Episode 48
Even with a blade pressed against his second-in-command’s throat, Don Juan remained unfazed.
He leisurely pulled out a fresh cigar, lighting it with a practiced ease.
Blowing a thick cloud of smoke, he nodded towards Zeke.
“Pleasure to meet you, Zeke Murray.”
He took a deep breath before speaking again.
“It’s my birthday today, yet you bring weapons instead of gifts.”
His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it.
Zeke pressed the knife closer to El Mencho’s neck and replied, “I did bring a gift, didn’t I?”
Don Juan’s eyebrow twitched.
“Are you saying my beloved brother Joaquin is a traitor?”
Zeke yanked El Mencho’s hair, forcing him to speak.
“Come on, El Mencho. Why don’t you tell him yourself?”
Pinned under Zeke’s grip, El Mencho could barely move or speak, the threat of the blade ever-present.
‘Damn it. How did it come to this?’
El Mencho kept signaling to the hitmen across the room, urging them to use magic, aura, or assassination skills—anything to eliminate this intruder.
But the hitmen hesitated, knowing Zeke had positioned himself perfectly, minimizing their attack range and creating blind spots.
Any long-range attack would only result in El Mencho being used as a shield.
‘This guy’s a pro. Who sent him?’
Despite the tense standoff, Zeke remained calm, conveying his point with steady composure.
“If you won’t speak, I’ll show the evidence.”
At Zeke’s nod, Kay placed the prepared documents in front of Don Juan.
Don Juan slowly reached for the papers, flipping through them with a growing frown.
“Are you telling me the Pavela Cartel are the pirates of the southern seas?”
The mention of pirates stirred the bosses of the McCain Cartel.
No one from the south had any love for the southern pirates, having fought them for generations to protect their families.
Don Juan, in particular, harbored a deep grudge, having lost family to pirates. It was this vendetta that drove the McCain Cartel to pursue the Pavela Cartel to the brink of destruction.
As the truth about the Pavela Cartel came to light, El Mencho’s expression shifted.
He had known their true identity all along.
With each page Don Juan turned, his expression changed subtly, and the other bosses in the room mirrored his reactions.
After reviewing the documents, Don Juan looked up.
“I’ve seen your evidence, Zeke Murray. But if you thought this would make me doubt my brother Joaquin, you’re sorely mistaken.”
Zeke nodded.
“Of course. You’re wise and cautious, Boss.”
Don Juan felt a strange sensation, as if Zeke knew him intimately.
Then Zeke whispered something to El Mencho, causing his face to turn pale.
“How… how do you know that…?”
In his past life, Zeke held the secrets of every cartel boss.
El Mencho had a hidden young wife and daughter, whom he cherished more than his own life.
Zeke had threatened their safety if El Mencho didn’t reveal the truth.
Trembling, El Mencho finally spoke.
“Please… anything but that…”
“Then tell the truth. I swear by the gods I won’t harm them.”
In the south, a vow to the gods was an unbreakable promise. Even the most ruthless cartel members honored such oaths, fearing eternal damnation if broken.
El Mencho, shaking, lifted his head.
He looked at Don Juan and confessed.
“Boss, Zeke Murray speaks the truth.”
Don Juan’s expression hardened.
“Joaquin, are you saying you betrayed me?”
“I… I didn’t know they were the Pavela Cartel at first…”
Don Juan slammed the table, rising in anger.
“How dare you betray me!”
El Mencho stammered, “I’m sorry, Boss! I never meant to betray you! I—”
Before he could finish, Don Juan grabbed an axe from behind him and hurled it at El Mencho.
The axe split El Mencho’s head with precision.
And just like that, the second-in-command of the McCain Cartel was dead.
Don Juan approached the lifeless body, retrieving the axe from El Mencho’s skull.
Blood and brain matter splattered around, but Don Juan seemed indifferent, returning to his seat to review the blood-stained documents once more.
He glared at the syndicate’s leaders.
“You planned to abandon the McCain Cartel for the Pavela Cartel, burning the warehouse’s soma in the process.”
One of the syndicate’s leaders, trembling, fell to his knees.
“Boss! I swear, it’s not true! Please believe me!”
He pointed at Kay.
“That witch of a sorceress is behind this! It’s not true, Boss!”
But it was too late.
Don Juan’s axe cleaved the leader’s head, sending blood spraying everywhere, even drenching Kay.
She stood frozen, horrified by the brutality.
Don Juan, the human butcher, picked up his axe and turned to the other bosses.
“Who else betrayed me? Step forward now!”
“Calm down, Boss.”
Zeke approached from behind.
In his rage, Don Juan swung the axe at Zeke, who easily dodged it.
Don Juan, at best a violet knight, couldn’t touch Zeke.
Breathing heavily, Don Juan returned to his seat, snorting soma powder and downing a strong drink.
Wiping his mouth, he addressed Zeke.
“Zeke Murray! What are you? An angel sent by the gods to aid me, or a demon from hell to destroy me?”
