Chapter 68
Chapter 68
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: Who Is He (4)
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A heavy silence settled inside the opulently decorated dining room.
The chandelier, large enough to summon Conan and Kim Jeon-il simultaneously if the chain broke, proudly dominated the space, brightly illuminating the refined mafia mansion.
But even that brightness couldn't dispel the awkward atmosphere between us.
"……."
"……."
It had only been a few minutes since she'd said we should talk about the reason she called me here.
Yet neither she nor I seemed inclined to take the lead in the conversation.
In the end, we naturally focused on the meal.
A table knife embossed with intricate patterns smoothly sliced through the perfectly seared steak.
With just the weight of the knife—barely 100g—the thick steak began revealing its red interior.
'Is this medium rare?'
I'd lived a life far removed from fancy places like Michelin-starred restaurants, Blue Ribbon spots, or omakase joints.
For someone more familiar with pork than beef, and fried chicken over pork, the juicy hunk of meat felt quite intimidating.
I silently tossed a cut piece into my mouth.
"…!!"
My eyes widened instantly.
It wasn't some over-the-top reaction to a master chef's dish, but an explosion of umami in my mouth.
The saying "simple is best" wasn't wrong.
This steak, grilled plainly without special ingredients or techniques, was nothing short of a work of art.
'…No, wait.'
On second thought, the "free-range beef" itself was already a premium ingredient.
In a world where cultured and synthetic meat were the norm, beef from cattle raised freely on pastures was a brand in its own right.
Honestly, before sitting down to this uncomfortable meal, I'd thought food wouldn't even register going in my mouth or nose…
The seat was uncomfortable, but the meat tasted great.
Still…
'Even if it's delicious, it's only about 10 times better.'
The joy? Barely 14-15 times.
What made this plain grilled protein chunk worth hundreds, thousands of times a $2 hotdog…?
I recalled Teacher Biscuit Oliver's famous quote and muttered quietly.
"Hotdog hard-fought victory again."
"…Huh?"
Faint classical music played in the dining room.
Thanks to that, Luciana either didn't hear my mutter or tilted her head at me.
"What'd you just say?"
"Oh, no—the food's really delicious."
"…Hm, that doesn't sound right."
Fortunately, the interrogation didn't drag on.
Just from her bored gaze, it was clear Luciana naturally hated anything bothersome.
"Yeah, the food's especially good today."
Luciana chewed on fresh cherries and quietly continued her meal.
Thus ended the modest dinner.
"Done eating? Shall we get up now?"
"Sure."
The lavish spread filling the table had all turned into empty plates.
For someone who could polish off several boxes of hotdogs without breaking a sweat, it felt a bit light, but I wasn't tone-deaf enough to order more here.
'…Gotta grab more hotdogs when I get back.'
Quantity over quality, after all.
I declared another unacknowledged victory to myself and followed Luciana out of the dining room.
Thud. Thud.
The mansion where the mafia boss lived was enormous.
To the point where the corridors felt endlessly long.
"Boss, I hope you enjoyed the meal— Wait, why the hell is this lunatic here…."
Occasionally, gang members we bumped into in the halls exchanged glances with me, either in shock or wary suspicion.
"Busy."
"…Understood."
Even toward someone who looked like an executive, Luciana's attitude didn't change much.
As we passed, I felt a stare boring into the back of my head.
Anyway.
The mansion's interior was as elegantly decorated as it appeared from outside.
'…Stuff that belongs in a museum.'
Sculptures, antiques, jewels, paintings.
I could see the mafia family's wealth at a glance.
But given neither Luciana nor I were the social type—as evident from dinner—the awkward silence persisted in the corridor too.
Thud. Thud.
I stared fixedly at Luciana's back as she walked ahead.
'She's shorter than I thought.'
I'd only seen her sitting, so I hadn't noticed.
She might even give our grocery store's cute mascot Liberra a run for her money.
(P.S. Our other mascot is 'Du.')
Of course, that didn't mean she had the same kind of cuteness as Liberra.
'All the nutrition meant for height went straight to her chest….'
Sadly, there was an insurmountable physical gap between them.
As I harbored such irreverent thoughts,
"There, that's all the artwork in the mansion. Our family's collection passed down through generations."
"…Pardon?"
We were walking just so I could look?
To my involuntary response, Luciana tilted her head nonchalantly.
"What, didn't see properly?"
"……Yeah."
I racked my brain desperately, but nothing came up.
