Baccano! - Volume 19 - Chapter 12

Chapter 12 The Quiet Man Doesn’t Lose His Cool

Somewhere in New York The basement of Coraggioso, a jazz hall

“It might get rough, huh?” muttered Berga Gandor, one of the Gandor Family’s top executives. His younger brother, Luck, had just given him a report.

Once his initial surprise went away, Berga grinned. “Well, hey, bring it on. Hell, that building looks flimsy. Let’s crush it and them both.”

The jazz hall was run by the Gandor Family, one of New York’s small mafia outfits. However, their office was in its basement, and in practical terms, it was their headquarters.

In a room in its depths, Luck Gandor—one of the three brothers who ran the syndicate—had just reported the events of the previous night. Although he’d pulled an all-nighter, he showed no sign of drowsiness. Instead, he gave them an extremely logical summary of what had happened at Firo’s casino and what they could predict from that information.

“Let’s grab all the roscoes we can find, starting now! The only pain would be running out of slugs! I mean, c’mon, there’s a lotta Runoratas!” In sharp contrast to his coolheaded younger brother, Berga was filling the room with promises of violence.

“Calm down, Berga.” Reprimanding his middle brother, Luck went on talking to Keith, the oldest. “The elixir of immortality seems to be involved here. However, Firo’s attitude toward that Melvi fellow was… How should I put it…? A little odd. The man was normal at first, but as he was leaving, he passed Maiza. Maiza said something, and in that moment, his expression changed.”

“What? That Melvi fella is Maiza’s friend?” Berga asked.

Luck shook his head. “No… From what I saw later, that didn’t appear to be the case… There may be some history between them, though. Something to do with the immortals.”

“Like it matters whether it’s about immortals or not. If they try to rumble with us, we’ll stomp ’em flat—that’s all! Right, Keith?!”

“……”

Keith was listening to his younger brothers’ conversation in silence. However, his eyes were as sharp as well-honed knives, and a glare from them would have been enough to petrify an ordinary thug. He didn’t express an opinion, but the intimidation he was radiating overawed Berga, who dialed it down on reflex. “Hey, whoa, don’t look so scary, Keith. I get it, all right? I’ll hear him out all the way to the end.”

Luck chose that moment to scold his brother further. “The business about immortality is a fairy tale, Berga. Even if that’s why we’re getting dragged into a fight, we won’t have an excuse to give the other organizations if we go to war with the Runoratas.”

“…This sounds like a pain in the ass.”

“It could be worse. Big syndicates can’t even avenge their own without permission.”

In America at the time, after Al Capone’s arrest, whole organizations had decided to go underground. As a result, there were strong horizontal connections between syndicates, and a network known as Cosa Nostra, run by charismatic big-time gangsters, was growing larger than ever before.

Trouble between outfits was strictly monitored. In some cases, even if a member of a syndicate was killed, the syndicate had to get permission from the surrounding organizations before they made his killer pay the blood price. In the midst of that situation, while gangs that had always been powerful, like the Runoratas, were one thing, it was extremely unusual for small outfits, like the Gandors and the Martillos, to hold on to their places in Manhattan.

“On the other hand, I doubt the Runoratas want to quarrel with New York’s Five Families, either. While things may very well get rough, I think they’ll keep it below the surface. Neither we nor they have made pacts with any other mafia outfits. If either of us draws too much attention, we’ll be targeted by the police. The Bureau of Investigation hates the very sight of the mafia. No doubt they’d like to crush any likely-looking target and move on from there.”

“……”

Turning his head from Luck, who was going on and on, to Keith, who stayed silent, Berga ground his teeth. “Then what are we supposed to do, huh?!”

“We’ll just have to ride it out with the cards in our hand. That’s what we’ve always done… Including the last time we tangled with the Runoratas,” Luck said, looking away slightly.

He was harboring a worry he didn’t want the others to see.

“The cards in our hand,” hmm? Our greatest blunder…is that the Runoratas have Claire, our joker.