Zeke shook his head.
“Neither, Boss. I’m a business partner with a new proposal.”
“A partner? What kind of deal do you propose, Zeke Murray?”
“The syndicate’s leaders betrayed you. But the McCain Cartel needs a distribution network. Kay and I can take over the syndicate’s role.”
Don Juan laughed heartily.
“So you want me to deal with those traitors for a new deal with you?”
“I’m suggesting a justification.”
Don Juan laughed again.
“A justification, indeed.”
He gestured to the hitmen, who dragged the syndicate leaders out of the room.
Don Juan sat back down, wiping the blood from his face and hands with a towel.
“Assuming I entrust the distribution to you, what’s in it for me?”
“I’ll help you eliminate the Pavela Cartel.”
Don Juan’s expression shifted.
“Eradicate those damned pirates from this world?”
“I’ll erase them completely in the name of the McCain Cartel.”
Suddenly, Don Juan stood and laughed maniacally.
As he laughed, the other cartel bosses joined in.
When he stopped, he looked at Zeke with a serious expression.
“Impressive, Zeke Murray. Truly. So, how do you plan to deal with the Pavela Cartel?”
Zeke replied without hesitation.
“Give me an elite force, and I’ll destroy one of their main camps. We’ll instill the fear of the McCain Cartel in them.”
Don Juan’s eyes sharpened, scrutinizing Zeke as if trying to understand him completely.
After a moment, Don Juan approached Zeke, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Zeke Murray, today you’ve impressed me with your courage and valor.”
He kissed Zeke’s forehead.
“I see no need to doubt you further. You’ve already given me many gifts.”
“As a token of our partnership, I’ll bring you a new gift, Boss.”
Don Juan nodded.
“Very well.”
He walked over to Kay, taking her hand and kissing it.
“While you make your mark on the Pavela Cartel, I’ll treat this lady as an honored guest.”
His words were gentle, but the implication was clear—Kay would be a hostage.
Unlike the startled Kay, Zeke nodded calmly.
“Understood, Boss.”
Don Juan raised his glass with a smile.
“For McCain! And for the brave warrior, Zeke Murray! Salute!”
“Salute!”
Alongside Don Juan, the other cartel bosses downed their drinks in one swift motion.
The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, the sinister whispers of conspiracy, and the damp stench of fear.
Zeke could feel it in his bones—he was back in the South.
He glanced at Don Juan, who was laughing heartily.
‘Laugh while you can. Soon enough, you’ll be caught in your own trap, struggling to break free.’
Whoosh!
Shadows flitted swiftly through the dense jungle.
The combat unit of the McCain Cartel had infiltrated the jungle territory of the Pavela Cartel.
Manuel, the unit leader, couldn’t help but be astonished as he watched Zeke running ahead of him.
‘He’s from the Central Continent, yet he’s mastered Southern martial arts so well.’
In the South, unlike the Central Continent, there was no systematic aura training. As a result, martial arts and weapon skills were more developed.
Yet Zeke moved with a speed and stealth that surpassed even the killers in Manuel’s unit.
Initially, Manuel and the others had openly dismissed Zeke, asserting their dominance. But as they ventured deeper into Pavela territory, they found themselves compelled to follow his lead.
Suddenly, Zeke signaled for them to stop.
The unit members held their breath, peering ahead from behind the trees.
A group of figures emerged from beyond the forest.
Manuel held his breath.
‘Damn it. Of all things, it had to be the Wolfmen.’
Among the beastfolk, the Wolfmen were renowned for their combat prowess. They could wield human weapons due to their bipedal form, and in close quarters, their sharp teeth and claws made them formidable opponents.
Manuel glanced at Zeke beside him.
Despite being the unit leader, he realized he was waiting for Zeke’s command.
But Zeke issued no orders. Instead, he drew a dagger from his belt and slowly stood up.
Before Manuel could stop him, Zeke swiftly climbed a tree.
Whoosh!
Using mana to harness the wind, Zeke leaped from tree to tree as if flying.
Facing a real battle for the first time in a while, Zeke felt a thrill coursing through him.
From his perch, he observed the Wolfmen below, instinctively identifying the strongest among them.
Swish!
With the sound of the wind, Zeke dropped straight down from the tree.
Swoosh!
Infusing his dagger with a blade of wind, Zeke sliced the Wolfmen leader clean in half.
Thud!
As the leader fell, split in two, the other Wolfmen warriors looked around in shock.
But it was already too late.
Swish!
Zeke moved like a shadow, swiftly dispatching the remaining Wolfmen.
“Gah!”
He targeted their throats and hearts, taking down eight Wolfmen warriors in an instant.
‘This… this can’t be happening.’
Manuel and the other unit members gaped at Zeke’s movements, their mouths agape.
Zeke nonchalantly dusted himself off and gestured for the unit to follow.
Manuel and his men moved with newfound urgency, their pace quickening.