Chapter 61: The Price of the Cake

It was foggy.

Emerging from the meeting place, Red frowned, observing the thick fog that now blanketed the streets.

The fog was dense, already impairing visibility, yet it did not falter Red’s stride.

As he walked along the deserted, pitch-dark road, Red’s brow remained furrowed.

The evening’s discussion had not gone smoothly.

In his estimation, Karna City was a cake—a vast cake, so substantial that one could effortlessly extract considerable profit from it.

Red recalled a person he had ‘dealt with’ long ago. That individual wasn’t a casualty of the underworld’s struggles, but merely an ordinary person ensnared in the conflict.

Once drawn in, there was no escaping.

Red had personally ended that person’s life. He still remembered how, in their dying moments, they had glared at him, gritting their teeth as they spoke.

“If you view Karna City as a cake, then you are nothing but worms gnawing at it.”

“The streets and alleys of Karna City—they are all hollowed-out passages, outwardly gleaming but inwardly decayed, carved out by parasites like you.”

The person seemed poised to say more, but Red granted them no such opportunity. A thin blade swiftly silenced them, forever sealing their lips.

Red paid little heed to their words. ‘Worms’ or not, the crucial point was the cake’s profitability.

However, even the largest cake had its limits. This inevitably led to friction between various factions vying for slices.

Fortunately, profit reigned supreme, and any negotiable gains rarely escalated into outright armed conflict.

The problem, however, was that tonight’s negotiation of interests had been far from successful.

He and another powerful gang had been discussing the division of territory for some time, yet without any definitive outcome.

Recently, two of Red’s most trusted subordinates had mysteriously met their end in a narrow alley. Despite extensive investigation, Red had uncovered no conclusive leads.

Nevertheless, he suspected that the other major ‘worms’ were behind it. This was hardly surprising; the methods for carving up the cake naturally extended beyond mere negotiation.

Eliminating an opponent’s key figures was a common tactic. Red wasn’t particularly concerned whether his two subordinates lived or died. He cared more about whether they had divulged anything before their demise.

After all, their joint ventures with him went far beyond simply dividing a cake.

During tonight’s conversation, Red had subtly probed the other party about the incident, yet he had gleaned no useful information.

The other side seemed to have detected Red’s probing and had not engaged in genuine discussion. Thus, tonight’s ‘negotiation’ was more accurately described as two factions cautiously testing each other.

“Tsk.”

Red let out a sound of dissatisfaction from his throat, casually spitting on the ground.

It mattered not. If discussions truly reached an impasse, he still held a ‘trump card’—one that had long secured his position in Karna City.

The fog seemed to thicken even further than before, deepening the lines in Red’s brow until the scar on his face appeared somewhat distorted.

Apparently seeking a shortcut, Red began to weave through the labyrinthine alleys of Karna City.

The city’s paths were indeed notoriously crooked. After traversing numerous small alleys, Red squinted into the fog, reoriented himself, and turned into another, seemingly deeper alleyway.

However, the moment he stepped into the alley, Red stopped dead in his tracks.

Straightening his posture against the wall, Red unhesitatingly pulled a folding knife from his pocket. A glint of viciousness flashed in his narrowed eyes.

One, two… three.

After silently counting, Red suddenly sprang from the corner, his back ramrod straight, extending the folding knife towards the alley’s entrance.

Yet, the figure he expected to impale on his blade did not appear. Red froze for a moment, then felt something cold press against his neck.

“Mr. Red, your vigilance is quite sharp.”

“How did you discover me?”

A voice, distorted by a carving spell, echoed from behind him. Red’s body stiffened. He had been the first to detect the tail, yet until that cold press against his neck, he hadn’t noticed a thing, heard a sound.

It was as if they had materialized directly behind him, placing a lethal weapon against his throat without leaving a single trace.

“Heh, anyone who’s survived this long in these parts without some skill wouldn’t be alive today.”

“It was merely counter-surveillance.”

Though the person behind him could end his life in an instant, Red’s voice betrayed not a hint of panic.

“While I don’t know who you are, isn’t this a rather peculiar way to greet someone?”

“I merely wish to ask Mr. Red a few questions. If Mr. Red cooperates, this ‘greeting’ will naturally conclude here.”

The deliberately distorted voice from behind him revealed no emotional fluctuations. Red chuckled twice, then spoke in a casual, conversational tone.

“If you want to ask questions, now isn’t exactly the best time.”

“Perhaps we could arrange a time, sit down, and have a proper talk?”

“Mr. Red seems to enjoy joking, even in a situation like this, you can still laugh.”

The voice behind him spoke again. The other party seemed in no rush to extract information from Red, and Red, in turn, seemed content to exchange pleasantries.

However, despite his outwardly relaxed tone, a cloud of suspicion formed in Red’s mind.

He had stalled for long enough. Why hadn’t they made their move?

“Mr. Red, don’t wait. Here and now, only we can have a proper talk.”

The voice behind him, as if privy to Red’s thoughts, stated directly.

Red’s heart jolted, and his gaze instinctively darted towards the shadows of the alley.

Through the fog, Red struggled to discern the situation there, but as if to accommodate him, the instant his gaze swept over, a figure toppled stiffly from the shadows.

Through the mist, Red could only vaguely make out what appeared to be a throwing knife embedded in the figure’s back, near the heart.

Red’s eyes darkened.

Needless to say, if one hidden sentry was compromised, the others could not have possibly escaped a similar fate.

Who exactly were these people? Just before he turned into the alley, he had clearly sensed his sentries still positioned and ready in the vicinity.

From turning into the alley to the assailant’s strike, only a few seconds had passed. Could those few seconds truly have been enough for them to eliminate all his sentries and then silently appear behind him?

At this thought, Red felt a surge of tension for the first time that evening.

It seemed he had encountered a formidable opponent this time.

“Mr. Red, now, can we have a proper talk?”

Even so, the voice behind Red remained devoid of any discernible emotional inflection.