Dalzollene recounted what he remembered.
"A few years back, Germain was involved in some dirty work for a small-time boss who worked under the 'Ten Dons'. But later on, due to some financial disputes, he ended up killing that boss."
"The subordinates of that small-time boss have been hunting Germain ever since. They even put a bounty on him, but nobody's ever managed to collect it. The 'Ten Dons' don't really care about the life or death of such a minor character."
"However, over two months ago, Germain was rumored to be connected to the Phantom Troupe. When that news got out, his bounty spiked, and suddenly, a lot more people were interested in him."
Light nodded, understanding the situation. He paused for a moment and then asked, "Have any of our people been involved in tracking down Germain?"
Dalzollene, slightly hunched over, making him appear shorter than his boss, answered, "A while back, one of our guys teamed up with three others from the family to give it a shot. They were all killed."
"Is that so?" Light thought for a moment and then said, "Dalzollene, make sure the word gets out quietly: no one from our family is to go after Germain."
"Understood," Dalzollene replied immediately.
"And we never knew he was Germain," Light said sternly. "Tonight, I had a fight with Zenji, and I was in a bad mood, so I left Yorknew City right away."
Dalzollene seemed surprised, but then he caught on to his boss's intentions. "Of course, Zenji was really harsh with you, insulting you and threatening you. You got mad and decided to leave Yorknew City."
"Exactly," Light agreed. "So whatever happens in Yorknew City next, it's got nothing to do with us, or with Neon."
"I understand," Dalzollene replied, recalling the prophetic message they'd received earlier. He felt a chill run down his spine.
At that moment, Neon leaned out from the back seat of the car, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Dad, can we go now? I just want to go back to sleep."
Light put on a friendly smile as he got into the car. His daughter was sitting in the back seat, and he joined her there.
"I'm sorry, Neon, but we need to change our plans. We'll have to take a private airship to leave Yorknew City," he said.
Neon was clearly annoyed. "Dad, you promised me we'd stay here longer!" she protested.
"I know, but something urgent came up. We don't have a choice," Light replied.
As the car door closed, Dazoane took his place in the front passenger seat. The other guards got into the cars positioned in front and behind, forming a secure convoy. The vehicles moved in a coordinated formation, quickly merging into the traffic.
Meanwhile, Germain, who had a hotel room booked at the Bechita Hotel, decided to take a leisurely stroll along the river embankment instead of heading straight back. The river's surface shimmered like dark silk, with faint ripples catching the moonlight.
Germain enjoyed the quiet solitude, but soon noticed he was being followed. Several "rats" had picked up his trail, getting progressively closer.
He knew what they were after. In the past couple of months, he'd had to deal with more than a few stalkers. This was nothing new.
Instead of running, Germain slowed down, allowing the "rats" to approach him.
"Hey, hey, hey," a voice called out as a man with a bald head and one hand in his pocket moved in front of Germain. "You're Germain, right?"
"That's me," Germain replied, already familiar with this kind of situation. He took the initiative, hoping to cut the chase short. "Are there just six of you? Do you really think that's enough to take me on?"
The bald man, Zenji, laughed. "What? You think I'd be afraid of you just because you're part of that so-called Phantom Troupe? Get real."
Zenji's five accomplices drew their pistols, forming a semicircle around Germain, all weapons trained on him.
"Kid, do you even know what the Mafia is?" Zenji stood with his hands in his pockets, oozing confidence. "I'm a top-ranking member under the 'Ten Dons', the highest echelon of Mafia!"
"It's just that the Phantom Troupe hasn't met anyone like us yet. We're the only ones who can claim we're the 'worst band of thieves in history'? Don't be so arrogant!"
Germain didn't bother responding to Zenji. He'd seen this pattern before and knew where it was going. Soon enough, the bald guy would either demand his loyalty or simply start shooting.
It was a tired script, and if there were a "Skip" button, Germain would have pressed it without hesitation.
Just get it over with.
He summoned a meat cleaver in his palm, seemingly out of thin air, like magic. The sudden appearance of the weapon left Zenji and his gang stunned.
But just as Germain was about to act, he heard the ring of a bell from his pocket. He paused, slipping his left hand into his hunter's black robe to pull out his cell phone. The caller ID displayed "Glasses Girl."
"Hello?" Germain answered.
A familiar voice spoke from the other end, "Hi, is this Germain? It's Shizuku."
"Yeah, it's me."
"Oh, okay."
Germain stood there with a bizarre-looking Cleaver in hand, ready to strike, yet seemingly unfazed by the people surrounding him. Zenji and the others felt a wave of frustration as Germain casually took a call right in front of them, like they were of no consequence.
The audacity!
"Do you think we're all dead?"
"Damn it! How dare you look down on us!" Zenji's veins bulged with rage as he pulled the trigger, firing a barrage of bullets. "Go to hell!"
His subordinates joined in, firing their weapons at Germain from close range, confident that the sheer volume of bullets would be his end.
But Germain vanished.
The bullets struck the ground and ricocheted in all directions.
"What...?" Zenji was stunned. "Where'd he go?"
A faint "thud" came from the side, followed by something rolling across the ground. Warm droplets splashed onto Zenji's face. He turned, only to see Germain standing next to one of his men.
The subordinate had become a headless corpse, blood spurting from the gaping neck wound.
Germain nonchalantly shook the blood off his saw blade and let the body collapse to the ground while he chatted on the phone. "Yeah, I got it. No problem," he said, as if nothing unusual had happened.
Zenji's remaining men fired wildly at Germain, desperate to stop him. They abandoned any semblance of formation or discipline. The sound of gunfire echoed through the area, but Germain calmly deflected the bullets with his saw blade, then vanished again like a ghost.
When he reappeared, another one of Zenji's men lay bleeding, his arm severed at the shoulder. A second later, yet another was cut cleanly in half at the waist. Amidst the screams of pain, Zenji found himself with only two allies left.
Germain continued his conversation on the phone, his tone casual. "Did you catch that? There were some guys shooting at me... Yeah, I'll be there soon," he said, unfazed by the chaos around him.
Zenji's heart sank. He'd emptied his entire clip but hadn't even grazed Germain. He watched helplessly as another subordinate fell victim to Germain's merciless attacks. This time, Germain opened the man's abdomen, and his intestines spilled out like a burst sack.
The injured man tried to stuff his entrails back into his stomach with his hands, but it was futile. He crumpled to the ground, his eyes filled with despair.
********
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