Luck was going to have to tell his brothers about that, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Their childhood friend had gone over to the enemy. Worse, they’d lost the most powerful card they knew of, which ensured that their position would be weak.

However, Luck was aware he couldn’t just keep quiet about it, so he steeled himself. “By the way, there’s one more important matter.”

“……”

“Huh? Well, spit it out.”

Prompted by his brothers’ gazes, Luck began to explain. “That Melvi fellow has a troublesome bodyguard…”

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“Boss, got a minute?”

The voice belonged to a man who’d been on standby in the office. They’d told him they were in a meeting, so if he was interrupting, it was probably something urgent.

“What is it?” As Luck spoke, he put on the hard-boiled mask he showed everyone but his brothers.

Timidly, the man made his report. “Uh, you’ve got a guest… He says he’s a messenger from the Runorata Family. What should I tell him?”

The brothers exchanged glances.

“Is he alone?”

“No, uh, he’s got a bodyguard with him…”

The word bodyguard sent a warning through Luck’s mind. The complicated expression on the messenger’s face transformed that hunch into certainty. Before Luck could say anything, his suspicions were confirmed.

“And that bodyguard is… Uh, he’s somebody you know, boss.”

A minute passed, and then the visitors walked in.

“Hey, it’s been a while. For Keith and Berga anyway. For you, Luck, it’s…what, about six hours? You don’t look so great. Did you not sleep or something?” Claire—Felix—was wearing a gleaming, healthy-looking smile.

Luck put his index fingers against his temples. “If my color isn’t good, it’s because of you, Felix.” Then, glaring at him through half-closed eyes, he outlined the situation rather ironically. “I was just about to tell Keith and Berga about this.”

Then Luck turned his gaze to the fearlessly smiling man behind Claire.

Melvi greeted them with a courteous bow. His expression was the same one he’d worn the day before.

It wasn’t clear whether Claire was paying attention to the guy behind him. He responded to Luck’s sarcasm nonchalantly. “Oh yeah, that’s right. Sorry ’bout this, Keith and Berga. The Runoratas hired me. In other words, depending on how things pan out, I could end up being your enemy.”

“……”

Apparently, Keith had suspected as much from the moment they walked in together, because he said nothing.

In contrast, Berga yelled, his veins bulging. “What the—?! Claire, you bastard, what the hell is this?! There’s no way you don’t know what it’s like between us and the Runoratas!”

“Well, hold the phone. I got hired by that big palooka Gustavo once before, remember? Even if it was just to track somebody down. Besides, you don’t have a beef with the Runoratas right this minute. Also, it’s Felix, not Claire.”

Claire’s reply was terribly irresponsible, and this time Berga was the one rubbing his temples. “Tch… Dammit, you’re as impossible to predict as ever!”

“Well, if a fella like you read my moves, Berga, I think I might be all washed up as a human being.”

“……Ha!”

“Ha! Ha! Ha!”

For a moment, they laughed at each other, and then—

Berga took a swing at Claire, and the childhood pals launched themselves into a ferocious brawl.

“Once they start, it takes a bit before they’re finished. This way, please.”

Ignoring the other two, who were flipping tables and tearing up the place, Luck invited Melvi into the small room they used for meetings.

“Are you sure you don’t need to stop that?” Melvi glanced at the fight.

“We’re used to it,” Luck told him indifferently. “Don’t worry about your security, either. If we were to turn a gun or a knife on you with lethal intent, even in the middle of his fight, he’d do something about it.”

“You seem to have an extraordinary amount of trust for Felix.”

“Both as an enemy and an ally, there aren’t many people whose abilities are as trustworthy as his… Provided you set aside his character issues for the moment.” Luck wasn’t joking; he meant that sincerely.

“Is he trustworthy as a friend you’ve known since childhood?”

“I’m not partial to using the word trust as a gauge for old friends.”

Restraining each other with words, Keith, Luck, and their guest Melvi sat down at a round table.

