There was quite a bit of commotion on Cadis Eros's side. Before long, bodyguards who had been dispatched quietly sneaked into the vicinity to probe the situation.
Kisho followed Amos and walked out behind Jobert, ignoring the gazes stabbing into their backs, and entered another room that the bodyguards had cleared out at top speed.
Jobert "respectfully" pushed the door open and invited the two inside, then said softly,
"Lord Eros may rest here with your friend. If there is any problem, you only need to call out once, and this subordinate will come in."
Seeing Amos nod, Jobert withdrew from the room and gently closed the door.
Once everyone else was gone, Kisho flopped onto the bed without any concern for appearances, lying there limply, and shouted,
"Ah… I'm exhausted!"
Then he sat up again and asked Amos,
"By the way, that 'Raul' you had them deal with just now… that was the butler, right?"
"Mm."
Amos also walked over and sat by the bed, his body relaxing.
He turned his head to look at Kisho and explained,
"He lived next door to Cadis with his son. When I was infiltrating, I killed his son, so there was no way I could let him live."
Amos fell silent for a moment, then slowly continued,
"Besides, the butler's prestige and status were second only to my brother's. If my brother died, he wouldn't even need a puppet Elder; he could take over himself. If I didn't get rid of him, my situation would be extremely dangerous."
Amos raised three fingers:
"First, killing him fulfills the agreement between Vester and me—ah, Vester is the one who taught us; second, this way his territory can be divided up by several others, dispersing some of the pressure on me."
He smiled, his voice dark and chilling:
"And lastly, ever since he followed my big brother's orders and threw me into the T·L Arena, I decided I had to kill him."
Kisho shrugged.
"Ah, I was just curious. You didn't need to explain it to me."
He thought for a moment, then said,
"So now… you're not really safe either, right? You really plan to go with them to the West District?"
"Correction—it's 'go back.'" Amos nodded. "That's exactly why. But don't worry, I'm not interested in the Elders' position. Once I take my things, use this identity to get a certificate that lets me leave, and take care of your matter, I can withdraw."
He smiled like a demon.
"After I withdraw, they can fight however they want."
"Your big brother really died unjustly. If he'd let you out earlier, wouldn't this all have been avoided…" Kisho complained weakly.
"Impossible. That way he wouldn't be able to eat or sleep." Amos sneered. "There's no unjust or not. If you're mixing it up here, you have to be prepared to die in the next second."
Kisho said,
"…Is this Meteor City?"
"Not just Meteor City. If you enter the mafia as a recommended thug, you also need this kind of resolve."
Amos stared at Kisho, his gaze seeming to pierce into his heart. He said seriously,
"Mafia people already treat death as part of life—whether being killed, or killing others."
"If you don't remember this, the first one to die will definitely be you."
Kisho was silent for a long time before slowly saying,
"I'll remember it."
Amos shrugged.
"That's for the best. I hope the next time I see you, you'll still be lively and kicking."
Kisho's forehead twitched.
"Don't use 'lively and kicking' to describe me!"
He thought for a moment and asked,
"So what are your next arrangements?"
Amos nodded.
"Before noon, before we went into that room, I looked for Wenide and the chairman."
Kisho tilted his head curiously.
"You had them help call room cleaning, give us an excuse for a mistake, to make sure the room we were going to wouldn't be empty. Besides that, what else did you do?"
"I asked them whether, if I succeeded, they'd be willing to come to the West District." Amos said softly. "At the very top of the East District is Chelsea Taber, then the inspection squads and the big gangs that were propped up, and only after that do they get to drink soup."
He sneered.
"But if they come to the West District, they can soar straight to the top—the forces have already been reshuffled. Who knows what they'll be reshuffled into next?"
Kisho said,
"…Did they agree?"
"Ah, why wouldn't they agree to something profitable with no risk to bear?"
Amos smiled mockingly, his tone rising.
"After returning to the East District, they'll come over to the West District in dispersed batches. The people I left in the White Eagle Association will guide them."
"Those people have all awakened Nen abilities. Plus the two who were watching me before, and myself, my side isn't so weak that we'd be completely at others' mercy. For a period of time, I won't be in danger."
"As for after that, I'll probably already be gone—what happens next is up to them."
Kisho stared at his ally, amazed, and couldn't help applauding.
"Are all you Meteor City kids this outstanding?"
Amos rolled his eyes, then said,
"Come to the West District with us tomorrow. I'll have Jobert establish a transaction with the Bankro family of Lashan Mountain and take the opportunity to send you in."
Kisho's forehead twitched.
"What do you mean 'send me in'?!"
But Amos had no intention of correcting his wording. He flopped onto the bed, closed his eyes, and said,
"Comfortable… mm, when was the last time I slept lying on a bed? I can hardly remember."
Kisho laughed.
"The last time you slept lying on a bed was the last time."
What answered him was a pillow Amos threw at his face.
...
