The Terminally Ill Young Master is the Mad Dog of the Underworld - Chapter 67

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HELHEIM SCANS

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]

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Chapter 67: Taking Over The Organization

“Oh, I see. Hmm, yeah, I get it.”

Through meticulous questioning, I managed to extract the information I wanted.

“So, let’s summarize. The spider tattoo symbolizes the Bisakino Brotherhood, a powerful organization classified as third-rate, right?”

“Y-Yes, that’s correct.”

“And you lot are nothing more than fifth-rate fuckers that pay tribute to a lower branch of that Bisakino Brotherhood, essentially scraping the bottom of the barrel.”

“Y-Yes.”

“The world really has come a long way. Even lowlifes like you guys have some sort of hierarchy these days?”

“…W-We do, actually.”

Typically, the underworld organizations are divided like this:

At the top, first-rate organizations dominate the entire underworld of a kingdom, like Litvaleur or Flanders.

Below them are the second-rate organizations, which control the underworld in duchies or marquisates, like Grunewald, or wield equivalent power.

‘Then, there are the third-rat, which hold sway over major cities like Grunewald City or possess comparable influence.’

So, this Bisakino Brotherhood was a pretty notable orgainzation within this city.

“But now, you’re saying several organizations of similar power have emerged, leading to a chaotic free-for-all?”

“That’s right. The city is so large and wealthy that its underworld rivals the strength of the entire underworld of smaller marquisates.”

This wasn’t particularly surprising. Where money and people gather, underworld thugs are sure to follow.

On the other hand, if a prominent group from the capital gets pushed to the outskirts, it’s also common for them to crush the local powers and take over their territory.

“So, even the second-rate organizations that control the Grunewald Duchy’s underworld have their headquarters in this city?”

“Yes. When conflicts escalate, they sometimes step in to mediate.”

“Aha.”

“The leader of that organization is widely recognized as the undisputed godfather of the city’s entire underworld.”

“I see.”

In short, if I were to take down this so-called Godfather, the Grunewald Duchy’s underworld would fall into my hands.

‘Of course, that’s still a long way off.’

…But that was also my true goal.

I patted the iron mace-wielding man’s head gently and spoke with a kind tone.

“Well done. You’ve answered quite nicely.”

“Th-Thank you.”

“I never said I’d let you live.”

“…What?”

Why the shock? I still had more questions to ask.

“Let’s move on to the next question.”

Before continuing, I wiped the blood trickling from the man’s mouth, where a few teeth had been knocked out.

“Th-Thank you.”

It’s strange how humans can be. Even after getting beaten half to death, they’re grateful just to have a bit of blood wiped off.

Maybe he was clinging to the faint hope that I’d let him live. That expectation had turned him into such a pathetic, sentimental man.

“You’re not paying tribute directly to the Bisakino Brotherhood, are you? It’s probably to one of the fourth-rate orgainzation under them.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

The fourth-rate organizations usually operate under third-rate organizations, controlling specific districts or holding significant influence in industries like smuggling, gambling, mercenary work, or contract killings.

“There must be quite a few groups of that scale in this city.”

“Too many to count.”

And this guy’s group was just a fifth-rate organization, the lowest of the low, doing grunt work for those fourth-rate orgainzations.

‘Come to think of it, this whole system is pretty convoluted.’

But what I plan to do is simple.

‘Start by taking over one of the bottom-rate organizations, then slowly expand and work my way up.’

That’s why finding the leader of this pathetic group and taking control of a fifth-rate organization was the perfect first step.

No one in this line of work would even notice if the leadership of a group like this quietly changed hands—it’s too insignificant to draw any attention.

‘They’re basically abandoned riffraff, which makes them perfect prey for me.’

With my objective set, I felt surprisingly refreshed.

“Uh, may I… ask you one question?”

It was clear he remembered that unapproved questions were forbidden. Such well-mannered behavior deserved a little mercy.

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“Why… are you even asking about this…?”

“That’s a surprisingly sharp question. Well done.”

“T-Thank you.”

A good question deserves an answer.

“Because, starting now, I’m going to beat up your boss and take over your organization.”

“…What?”

Strange. I said it with the smile of a friendly neighbor, but the guy looked even more terrified than when I was hitting him.

“If you understand, hurry up and take me to your headquarters.”

Ah, I forgot to add this part. To clarify, I kindly added,

“…Unless you’d rather die.”

***

“Good evening.”

I dropped the still-breathing men onto the floor of a shabby hideout, as casually as if tossing sacks of flour.

Thud!

The bodies hit the ground, groaning in pain.

“…What the fuck.”

A sharp-eyed young man, who had been watching me closely, let out a short, bitter laugh.

“What am I supposed to do with these useless bastards?”

He seemed ready to die from embarrassment over his subordinates’ incompetence.