Luck took another close look at Melvi, but there didn’t seem to be anything strange about the man. He didn’t have the tough-guy exterior or the unique air of intimidation that denizens of the underworld tended to have. However, his very mildness was unsettling.

Well, if you only go from appearances, Firo doesn’t look like a Camorra executive… And I can’t really talk about others.

In contrast, Keith had the sharp air of an obvious mafia big-timer, while Berga looked like a classic fighter. Envying his brothers, Luck broached the main topic. “And? What are you plotting, Melvi?”

“…Plotting? That’s a bold word to use at a first meeting.”

“I believe we met at the Martillo Family’s casino yesterday evening.”

“We didn’t speak.” Apparently, he had noticed Luck. Melvi kept a smile on his face, but from experience, Luck guessed that smile was there to hide what he really felt.

“I beg your pardon. You did speak with Firo Prochainezo, the manager of that casino. From what I saw of that exchange, I feel I must view anything you say with skepticism.” After phrasing himself in a roundabout way, Luck narrowed his eyes and let him have it. “You are a Runorata, but you didn’t come as Bartolo Runorata’s proxy, did you? That alone is enough to justify caution.”

“What makes you think I wasn’t Mr. Runorata’s proxy?”

“Exposing the dealer for his important casino event to another organization? The don would never be so foolish.”

“…Well said.” Smiling wryly, Melvi crossed his legs, shifting his posture slightly. Even though his attitude was arrogant, his tone stayed polite. “And you’re correct. I have no way to argue. It’s true that I’m here of my own will, not as a member of the Runorata Family.”

He confessed this easily, but it wasn’t out of confusion or anxiety. “I apologize for the delayed introduction, Keith and Luck. My name is Melvi. Let me cut to the chase: Would you make a pact with me?”

It was as if he’d intended to disclose his intentions all along. He’d casually brought up the subject with an easy smile.

“…A pact? Not with the Runorata Family but with you as an individual?” Luck asked.

“Yes, a pact between myself and the Gandor Family.”

“You don’t look like you’re joking. What sort of pact do you mean?”

For the first time, Melvi’s expression changed. That said, only his smile dimmed slightly. “This is going very smoothly.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, no. It’s just that the idea of a stripling like myself proposing a pact with a syndicate is rather ridiculous. I’d imagined you would draw your guns and rage at me for my insolence.”

“Your fantasy should have continued until you were shot. Although, even that wouldn’t be far enough.”

“Oh? Then how far should I have let my fantasy take me?”

Luck responded to Melvi promptly, his face still blank. “Well, it’s quite simple. Imagine rusty scissors, if you would.”

“…Rusty scissors?”

“Now visualize the cruelest possible method of inflicting pain on a human body with those scissors, something you would never want to experience personally. I believe that would be enough,” Luck said smoothly.

“So that’s your angle. Here I was, ready to retort with ‘Oh, is that all?’ to whatever you had in mind, but I didn’t think you’d tell me to picture specifics.”

“Yes, I thought you’d have that sort of personality, so I was rather unkind about it. My apologies.” Luck spoke in a perfunctory tone that held absolutely no remorse.

However, Melvi didn’t seem particularly offended. He was still smiling. “Well now, Luck. It looks as though you and I speak the same language. That’s a great help. You’re not an impulsive type like that Martillo, Firo.”

“Don’t forget that people who see themselves in another often tend to dislike them… And? What are the details of this pact?”

“Whoops. We got sidetracked, didn’t we? Beg pardon.” The man was friendly to an unnatural degree; he had the air of a con artist who’d come to sell them some sketchy insurance.

The noise from Berga and Claire’s fight filtered in from outside, but as they dealt with this alien factor, both Luck and Keith kept up their guards.

They’d already noticed one thing.

Melvi called himself a member of the Runoratas, but he didn’t actually belong in this world.

He might be an outsider who’d stumbled into the bloody underworld, but he definitely wasn’t an innocent civilian, either. As the man spoke, he seemed to be observing everything around him from a spot just outside the world itself. Luck still hadn’t figured him out.