Because I'd been staring at the back of her head the whole time, thinking stuff like 'Wanna flick her forehead….'
I settled for the next best thing.
"Well… I was gonna say the portrait of that guy in the middle was the best."
With this much art, there had to be at least one portrait.
Thankfully, my gamble paid off.
"…Oh?"
She nodded to herself, smirked, and resumed walking.
'Phew.'
I secretly sighed in relief and trailed after her like a puppy.
We soon arrived at Luciana's office.
"Sit wherever's comfortable."
I wanted to go home already, but I still hadn't heard why she'd summoned me.
Luciana deftly operated what looked like a coffee machine, then set a steaming cup on the table before me.
"Thank you."
"You said last time you like all kinds of coffee."
I desperately recalled again.
Come to think of it, I'd said something like that while drinking cappuccino on my last visit.
"…Yeah, sure."
"Hehe."
What was she dragging me here to pressure me about, anyway.
A lavish dinner.
A personal tour of the mansion.
A private meeting in her office.
My newly acquired 【Iron Mind】 trait writhed in agony.
Its proficiency rising in real-time was just icing.
If it'd been Vibranium Mind instead of Iron, maybe it'd be different.
Slurp.
Luciana seemed to savor the silence, not starting any conversation even after I'd followed her here.
Eventually, I asked her.
"…Did you call me about the Hakuga-gumi?"
"Huh?"
To my question, Luciana made an uncharacteristically puzzled face.
"…Ah, Hakuga-gumi."
She tapped the desk with a strange response.
Her reaction suggested she'd completely forgotten about Hakuga-gumi.
"Guess I should mention that too."
Like my first visit, a massive hologram screen appeared on one wall.
"Hakuga-gumi's basically done. It was a gang built on violence from the start. With even the rat that kept scurrying away dead, it won't hold together in its unstable state."
The "rat" here probably meant Bansho Takemaru.
Luciana continued in a tone utterly different from moments ago.
"That doesn't mean Area 49's power dynamics will change much. There are always plenty of scum eager to lick corporate boots. The vacancy left by Hakuga-gumi will be filled by similar vermin soon enough."
Her language had gotten rougher, but thinking back, she'd cursed freely even at our first organization meeting.
Just a slight public-private divide.
"However…."
As she gazed at the hologram, Luciana's sharp eyes turned to me.
"Gang interests aren't that simple."
"…Interests?"
"Trash gang or not, Hakuga-gumi had plenty of trash backing it."
A chilling warning.
"Corporate trash, that is."
Luciana was cautioning me, the one who'd provided the cause of Hakuga-gumi's downfall.
"Physically erasing the surveillance data was commendable. Twisting your route through the old district with a mask was smart too."
An empty coffee cup had appeared on the table sometime.
"But nothing's ever 100%. Most corps will cut ties publicly, but some will react sensitively out of pride."
Tap.
The coffee cup she touched spun in place.
I scratched my head and replied.
"…I'll be careful."
"Yeah."
But if it was just a warning, a phone call would've sufficed.
Something felt off.
'Is this really why she called me…?'
To that extent.
"Well, that's the end of why I called you this time."
Not sure if it was my imagination, but Luciana muttered on in a slightly coquettish tone.
"My schedule's getting busy. I even squeezed this in last-minute."
Indeed, a faint shimmer rippled over her eyes in real-time as she spoke.
In a world with smart chips instead of smartphones for modern folks,
She seemed to be checking her schedule via a personal UI interface.
"Dinner was great today."
Since she said she was busy, I (happily) drained my coffee quickly.
A long curve settled on Luciana's lips.
"I had fun today too."
"…Pardon? Oh, uh, yeah, me too. Fun."
The conversation felt somehow off.
I finally noticed the weirdness from Luciana's next words.
"Next time… I'll check my schedule and get in touch. See you later."
As I panicked at her casually making an un-discussed promise,
By the time I came to,
I was already in the limo heading back to the grocery store.
Thud.
The limo door closed just like when it arrived.
"We'll get you home safely."
"……."
Something was definitely off…!
Having cleared her piled-up work, Luciana stepped into the corridor and gazed at the painting on the wall.
The corridor's sole portrait was an oil painting depicting 'her likeness.'
Confirming this once more, Luciana muttered the same sentiment as last time.
"…Still so bold."
Still.
This flirting attempt wasn't half bad.
Even if it wasn't actually what Abel Anderson intended.