Episode 47
“Hmm.”
Zeke stepped off the ship and took a deep breath.
The familiar scent of the southern continent stirred memories of his past.
“Those were some rough times.”
He had drifted from one adventurer party to another as a porter, only to be caught in a fraudulent contract and sold into slavery in the southern region.
Zeke was just seventeen then.
He survived as a slave on a soma plantation, and even when sent on dangerous missions as a human shield, he was the only one who kept coming back alive.
After surviving five such missions, Zeke was formally trained as a hitman.
Surprisingly, the work suited him well. As long as he stayed calm and focused on the task, he faced little difficulty.
Even knights who could wield aura were vulnerable if caught off guard by poison.
It was then Zeke realized that using aura wasn’t the be-all and end-all.
But things were different with the Blue Knights, who could wield aura blades. No matter how stealthily Zeke approached, they sensed him like ghosts.
Even poison was ineffective against them; they could manipulate their aura to burn it away or expel it from their bodies.
“But in the end, they’re still human. Everyone has a weak spot.”
Zeke mastered the art of exploiting those weaknesses and became a renowned hitman for the McCain Cartel.
It was only natural that Zeke earned the favor of Don Juan, the boss of the McCain Cartel.
As Zeke stood at the harbor, lost in old memories, someone approached him.
“Deputy, we’re ready.”
It was a guide from the Reinhardt Trading Company, who had been arranged in advance.
Zeke climbed into the carriage prepared by the guide.
The carriage headed towards McCain territory.
Currently, the largest cartel in the southern continent was the McCain Cartel, led by Don Juan.
Trailing closely behind was the Pavela Cartel.
Originally pirates from the southern seas, the Pavela Cartel had a route through the treacherous waters, allowing them to transport soma to the central continent, where it fetched higher profits than piracy.
Initially, they sold off McCain’s goods, but as they expanded, they grew larger than their pirate origins.
Had the Pavela Cartel been content with their gains, there might have been no issue, but they coveted McCain’s position.
They believed that by blocking the syndicate’s distribution network, McCain would be left without means to move their goods, allowing Pavela to dominate the market.
“They underestimated Don Juan.”
In his past life, Zeke was caught in the middle of the war between the McCain and Pavela Cartels.
Leading McCain’s sicarios, Zeke destroyed Pavela’s production camps and took out their key bosses.
In less than three years, the Pavela Cartel crumbled, and the southern region descended into chaos as smaller cartels vied for power.
On the day McCain triumphed over Pavela, Don Juan adopted Zeke as his son and named him his successor.
But that very night, Zeke killed Don Juan and all the McCain Cartel’s executives.
“Deputy, we’ve arrived.”
Zeke opened his eyes at the guide’s words, having been lost in his memories.
They had reached a safe house on the outskirts of McCain territory, set up from Golpa Harbor.
“Not bad at all.”
It seemed Cliff had put some thought into it; a spacious camp with an attached warehouse awaited them.
As Zeke entered the camp, he spotted a familiar face.
“Kay.”
Kay from the syndicate was already there, looking slightly tense.
“Nervous?”
“Aren’t you?”
“I’m fine for now.”
Kay shook her head, exasperated.
“I’ve got everything ready. We’ll head to Don Juan’s mansion soon.”
Zeke nodded.
Today was a gathering to celebrate Don Juan’s birthday, with all the McCain Cartel bosses and their syndicate partners in attendance.
Kay was to attend as a representative, presenting future distribution plans to Don Juan.
Zeke was to accompany her as support.
Kay clutched her head.
“Do you know? They say the McCain Cartel uses crocodiles to deal with traitors. They paralyze you and throw you into a swamp with those beasts.”
“Not crocodiles, but shark-dragons. They look similar but are over six meters long with unimaginable bite force. It’s one of Don Juan’s twisted hobbies. He loves boasting about his shark-dragon farm.”
Kay’s face turned even paler.
“If they find out we burned the soma, I’ll be their next meal.”
Zeke shook his head at her muttering.
“No, Kay, you’d be dealt with differently. You’re a mage. There’s a superstition here that having a mage’s body parts can ward off curses.”
Kay’s face turned a shade of blue.
Zeke stood and patted her shoulder.
“Come on, let’s get ready.”
Kay sighed deeply and stood up. There was no turning back now.
After changing clothes, Kay and Zeke boarded a carriage to Don Juan’s mansion in McCain territory.
As they approached the mansion, which practically owned an entire town, Zeke felt a wave of nostalgia.
Don Juan’s estate sprawled across the mountain, with cartel members guarding the entrance vigilantly.
Not just Zeke and Kay’s carriage, but bosses from all over the region, southern kingdom royals, officials, foreign politicians, and local dignitaries were converging here.
Kay’s jaw dropped at the sheer size of Don Juan’s mansion.