Melvi gazed into Luck’s eyes from beneath his own lowered lids. “The pact is a simple one. It’s a nonaggression pact.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m speaking literally. Personally, I—not the Runorata Family—am Firo Prochainezo’s enemy. However, I’m not hostile toward you.”

“That’s—”

“I’m well aware of your ties to him, of course,” Melvi interrupted. “From the way it looked last night, he seems to know my bodyguard as well.” Melvi had seen through them completely.

However, Luck and the others were in regular contact with Claire, and they had no reason to shrink from his confidence.

“That makes this easy, then. Go home.”

“For the sake of the Gandor Family’s men, I think you should hear me out.”

“If our men could get dragged into this, we wouldn’t be talking with you as an individual. From that point on, the matter would be between us and the Runorata Family.”

“…What I’m talking about has nothing to do with the Runoratas, you know.” Melvi stole a sidelong glance at the oldest Gandor brother, but Keith said nothing. He didn’t seem inclined to make any particular contribution to the conversation.

Luck spoke for his brother as well. “Even if it’s a private affair, you still belong to the Runorata Family. I don’t know who you really are or what you’re after, but that is fact. Your identity doesn’t concern me. However, that is the world you are standing in. If you are too foolish to understand that, then talking with you any longer will be a waste of our time.”

“Let me turn that around for you, Mr. Luck Gandor.” Melvi narrowed his eyes slightly. “You are the ones who are misreading your position.”

“Oh?”

“Traditions between mafia syndicates? Omertà? Revenge? Families? Worthless. I’m telling you, those limited, human—”

At that point, he abruptly broke off.

In the middle of his long speech, Melvi’s gaze had suddenly shifted to something outside the room. Luck turned to see what he was looking at, and in that instant, Melvi launched himself off the floor. Knocking his chair over backward, moving like a carnivore going after its prey, he sprang up from the floor, leaping off the table and walls of the small room—and, having circled the table in the most dramatic way possible, he touched down behind Luck.

“…!” Hearing the noise, Luck began to move on reflex. Whether by coincidence or by design, Melvi had pushed the table when he’d kicked it, and it prevented Luck from standing up.

Luck’s initial response had been delayed; as if mocking him, Melvi’s right hand reached for his head.

In that moment, Luck turned around, and his eyes met Melvi’s. The man had been hiding his true intention earlier, but there was no missing it now.

Unfortunately, there was nothing Luck could do.

The past A conversation between Czeslaw and Firo

“Say, Firo… That red-haired guy, Felix—or Claire? Is he a friend of yours?”

“Huh? Czes, have you met Claire?”

“Um, briefly.”

“Hmm… He grew up in the same apartment building as me and the Gandors. He’s not a bad guy… Uh, well, in terms of his work, I guess he technically is. But I’ll introduce you one of these days.”

“N-no, don’t! Whatever you do, don’t introduce us, please!”

“?”

“Never mind that. By Gandors, do you mean the Gandor Family syndicate nearby? You sure know some incredible people, Firo.”

“Yeah, I guess… Actually, I’m a Martillo Family executive myself, technically. Not that I should be bragging about that to kids.”

“……Yes, well, don’t worry about that. Go on.”

“Old Mr. Gandor took care of me, too, so of course I thought I’d join the Gandor Family. When I was making trouble in town, though, Yaguruma knocked me down, and Maiza and Ronny helped me out. When I met old Molsa, at first I was so scared I was shaking. Well, one thing led to another, and I decided to dedicate my life to the Martillo Family.”

“Is that right…”

“Keith and the others were against it at first, but Claire interceded. They finally came around.”

“…So he’s capable of acting as a mediator.”

“? Did something happen?”

“It’s nothing. Or wait… When you said ‘interceded,’ did you mean by force?”

“Oh… Yeah, Claire’s tough in a fight, but he’s not the type to make us listen to him. He and Berga were constantly having fistfights, but anyway. Berga always lost those.”

“I bet.”

