The more important one was, the more confidently they walked, putting on a face as if they weren’t evil, as if they had never harmed a person in their life.
Peel back the layers and it was often untrue, though.
Three men walked through the Altoire warehouse district that evening and were greeted by a man in a black suit.
“Invitation, please.”
The man in the middle—the one dressed most formally of the three—silently pulled out a black envelope.
“Allow me to confirm... Do excuse me, Master Grieg.”
Grieg Klett was one of the faces of the Vanderouge underworld. Crafty and cunning, business and economics were his forte, and he owned many successful ventures both above and below board. He was a man who had fought his way to his position through smarts rather than physical prowess. By his side today were two men: One was a young but bulky man named Roa who was his right-hand man, bodyguard and most trusted confidant, and the other a man rumored to be ex-military named Oltar.
“This way.”
After confirming that all three of them were listed on the invite, the black-suit led them to a warehouse as he had been ordered. Inside were several people...
“Hey there. Been a little while, Grieg.”
...with only one man sitting at the table. He closed a book when they entered.
Although this was a warehouse, it looked more like a large living room. Although parts of the crate were visible enough to destroy the illusion, it was fully furnished. It all felt mismatched, but it worked in its own way.
“Thank you for the invitation, Kaffes.”
The man sitting down was Kaffes Jacks, ruler of Altoire’s underworld.
“The pleasure is all mine. Please, sit.”
The two of them had cooperated and argued over much in the past through their underworld connection, but their relationship wasn’t bad. They were both good with money, so they much preferred to stay on each other’s good sides—there was nothing to be gained by them clashing, whether in work or in private. The only time they would challenge the other was if they knew there was the chance of success. That mutual understanding made it much easier for them to get along.
“The martial arts tournament became a much bigger deal than I was anticipating,” Grieg admitted as he sat down across from Kaffes. His two bodyguards stood behind him, intimidating Kaffes. Not intentionally, but they were both large men in a way that they looked naturally intimidating.
That said, they were most definitely on guard—if Kaffes made one wrong move, he would immediately be attacked. But the same could be said for Kaffes’s own men. All the black-suits in the warehouse were just as wary of Grieg and his men.
The air in the room was suffocating; there was an uncomfortable tension in the air that felt as if the smallest thing could set off an explosion, like there were large quantities of gunpowder mixed into the air. The only ones pretending there was nothing amiss were the two seated in the eye of the storm. Both were authority figures in the underworld—what they lacked in physical strength, they more than made up for with incredible levels of nerve and courage.
“I’m as surprised as you are,” Kaffes said. “I’ve marveled at the sheer scale of it more than once these past few days. Apparently, investments were coming in from so many places that it just naturally grew to this size. Never mind a martial arts tournament, this is the first time I’ve even experienced any event this big.”
The topic of discussion was unsurprisingly the ongoing martial arts tournament. That was the whole reason Grieg was in the country to begin with.
“Do you mean to say it was a surprise to the hosts as well?”
“That’s what I’ve heard, but this is a state-run event. You know His Majesty—I can only imagine he’d predicted more than he’s letting on.”
This tournament was being organized by the state—in other words, the current King of Altoire, Hyurence Altoire, was taking the reins.
“True. Someone like the King of Altoire no doubt has everyone dancing in the palm of his hand right about now.”
In all the political and economic developments of Altoire so far, and now this large-scale event, there was not a single underdeveloped plan in sight. When they spoke of Altoire being a lover of peace, they did not mean it in a derogatory sense. Those who did clearly were of no threat. For those in the know, the Peace-Loving Kingdom was a compliment toward the statesmen who had maintained Altoire’s peace for all these years. Not that there were many countries or lands able to be ruled by the incompetent nowadays what with how easily their citizens could escape in this day and age.
“Would you like a drink?”
“No, thank you. There are still a few things I need to do today. I should have some time in a few days, though.”
“All right. Let us take our time while watching the losers’ matches, then.”
After discussing the days ahead in a little more detail, Grieg left the warehouse.
The moment he was in his private room, Grieg smiled. “Heh... This sounds like it’s gonna be fun.”
They had returned to the luxury hotel they would be staying in for the coming month. Grieg had booked a large family room that cost over a million krams a night, but for him, dropping that amount of money barely tickled. He had brought three more of his men in addition to Roa and Oltar who would also be staying in the same room. Naturally, he had brought more than five people on this excursion, but the rest were undercover, so they would be staying elsewhere.
“Grieg, sir, what are we gonna do now?” Roa asked while he poured some liquor from the bar counter that was part of the room—for the record, that drink was for himself.
“We will continue according to plan. I need you all to observe the losers’ matches and gather as much data about the fighters as possible. I’ll finish up our work.”
“You’re gonna work even while we’re traveling?”
“Where else do you think your food and pay’s coming from, huh?”
“Heh heh. Thanks, boss.”
“Tch.” Grieg couldn’t help but click his tongue in annoyance. Roa’s attitude was starting to get a bit too impolite, even for him. “You’re lucky you’re good at your job, kid, or you’d have been fired a hundred times over by now.”
“Ha ha ha!”
Grieg always looked solely at his men’s true potential. Even if they were a bit difficult to handle, so long as the skill was there, he would put them in positions of power.
Oltar was more than aware that whether good or evil, everything was judged based on profit and efficiency. Greig was the type of person he wished to have in charge of the army. He was a much more respectable man than the incompetents who let soldiers die out of a half-baked sense of obligatory righteousness.
“Oltar, with me.”
Grieg ignored Roa’s continuous laughter and called Oltar over—most likely to discuss something to do with their work. Their boss headed for the room he’d chosen as his own and sat at his desk with Oltar standing opposite.
“I leave you in charge while you’re all out. The priorities haven’t changed.”