“Wow, this isn’t a mansion; it’s a castle. Even in the central kingdom, there aren’t many castles like this.”
The wealth McCain Cartel amassed through soma was beyond imagination.
Across the continent, there were likely few individuals wealthier than Don Juan.
Zeke, who once lived here and oversaw security, knew every corner intimately.
“Even after decades, everything is so vivid.”
Kay and Zeke slowly made their way inside the mansion.
The banquet hall was the epitome of opulence.
True to the southern continent, various beastfolk were present.
The presence of beastfolk, rare in the central continent, added an exotic touch.
A sheep beastfolk approached Zeke and Kay, offering them drinks with a polite demeanor.
Kay picked up a glass of wine to calm her nerves.
Zeke declined the offer and scanned the faces in the banquet hall.
“Mostly familiar faces.”
The key figures he had memorized during his hitman days resurfaced in his mind.
Knowing the future, Zeke was aware of how each of them would meet their end.
Then, Zeke noticed someone and nudged Kay.
“Do you know who that is?”
Kay looked in the direction Zeke indicated and nodded.
“Joaquin Fernandez, also known as El Mencho. He’s the second-in-command of the McCain Cartel.”
“Good, remember him well.”
“Why El Mencho?”
Just then, the lights in the banquet hall changed.
Vibrant music played, and magical fireworks of fantastic colors danced around the hall.
The floor in the center of the hall rose, revealing a figure. A large man with a typical southern mustache and curly hair stood on the platform.
“Don Juan.”
As Don Juan raised his hand, the band played lively southern music.
He grabbed a voice amplifier and began singing a southern song in tune with the music.
“From the sea of death, I saved a dying life, fought fear and moved forward. If you defy, prepare for your life, oh, the refusal there leaves a trace of death. That noble virtue, indeed!”
Guests at the banquet began dancing joyfully to Don Juan’s song and the southern music.
Lively music, sumptuous food, fine wine, and dazzling performances.
Don Juan spared no expense for the banquet.
After several rounds of lively music, Don Juan finally stopped the band and took the voice amplifier again.
“My brothers! Thank you so much for attending this party!”
After his greeting as the host, Don Juan stepped down from the platform, and the band resumed playing.
Kay turned to Zeke.
“We’ve got the signal from the executives. It’s time to meet Don Juan.”
Zeke followed Kay to a more private area of the banquet hall.
Inside the meeting room, Don Juan, key McCain bosses, and syndicate executives were engaged in conversation.
Zeke discreetly surveyed the room.
Not only hitmen but also notorious outlaws from the borderlands, knights from the central continent, and rogue rangers from the northern continent were strategically positioned.
“Money does wonders.”
If an assassin were to reveal themselves, arrows would rain down, and knights’ swords would strike, severing their head in an instant.
At that moment, the Syndicate’s chairman noticed Kay entering the room and waved her over with a welcoming smile.
“Don Juan, this is Kay, the operative I mentioned.”
Kay bowed her head in greeting to Don Juan.
Don Juan, a cigar perched between his lips, gave Kay’s low-cut dress a once-over.
“Pleasure to meet you. I heard you were a magician, but I didn’t expect a woman.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, Don Juan.”
Don Juan kissed Kay’s hand and remarked, “A beautiful magician is rarer than any jewel.”
With Kay’s arrival, Don Juan seemed ready to commence the meeting. He glanced around the room and spoke.
“Very well. I’m eager to hear the wisdom you bring. Let’s begin.”
Kay, visibly tense, began to speak.
“Don Juan, do you recall the warehouse fire from a few months ago?”
At her words, Don Juan and the cartel bosses all stiffened. It was a painful memory for the Mechain Cartel.
Don Juan stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray and asked, “How could I forget? But why bring it up now?”
Kay swallowed hard before continuing.
“I know who orchestrated it.”
Her unexpected revelation left not only the cartel bosses but also the Syndicate’s executives in shock. This wasn’t what she was supposed to discuss.
‘Kay, what are you doing?’ the chairman signaled with his eyes.
But Kay pressed on.
“Don Juan, the incident is linked to the Favela Cartel. And… there’s a boss here who’s been colluding with them.”
One of the bosses shot up from his seat.
“What nonsense is this crazy woman spouting? Get her out of here!”
As the enforcers moved to drag Kay away, Don Juan raised a hand to stop them.
“Can you back up what you just said?”
Kay nodded slowly.
Don Juan leaned back in his chair. “Then tell us. Who’s the traitor in the Mechain Cartel?”
All eyes turned to Kay.
Just then, a gasp echoed through the room.
The sicarios, hitmen, and guards instantly turned toward the sound.
To everyone’s surprise, Zeke had a dagger pressed to the throat of El Mencho, the cartel’s second-in-command.
He addressed Don Juan in fluent Southern dialect, “A pleasure to meet you, Don Juan. My name is Zeke Moreira.”