“……”

“What’s wrong?”

“Czes, Claire is tough, and that’s a fact. He’s got better muscles and more guts than anybody around. But being a tough fighter or being good at killing doesn’t mean being strong as a person.”

“?”

“Claire and Berga’s fights could get intense sometimes, and lots of those times they’d end up hitting Luck or me by accident.”

“That must’ve been terrible.”

“And when they were that worked up, there was just one guy who could shut them down.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. There’s only one.

“He can stop Claire dead in his tracks, even if without the brawn to fight him. He’s incredible.”

The present The basement of Coraggioso, a jazz hall

“!” “…!”

Luck’s and Melvi’s eyes widened at the exact same time.

A keen-eyed man was standing between them.

“……”

Keith Gandor was as silent as ever.

What he’d done was extremely simple.

He’d grabbed Melvi’s wrist as he reached for Luck’s forehead, stopping him right before his fingers connected.

“Ghk…”

The pressure on his wrist erased Melvi’s smile, and a little groan slipped out. Keith wasn’t squeezing that hard, and on top of that, he was using his left hand. Even so, Melvi briefly feared the bones in his wrist would be crushed. He was intimidated.

Without saying a word and with no hesitation, Keith reached for Melvi’s head with his right hand.

“?!”

Understanding what Keith was about to do, Melvi tried to escape by kicking him in the stomach, but the other man twisted lightly away to avoid it.

“……”

Keith still hadn’t spoken, but the sharp light in his eyes showed his intentions several times more eloquently than words.

It was pure retaliation.

An eye for an eye.

A tooth for a tooth.

A blade for a blade.

A lie for a lie.

And death for death.

Finally, Melvi saw it.

Luck, the one he’d decided was the cleverest, wasn’t the one he should have been the most concerned about. It was the oldest brother, the one who’d never said a word but never let his guard down.

By the time Melvi realized this, though, it was too late.

He had never felt so close to death at the hand of another. The threads of impending doom coiled around him from head to toe, fine as cobwebs and tougher than steel, and it felt as if they were trying to rip his soul apart.

That illusion swept over Melvi in less than a second.

He was about to be killed by his intended victim with comical ease, he knew, but before there was a chance of that, they were interrupted by the sound of breaking glass.

A heavy marble ashtray crashed through the window, zipping straight toward Keith’s right hand.

Keith stopped reaching for Melvi’s forehead and caught the ashtray instead. He was in a bizarre position: His right hand held the ashtray, and his left restrained Melvi’s right wrist.

From outside the room, a laid-back voice called to him.

“Whoa, hold it—that’s far enough. Okay, Keith?” Claire had temporarily put his fight with Berga on hold and was waving at them through the broken window. “I’m technically the guy’s bodyguard. I’m contractually obligated to protect him so he doesn’t die.”

“Hey, Claire, what the hell are you lobbing ashtrays at…? Huh?”

Berga, who’d moved to grab Claire from behind, finally registered what was happening in the room.

“You slimy bastard! Whaddaya think you’re doing to Keith and Luck?!”

As Berga started barreling toward the door, Claire neatly tripped him.

“Whoa?!”

Sketching a clean arc, Berga went through a half-rotation and face-planted on the floor.

“Slow your roll, fella. Keith and Luck aren’t hurt. Let’s hear him out first.”

“Gwough… Claire, you gink!”

“Sorry, sorry. Also, it’s Felix, not Claire.”

Berga was writhing and holding his face. After responding to him in a laid-back way, Claire looked into the room again. “Hey, Melvi.”

“What is it, Felix?”

“Well, for starters, apologize to Keith and Luck. ASAP.” Claire was smiling.

“…Huh? What did you just say?” Melvi gave him a troubled smile of his own.

“I dunno what happened. The thing is, Keith’s obviously out for blood, which means you did something to set him off. Keeping you alive is my job, so I’ll do that. However, as their family, I’ll also tell you this.” Claire’s face went completely blank. “Apologize.”

