Without another word, the blond man took out his phone and made a call.
…
At the same time, at the Chamber of Commerce Alliance Headquarters, at the president's office.
Torre had just returned to his office and hadn't even sat down when the phone rang.
He took off his leather gloves, his gaze sharp as he picked up the call. "Hey, how'd it go?"
"I quit!"
Torre frowned. He distanced the receiver from his ear and looked at the phone number that had been dialed in from the internal line. His tone was not good. "What do you—"
The other party spoke before he could finish his question.
"I also want to ask you what you mean. Why? Why do you want us brothers to die?!"
The other party was so angry.
Torre was confused. "…What are you talking about? I don't understand."
