had always been at the top of their watchlists. They originally thought that compared to the strongholds in Japan and Germany, a mere Mexican branch wasn't worth their concern. Reality proved them catastrophically wrong.
After several frontal clashes ended in retreat—with the agents being toyed with like monkeys—and failed attempts to plant moles, the FBI even dispatched a precious A-rank Ability User to gather intel. Yet, even they could not escape those eyes that seemed to see through everything.
Not long ago, a major battle erupted between the two sides, ending with the A-rank Ability User barely escaping with their life, heavily wounded. Following this traumatic experience, the FBI ceased its reckless interventions. They retreated to the shadows to observe, recording the only available intel on "that person" in a top-secret file based on the survivor's testimony:
> Codename: "Kaiser." One of the high-ranking executives of the "Crows" and head of the Mexican branch.
> Gender: Male. Age: Unknown.
> Description: Tall. Has a habit of concealing his face. Appearance and nationality unknown.
> Ability: Unknown; suspected to be explosion-related with massive destructive power. Possesses extreme movement speed, making him difficult to capture on surveillance.
> Preliminary Assessment: At least an S-rank Ability User.
>
The FBI's pause in Mexican operations wasn't just due to fear of Kaiser's unknown power. There was another reason: his style of operation surprised them.
While Kaiser built the "Crows" into a top-tier power, he wasn't as barbaric as his peers who liked hanging heads from bridges. Instead, he strictly regulated his subordinates' personal conduct. Anyone who bullied or murdered civilians without cause faced ruthless punishment. The rules remained the same whether one was on a mission or not.
Furthermore, he collaborated with military police to intercept drug traffickers, earning the support of the local government. Using those resources and his own business acumen, he operated several profitable legal industries, becoming a dominant figure in both the "black" and "white" worlds.
Over time, the toxic atmosphere of the land was subtly transformed. Street wars between gangs became rare, and chaotic underworld thugs became more orderly. The police were shocked to find that with the "Crows" controlling the terrorists, crime rates and civilian mortality actually dropped. Thus, under their intentional or unintentional negligence, the organization thrived.
Of course, Kaiser's actions inevitably made a certain group of people gnash their teeth in hatred. When order is no longer chaotic, there is no profit to be made. To them, cutting off their wealth was as bad as killing their parents; the instigator had to be cut into a thousand pieces.
Through their joint efforts, the bounty on Kaiser's head in the black market grew increasingly valuable, eventually hitting $50 million, prompting various parties to move.
On the opposite side were Kaiser's supporters. Some were ordinary citizens, some were neutral gang members, and others were power-worshiping fanatics who admired Kaiser's strength and intellect, joining the organization as peripheral members just to follow him. Upon learning that even the FBI couldn't touch Lord Kaiser, this fanaticism reached an uncontrollable fever pitch.
Since black was the organization's representative color and he was the uncrowned king in their eyes, a new title began to spread until it became world-renowned. They called him—
"The Black Emperor."
Twenty-two-year-old Jeremy was one of these fanatics. Born an orphan on the streets, he spent years as a lackey in a small, unknown gang. After that gang dissolved, he managed to join the "Crows" out of pure idolization for Kaiser. After layers of screening, he became a regular peripheral intelligence officer, currently working as a bartender in an organization-owned bar on a commercial street.
"Mr. Sarelo..." The clean-cut young man looked left and right to ensure no one was eavesdropping before lowering his voice. With eyes full of curiosity, he asked the dark-skinned man sitting opposite him: "Do you know what Lord Kaiser's Ability actually is?"
"The FBI and CIA haven't figured it out, so how would I know?" Sarelo didn't even lift an eyelid as he gulped down his drink. "You kid, don't ask about things you shouldn't."
"Hehe..." Jeremy scratched his head sheepishly. "I got it."
Over the years, Sarelo had matured significantly. The tasks assigned to him were completed without error, and he had gradually become one of the leader's closest confidants alongside Sake and Tequila. Due to the organization's booming development, the initial shortage of personnel and funds had long been resolved, but...
A flash of gloom crossed Sarelo's eyes. Precisely because of this, Lord Kaiser—who used to work somewhat seriously—had recently started disappearing and slacking off, dumping a mountain of work on Sarelo and Sake while he became a "hands-off" boss. Sometimes Sarelo was so busy he wished he could learn a cloning technique. Only now did he finally have a moment to catch his breath with a drink.
Jeremy was a peripheral member Sarelo had personally selected. Given the kid's wit and his immense devotion to the leader, Sarelo didn't mind promoting him and making him the bartender here.
"But you must have seen Lord Kaiser, right? What does he look like?" Jeremy's eyes were sparkling. That was the legendary "Black Emperor"! In his imagination, the man was likely a cold-faced individual in his forties with an aura of natural authority—someone who could blow people up just by glaring at them.
When Jeremy shared this vision, Sarelo immediately shook his head with an indescribable expression.
"He's not?" Jeremy's face changed drastically. "Is it really like what they say?!"
"Like what?" Sarelo asked.
"Uh... well..." Jeremy hesitated for a long time before whispering: "Some people swear that Lord Kaiser is a mutant like the Hulk, with three heads, six arms... and that he eats people. Adults and children alike..."
"..."
Sarelo didn't know whether to laugh out loud or find the person who started such an absurd rumor and teach them a lesson. Fine, it's good for Lord Kaiser's prestige. And it's definitely not because I want revenge for him being a lazy boss. Definitely not.
As Sarelo and Jeremy chatted idly, Sarelo saw a text on his phone. He quickly put down his bottle and wiped his mouth. "I have to go. 'That person' needs me for something."
"So soon? You're leaving already?" Jeremy was extremely envious. Mr. Sarelo hadn't told him what Lord Kaiser looked like yet!
The poor bartender let out a sigh. Just then, a commotion broke out at the entrance. He could hear muffled but obvious female shrieks of excitement.
"Wow..."
"What a hottie! I wonder which country he's from. Is he Asian?"
"He's so tall, probably not?"
"Who cares, he looks even cooler with that blindfold..."
"Is the one next to him his girlfriend? Or a bodyguard?"
"I don't know, but his expression looks terrifying..."
"Should we go ask for his contact info?" "Forget it... I feel like I'd get killed!"
Jeremy mused to himself that the crime rate had indeed dropped; normally there wouldn't be so many women on the streets at this hour. All thanks to Lord Kaiser's deterrent power! At the same time, he felt their reaction was an exaggeration. He didn't take the "hottie" seriously and failed to notice the look on Sarelo's face—as if the man had been struck by lightning.
"Eh? Mr. Sarelo, what's wrong?" Jeremy asked, puzzled.