“……”

For his part, Melvi had found his dauntless smile again. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke. “I’m terribly sorry about that. Even if I was only joking, I tested you, and it was very rude. Please forgive me.”

He’d apologized with unexpected frankness, but both Luck and Keith knew that most of what he’d said was false.

A moment ago, he’d genuinely meant to kill them.

And because he’d revealed as much while reaching for their heads with his right hand, one of the mysteries about him had been solved.

An immortal…

Luck’s eyes turned grim.

If it hadn’t been for his brother, he would have been dead. He was aware of this, but as he spoke to Melvi, he didn’t betray the slightest sign of agitation. “…Whether or not we forgive you, as long as Felix is protecting you, all we can do is sit here and let you walk out. Simply allowing you to escape would damage our reputation, though, so let’s put it this way: It doesn’t bother us. How fortunate for you.”

“I’ll accept your kindness and take my leave for today. My guard seems to be a double-edged sword. The wall between myself and my enemies is too thick, and I can’t strike a blow, either.” Lips still curved in a smile, Melvi glared coldly at Claire. Then he turned to Luck and Keith, bowed as courteously as a butler, and left the room.

The Gandor men had been watching the scene play out from a distance, and as Melvi started for the stairs that led aboveground, they moved to block his way. However, Luck made them let him through with a gesture.

“I’m looking forward to the party in February, Gandors.”

With that last brief remark, still smiling, Melvi disappeared up the stairs.

“Huh? What, we’re leaving already?” Claire started to follow him, then turned back to Keith and the others. “Sorry ’bout that. Guessin’ that wasn’t fun for you, huh. Nasty piece of work, isn’t he?”

“If you’re just going to apologize, don’t guard him in the first place, please.”

“Yeah, seriously, I’m sorry. But listen, it’s for love, so tough it out for just a little.”

He’d started up the stairs while he was still apologizing, but then he paused and murmured one last thing.

“See, once my contract’s up, I’m taking that guy on a real thorough tour of hell.”

One minute later In the meeting room

“…So what did he come here for anyway?”

Berga had been left out of the loop, but Luck couldn’t give him an answer. He knew if he told him the wrong thing, Berga just might make a beeline for the nearest place with Runorata connections and slug his way in. That’s just how he was.

Melvi—that man didn’t come here to talk with us. He came to massacre us. That has to have been his goal.

Which of them had Claire actually saved?

Had Keith genuinely intended to eat Melvi?

If Melvi really could “eat” them, then it meant he wasn’t a failed immortal like Dallas but a human who’d drunk the genuine elixir of immortality.

His older brother was as silent as ever. His extreme reticence seemed to have grown even more pronounced in the past few years.

Either way, Luck thought there was no point in guessing at the answers. He murmured to himself, “…We may need to bolster our numbers.”

That drew a reaction from Berga. “Huh? What’re you talking about? I’m plenty, and you know it.”

“If they hit two places, you won’t be able to cover both,” Luck refuted and explained what he was thinking. He spoke loudly enough that Keith could hear from a short distance away. “I know our men aren’t soft, of course. I believe they’re just as good as the Runorata soldiers. However, they aren’t used to dealing with…aberrations like that man—people who don’t use the mafia’s methods. Put briefly, if two or more people like Felix show up, our fragility will be exposed.”

“C’mon, like there’s anybody else like Claire out there!”

“I hope you’re right, but in point of fact, he’s gone over to the enemy this time.”

“Argh! That rat!” Berga smacked his fist into his palm.

Luck knew this was the sign that his brother had stopped thinking, so he gathered his own thoughts a bit more before continuing. “Of our executives, Nicola’s the best at rough work. However, he still has some damage from the lead poisoning after he got shot up the year before last, so we can’t push him too hard. Given that, the member who’s most suited for this is…”

At that point, he hesitated. He really didn’t want to admit who it was. Luck would have liked to end the conversation there, if at all possible.

Just then, a clear voice echoed from the stairs.

