The business was conducted in a reserved room of a bar. Most of the men dispersed; moving too many people would look suspicious. Therefore, only Gurad and Basil were accompanied by their elite fighters.
It was already early morning by the time the negotiations ended.
In the end, they agreed to split the profits sixty-forty, with Basil's side as the winner. This was fair for both; the plan to con the four companies came entirely from him.
Gurad got into his personal carriage, accompanied by two of his men.
—To be honest, I think you're giving him too much leeway. —Ferei spoke cautiously. Moments like these, when his boss was happy, were the best times to question.
—Why do you say that? —Gurad said while looking out the window. The early risers were walking to work. It was summer, so the sun shone brightly even in the morning.
—The deal is too strange. You know... why not hunt...?
—Not hunt him?
—Uh... that. Yes.
—Hm, what kind of question is that? —Gurad reproached him, a bit disappointed with his friend. But deep down he knew he couldn't blame him.
Five years ago, Ferei was just a hunter; the time he had spent in the city had been dedicated to crime, and he never had time to hone his knowledge.
Ferei became nervous and even took his time to speak.
—Well, if you hadn't accepted, you could have attacked him and earned yourself some good coin.
Gurad chuckled quietly. Sometimes he wished he didn't know how to answer that question. He wondered what it would be like to be an ordinary citizen, only worried about putting bread on the table. But the great mountains had forged him to be bold and perceptive.
—If we had attacked him, our defeat would have been assured.
Ferei swallowed hard. Before he could ask, his leader continued.
—they're powerful, but so are we. In a full-blown battle, we could win... but what then?
»We would be quite weakened. Basil is cunning; when he paid the Whisper Collectors, he indirectly informed them about a possible battle.
—Oh... I see. Sanma will take advantage of this.
—Yes. When one of them falls, that old witch will take care of the rest. This way, her group can have total control.
Damn! What a crafty bastard! The pale man could only tremble; the way they played with monsters terrified him and deep down left him enchanted.
—in times like these it's better to see the forest than the tree. —Gurad stopped looking outside. From now on, he couldn't waste time. If what you want is blood, blood will rain down, Basil.
The carriage headed towards the headquarters of the Whisper Collectors. From here on out, things would get busy for the Thorns of Desire.
***
Paul cautiously looked at Basil's back; both walked with the first rays of sunlight behind them.
—Is something wrong? —Basil asked without turning around. Paul always wondered how he could feel his gaze.
—It's nothing... it's just that you acted weird today.
—Hm... well...
They passed by a flower shop and Basil stopped. The store was half open; its owner was busy arranging flowers outside.
—Hm... how beautiful. —The young man pointed at some lovely violets. His eyes shone a little—. I want them in my office, if possible for this afternoon.
Paul rolled his eyes. Basil just looked at him as if waiting for a response. Realizing this, the small man angrily asked.
—Hey, are you serious?
—Hey, don't look at me like that. —His expression turned serious—. That office is too bland! Some good flowers wouldn't hurt it at all.
—I'm not talking about that! I asked you something a moment ago! —He shouted, but his words vanished in the wind. Basil was already buying the flowers, completely ignoring an angry Paul.
Why wait? I'll buy them right away! Basil began talking to the shop owner, who didn't receive him with much enthusiasm.
Paul could see it in the owner's expression; the annoyance in his arched eyebrows was evident. Basil bragged about how beautiful those flowers would be in his office. Unfunny jokes about how envious royalty would feel came out of his mouth, receiving back a dry laugh in return.
Paul couldn't blame him; having to endure a crazy person in the morning is not for everyone.
Hm! Nonsense! My family's flowers were more beautiful! That trinket only serves as fuel!
Paul cursed in his mind; his boss's attitude always sent him to the bar. He'd probably die of cirrhosis if he kept this up.
After Basil bought the flowers, both men continued on their way.
They crossed through a crowd of people. Some looked at them curiously while others knew how to avoid them. They didn't carry their characteristic symbol, but their hoods still raised suspicions.
The majority of citizens were not fools; they were aware of the dangers lurking in the darkness. Although Promise City was relatively safe, crimes existed just like in any other city. And as in all cities, it was impossible to eliminate crime completely.
