While Dusk was still talking with Silas, someone else in the room clearly felt her presence was being ignored.
"Ahem."
The soft sound drew the group's attention. Everyone suddenly turned more serious. When Dusk looked over, he saw a young woman with long, fiery red hair, as vivid as living flame.
Her crimson eyes exuded an air of nobility. Though she wore a long-sleeved shirt, a few scars on her arms were still visible to him.
For some reason, the moment he looked at her, his instincts screamed that she was a battle-hardened warrior.
'There's no one else in this room... so could she be the boss? That's way too young. At her age, I was still struggling to amount to anything.'
Considering she was the only other person in the room and the way everyone reacted to her subtle cough, Dusk was convinced—she was the boss.
Suddenly, someone shoved him forward, nearly causing him to lose balance.
"What are you waiting for? Go meet the boss. She's the one who ordered us to bring you here."
Dusk nodded and stepped toward her desk. Her gaze shifted from the laptop screen to him, and in that moment, both sides began sizing each other up.
As he stood before her, neither had uttered a word when, without warning, she suddenly sprang to her feet.
She planted one foot on the desk, and from who-knows-where, she pulled out two large scythes with an incredibly menacing design, swinging both directly toward Dusk's neck. Her gaze transformed instantly, like that of a savage beast ready to rip her prey apart.
Yet Dusk's expression remained calm. He showed not even a hint of fear.
He knew—absolutely knew—that she wouldn't kill him so recklessly.
A deranged killer might slaughter someone without reason, but the leader of a mafia syndicate wouldn't.
To earn such a position, one had to be extraordinarily intelligent—and smart people didn't make foolish moves.
Just as he expected, the blades stopped a mere few centimeters from his throat.
To halt a scythe mid-swing at such high speed required immense strength and precision. Dusk now understood—this woman wasn't just strong. She was highly skilled.
Though it was hard to gauge exactly, Dusk had a gut feeling—
If they were to fight to the death, he probably wouldn't win.
Seeing that Dusk wasn't showing even a flicker of fear, the red-haired girl pouted in boredom and casually put away her twin scythes. Then, she bent down beneath the desk, rummaging for something.
'What now? Got another toy hidden down there?'
Dusk watched her movements with a puzzled expression. Whatever it was, he had no intention of being scared.
Suddenly, she once again slammed one foot onto the desk. This time, however, it was different—
Resting on her shoulder was a massive, heavy-looking bazooka.
'Holy hell. Didn't expect these people to have firepower like this. If that thing's real and fully loaded, it could be incredibly useful in the coming chaos.'
Dusk's eyes widened in genuine shock. He hadn't imagined she'd actually pull out something like that. In truth, such a weapon would be extremely handy in the near future.
But when she noticed he wasn't intimidated—in fact, he seemed almost amused—her expression turned... strange. Without warning, she leaned in and pressed the bazooka muzzle right up to his face.
"Hey, are you stupid or something? This is a bazooka, not a metal pipe."
Not only she, but the other six people were also surprised by his courage once again.
He hadn't flinched when surrounded. He hadn't backed down even when facing guns.
And now? With the mouth of a bazooka nearly kissing his forehead? Still fearless.
People who can have this kind of calmness and fearlessness in times of peace are not easy to find.
Being insulted out of nowhere, Dusk frowned. Not because he cared what others thought. But because if they genuinely saw him as some idiot, how could they possibly work together?
"What nonsense are you spouting? I'm not stupid. I'm just intrigued by your capabilities. For a mafia group to pull off something like this right in the middle of the city... That's no small feat. Maybe there's a basis for us to cooperate."
"Pfft—hahaha!"
She suddenly put the bazooka down and burst into laughter.
Dusk's brow furrowed. He'd spoken seriously. What the hell was so funny?
"Hey, what are you laughing at? What's so damn funny?"
"I'm laughing at your innocence." She smirked.
"You think you will have a chance to cooperate with me? There's only one reason I had them bring you here."
She paused dramatically, then slowly walked toward him.
Dusk's eyes narrowed, curious what she was about to do.
She placed one hand on his shoulder, her expression arrogant—exuding the aura of a sovereign—and locked eyes with him.
Dusk felt as though some kind of pressure was weighing down on him.
'Damn… this girl's presence is intense. That pressure—just from her aura alone—I can actually feel it. No wonder those people are willing to follow her.'
He marveled inwardly, though he wasn't truly intimidated. After all, this was merely the presence of a mortal.
He had once faced entities whose aura alone could snuff out the lives of the weak.
Compared to that, hers was still far inferior.
If she lived long enough, maybe—just maybe—she might one day reach that level.
"I want you to become one of my subordinates."
She declared, her voice carrying a commanding aura difficult to put into words.
"Aren't you afraid? I mean, I am currently a wanted man, after all."
Dusk didn't answer her request directly. Instead, he posed a question.
"Of course I know," she replied without a moment's hesitation. "But I believe you're valuable enough to be worth the risk."
Dusk grabbed her hand and brushed it off his shoulder.
"Sorry, but I can't join the mafia."
"Why not?" She frowned, puzzled.
Though she didn't particularly care what his reason was—when she wanted something, she'd do her best to get it—her curiosity still compelled her to ask.
"Because I'm actually… a good person. I can't accept becoming part of the mafia."
The atmosphere in the room turned strange—
And then, just a few seconds later, everyone burst out laughing.
She was no exception.
Clutching her stomach, she pointed a trembling finger straight at Dusk's face.
"Pfft—ha ha ha! You… You just said you're a good person? A wanted criminal, hunted for mass murder, says he's a good guy? Ha ha! Is this a stand-up comedy routine or what?"
She couldn't stop laughing.
She'd wanted to recruit a new soldier—
But somehow, she'd ended up bringing in a comedian.