“I’m hoooome! That was an easy-peasy job, amigos! All I did was slice off two fingers, and he cried and gave back the money! What a great guy!”

Despite the frightening content of her words, the woman had a chipper tone. Luck pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.

“If she’s the only option we have, that means there’s something wrong with our organization.”

Luck suddenly fell to thinking. Remembering the past, he muttered to himself:

“In for a penny, in for a pound… I suppose it could work…”

In an alley

“You weren’t in there all that long. Did you get your business taken care of?”

“Mm-hmm. Thanks to you, Felix, it was a fool’s errand.”

“That’s great. Wasting time is good for the soul; helps you blow off steam.” Claire grinned and nodded, unfazed by Melvi’s feigned gratitude.

Watching him out of the corner of his eye, Melvi thought, Still, I didn’t expect that. I thought they were oblivious about their own immortality, but…they even seemed to know about our right hands.

The mafia are surprisingly tricky customers.

With a little sigh, he issued instructions to his bodyguard. “I’ll return to the villa for today. Once we’re there, you may go home as well.”

“Really? If you’ve got time to kill, I could show you around town.”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Personally, I’d rather not see very much of you.”

“What a coincidence. If this wasn’t a job, I’d be grinding you down on a railroad track.”

They both made pointed, disturbing remarks with smiles on their faces.

Without another word, they got into the car that was waiting outside.

After that car had pulled away—

Several men poked their heads out of an alley.

“That’s the Gandor Family’s office, for sure?”

“Yes. We ID’d it earlier, the time they went to the mattresses with Gustavo.”

“…They’re even letting that new punk handle negotiations with other families?”

“Nah, he’s just a dealer. I can’t see him having that much authority…”

Even as the man spoke, another guy’s hand closed around his throat.

“Gack… Gwah…!”

“‘Just’ a dealer? Did you just call Miz Carlotta’s job ‘just’? Huh? Can you do it? Can you swindle one red cent out of a casino pigeon? Huh?”

“Ghk… S-sorry…” Tears filled the coworker’s eyes.

Shoving him away, the man snarled, “That prick waltzed in and stole Miz Carlotta’s chance to shine as a dealer right out from under her! That fishy greenhorn can’t keep doing whatever the hell he wants!”

“But listen… The boss made that call,” a third man reminded him.

The guy got himself under control. “…Yeah, that’s right. That’s why we’ve been keeping an eye on him, waiting for him to slip up. Although, I never thought he’d show his true colors this fast.”

“Are we gonna report him to the boss?”

“Nah, we’ll make him disappear. On a riverbed, say, or into some dog’s belly.” He wore a menacing smile, as hateful as his remark. “If we wait until people start making noise about it, then say we saw him visit the Gandors’ office, we can make it look like he was their spy.”

Then he made one more foolishly fearless and woefully uninformed remark.

“Then we can just pin all the blame on that ginger bodyguard of his.”

In the car

Unaware that this dangerous conversation was occurring after he’d left, Melvi was thinking something even more dangerous than the men who’d been shadowing him.

So I couldn’t get the Gandors. Well, what’s done is done. I’ll wait until the day of the casino opening…then kill them off slowly.

He turned his face toward the window, closing his eyes, so the bodyguard who sat next to him couldn’t read his expression. Behind his eyelids, he pictured the young guy he’d met the previous day.

Firo Prochainezo, huh? He didn’t look like a big deal. He sneered, and then hatred welled up inside him. So that two-bit loser got Szilard’s memories? He has those memories, and he’s still letting himself rot away in a dinky mafia casino?

Ironically, the reason behind his hate was the same as that of the Runorata men who were watching him.

There wouldn’t be much fun in simply “eating” him. Until the day of the casino event, I’ll consume everything from his world bit by bit. Then when I’m done, I’ll experience his agonies vicariously—as my own memories…

As he indulged in this bizarre fantasy, he smiled out the window.

That should be its own kind of fun.

Unlike his well-practiced smile, this one was genuine.

All right…I wonder how many of his acquaintances will disappear today.