With this idea in mind, people always ignored what seemed dangerous, "since nothing can be done to avoid it, at least let it not touch me."
Basil found that innocent idea amusing.
They have done wrong. That evil they have ignored will rise. His eyes glinted sinisterly. Today he had done bad things, and so it would be for a long time.
He turned to look at Paul. The small man was quite happy; the presence given by his hood increased his pride.
—In answer to your question, I feel a little sad. —He turned back, once again looking at the crowd—. Damino was a good boy. Gullible, but he had good intentions.
—...Ah? Excuse me? —he asked but received no answer. Basil kept walking.
Paul looked at him with many doubts in his head. His leader was too strange. After a few seconds, he decided not to bother thinking. It's impossible to understand madmen.
The more they walked, the farther they moved away from the well-kept houses. Eventually, decent-looking citizens did not surround them.
But saying they were alone would be a lie. The homeless were still there, watching cautiously.
—Well, stop looking so lost. We have to prepare for business! —An exaggeratedly serious expression appeared on his face. Then he continued in a raspy voice, similar to an old man—. My time is gold; my life is ivory.
Paul looked at him for a moment and smiled.
—Heh, I didn't know you were a follower of Celei. You're right, boss; the one who sells first sells better!
—Ha! Yes, we must prepare for war!
—Yes, for the sales war! —A laugh escaped him; Basil could be crazy but could also make him laugh.
—No, for the gang war! —Basil laughed joyfully. He discovered that Paul had a sense of humor just like his own.
—Yes, the war of ban...! —He stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed on Basil—. Sorry, I think I misunderstood you.
—Huh? The gang war; you know.—Basil looked at him confused.
—...? How? Isn't it supposed to be just about making some good sun?
Paul was as confused as Basil.
As far as he knew, the plan was to get rid of the four companies. This was with the intention of establishing businesses that worked for the gang. It wouldn't be difficult; the competition was no longer there.
Thus, Serafín Magenta would have some power in trade.
But a war? Where does that appear in the plan!? Paul's gaze became inquisitive.
In response to this, Basil thought carefully. Then he understood Paul's attitude.
—You really weren't born for the underworld. —A mocking smile formed on his face—. You don't have much vision.
—Eh!? Is that an insult!?
—Sort of.—Basil became serious—. You have much to learn.
Before Paul could ask, Basil continued.
—The war started before Gaustin fell. There, Gurad and I exchanged insults; remember?
—Hm.... Yes! You told him something about cutting off his head.
—and he told me I'm a coward.—He spoke calmly—. Although it was an act, it still had a pinch of truth. We both knew it; we took advantage of it to declare war on each other.
»A war began that consists of gaining commercial position. We will both try to obtain as much property as possible. Whoever obtains the most will gain the most power. Only then can we eliminate each other without risks.
—I... didn't realize... —Paul stood amazed.
—That's right! That's why we can't waste time! We must communicate with Sanma for an alliance!
Basil moved forward with determination; Paul followed suit and walked behind him. After a while, they had entered the slums.
Huh?
Paul looked around confused and stopped.
—is something wrong?
—Boss, um... Sanma's headquarters is in the other direction.
—Um.... Yes, I know that already.
—Then... then why are we going in another direction?
Basil stopped and turned to Paul. Then there was a strange silence between them.
—Who said we were going over there?
Didn't you say we couldn't waste time!? What does that change of attitude mean!?
Paul gave him an inquisitive look mixed with marked anger. He seemed ready to throw his life away and slap Basil.
Basil only responded with a silent chuckle.
—Hehehe, I'm just joking. We're not going straight to Sanma yet. It's better to wait for Gurad to arrive first.
Paul's confusion only increased as he looked at him with a "huh?". Basil merely showed him a silent smile and said nothing more. He limited himself to walking at a leisurely pace.
Paul resigned himself and walked silently alongside his boss. As they crossed the streets, Basil's face darkened.
He hadn't told Paul the whole truth. Killing Damino made him sad, but that wasn't the only reason. Gurad was someone exceptional, but he was his enemy. Therefore, he could only kill him. What a waste...