The Next Day · Morning
Jobert knocked on the door. The two kids sitting on the bed cultivating simultaneously opened their eyes.
"Come in," Amos said.
Jobert walked in and bent slightly, asking,
"Lord Eros, shall we depart now?"
Amos exchanged a glance with Kisho and replied,
"Alright."
As the two walked out of the room, they were stopped by an unpleasant voice:
"Yo~ one night gone, and the Elder of the West District has shrunk into a little kid?"
Accompanying the voice was sharp laughter from a group of thugs and bodyguards.
Kisho lifted his eyes toward them and saw a pot-bellied middle-aged man in an ill-fitting suit staring at the two of them. The gaze that landed on them was inexplicably disgusting.
"That's Chelsea Taber?" Kisho asked softly.
"Mm." A clear look of disgust surfaced on Amos's face. "Stay away from him. This guy is even more annoying than my brother… and that man from that night."
Kisho instantly understood which "man" Amos meant, then said in understanding,
"Then he really is extremely annoying."
Jobert, walking in front, turned back and looked at Amos as if seeking instructions.
Amos slowly turned to meet Chelsea Taber's gaze, ignoring the ferocious grin on his face, and said calmly,
"Looks like Elder Taber's information is a bit outdated. I thought you'd be the first to get the news—the Elder of the West District has changed."
Chelsea Taber paused slightly. The smile on his face faded a little. He stared at Amos for a long while, then curled his lips.
"Ah, so that's how it is? Then please take care of us in the future, new Elder. Hahahaha!"
Amos sneered once and turned to Kisho.
"Let's go."
"Heh…" Chelsea Taber stared at the two retreating figures, the corner of his mouth lifting into a chilling arc.
...
An hour and a half later, everyone successfully returned to the western area, to the castle of the Eros family located in District Three.
After dismissing everyone else, Amos led Kisho straight to the door of a locked room on the second floor of the castle.
Amos stopped outside the door. He gazed at it, lightly raised his hand and placed it on the lock, then yanked hard—
The lock snapped with a sound. Amos pushed the door open—
Judging by the furnishings inside, this was a little boy's room.
"Want to come in and take a look?" Amos turned his head to Kisho. "This is where I used to live."
Kisho heard the slight tremor in Amos's voice, but pretended he hadn't noticed, smiled, and said,
"Sure."
The two kids walked into the room.
The walls were covered with all kinds of graffiti. Many sheets of draft paper filled with blocks of color and lines were casually scattered on the floor.
On the bed in the center of the room, covered in dust, quilts and pillows were piled messily together, with many children's clothes spread over them.
"This thing is supposedly pretty valuable. I'll give it to you."
Amos casually walked to the bed, reached under the pillow, pulled out a box, and tossed it to Kisho. Then, as if well-practiced, he walked to a desk in another corner and began rummaging through drawers and boxes.
"What's this?" Kisho asked as he opened the box.
Inside was a water-blue stone about half the size of a fist.
"No idea. I forgot which day my old man gave it to me when he was drunk, said it was something like… liquid titanium ore?"
While searching, he said,
"According to him it's quite valuable. If you go out, you'll definitely need money, so just trade it for cash to spend."
Kisho said,
"…How much could this thing be worth? Enough for a month's food? When I said goodbye to the Troupe back then, I think I even said some harsh words, like… I'd definitely repay what I owed…"
Amos was clearly not paying attention to Kisho, and his reply was extremely perfunctory.
"Probably."
He put all his focus back on what he was looking for, muttering,
"Ah, so troublesome. Where did I put it back then?"
Kisho said nothing.
In the end, Amos lay flat on the floor, shoved his hand into the gap between the desk and the wall, his face squashed out of shape, and finally fished out a box from the crack—
Colored pencils?
Kisho looked at him, and at the thing in his hand, with mixed feelings.
"You… went through all that just to find this?"
"Yeah. Everlasting colored pencils. A birthday gift from my dad for my fifth birthday."
Amos opened the box and carefully checked it. Seeing that none of the colors were missing, a satisfied look appeared on his face.
Kisho said nothing.
"Oh, and this too. A comic my mom gave me the same day. Signed by the artist himself—supposedly only ten copies were released worldwide."
Amos nudged his chin toward a comic book on the desk.
"The day my dad died, my brother immediately had me captured, packed into a box, and thrown into the arena. I didn't even have time to take these things."
Kisho said nothing.
Kisho said,
"Your brother really did die unjustly—if I were your brother, I'd be so pissed I'd crawl back to life just to die again."
Amos ignored him, rolled his eyes, gathered the comic and the colored pencils together, lifted his hand carefully, and brushed the dust off them.
The next second, his expression changed drastically, a faint light flashing through his eyes.
Kisho immediately frowned when he saw this.
"What's wrong?"
"I…" Amos fell silent for a moment, then slowly said, "My Nen ability… seems to have appeared."
Kisho said,
"…?"