But he shouldn’t feel too bad—no matter who stepped forward, the outcome would’ve been the same.

“What do you mean, ‘what’? Patch up the ones who are alive and bury the ones who aren’t.”

“They’re dead?”

“Yeah. A few of them.”

At that, the man’s eyes flashed with murderous intent.

“Hey, don’t glare at me like that. I only fought back because they attacked me first.”

I soothed his anger before asking,

“By the way, Zizek—have you had dinner yet?”

At my overly friendly greeting, the man—clearly the boss—taken aback.

“Holy moly, how do you know my name? Who sent you?”

“Who sent me? No one.”

I pointed at the iron mace-wielding guy, now sporting a mangled face and awkwardly slumped in the corner.

“A few hits and he told me everything I needed to know.”

“You traitorous son of a bitch!”

“Whoa, calm down now.”

Like a polite guest, I casually dragged a chair over and sat down.

“Also, get better chairs. This one looks like it’s about to fall apart.”

Despite my provocative demeanor, Zizek managed to keep his temper in check.

‘Not bad.’

Caution is almost always the right move. I narrowed my eyes, observing him carefully.

‘Good build, sharp eyes.’

From what I’d heard on the way here, this wasn’t a man destined to rot in some bottom-feeder gang.

He supposedly had a reputation for hiding his true abilities, maintaining a surprising amount of respect and principles among the trash he surrounded himself with.

‘Let’s see what you’re really made of.’

If he turned out to be worthwhile, I’d bring him under my wing. If he was just another hypocrite, coward, or piece of shit, then I’d change my approach.

“…”

Zizek, in turn, was sizing me up with equal scrutiny.

A man can only see as far as his own skills allow. I broke the silence.

“What’s the matter? Do you sense something?”

“There’s something… unusual about you.”

“Oh?”

I praised Zizek with a grin.

“Now that’s the intuition of a proper gang boss. I like your awareness.”

“What is it you want?”

Zizek cut straight to the point, trying to gauge my intentions.

“If it’s money, I can make arrangements. If you’re here to negotiate, let’s talk it out.”

“Haha.”

It reminded me of how I reacted when Ulbhild first told me about the hostage from Angantyr. This guy was better than I expected.

“What’s so funny?”

My laugh made Zizek frown in irritation.

“The word negotiation is funny, don’t you think? Considering you were about to bury me without a second thought.”

“…Could you tell me exactly what happened?”

“Of course.”

I nodded, and Zizek turned to one of his men.

“Rob, explain what happened.”

So the guy’s name was Rob. I looked over at the pitiful man, missing several front teeth, his face a wreck.

“W-Well… this man—no, this gentleman—entered the alley and said ‘From today onward, this street belongs to me.’”

Zizek turned his gaze back to me.

“Is that true?”

“It is.”

“…So we stepped in. We thought he might be some lunatic sent by another group to cause trouble, or maybe just an actual lunatic. We needed to confirm.”

Rob stumbled through his explanation. He recounted the back-and-forth—how we exchanged words, how I insulted the Bisakino Brotherhood, and how I dismissed them as nobodies, saying I didn’t want to deal with lackeys and that they should bring their boss instead—until…

“Hold on, hold on.”

Looking as though he might faint, Zizek held up a hand to stop him.

“Are you out of your mind? You insulted the Bisakino Brotherhood here, of all places?”

“That’s right.”

“…And as if that wasn’t enough, you mocked our tattoos? What exactly is your goal? Were you sent here by another gang?”

“You people—bosses and lackeys alike—really do love jumping to the same conclusions.”

I sighed deeply, crossing my legs.

“And you, Rob. Why don’t you tell him how you idiots were the ones threatening to cut off my head and throw it into the ocean before attacking me—an unarmed man? Or do you want to die right now?”

At that, Rob quickly averted his gaze, mumbling,

“I-I was just about to mention that…”

“Save it. I’ve already heard enough.”

At that, Zizek shifted his tone as he looked at me.

“Did you really take them down barehanded?”

“More or less. I borrowed a weapon or two along the way.”

“…”

“Think about it carefully. Could you have done the same?”

Zizek shook his head.

“If I were unarmed? I’d have struggled a bit. I’d probably have taken a stab or two.”

“You’re a man who knows his limits.”

If he still doubted my abilities after hearing all that, he wouldn’t live long in this world anyway.

“…It seems we may have overreacted on our end. For now, I’ll treat you as a guest. Have some water.”

At Zizek’s signal, one of his men brought out a water bottle from somewhere. I scoffed.

“Do I look like an idiot? You drink first.”

“!”

The underling hesitated and glanced at Zizek, who looked momentarily flustered.

“There’s no poison. I hate to say it myself, but we’re not nearly organized or meticulous enough to keep odorless, tasteless poison ready for moments like this.”

“That’s… actually a fair point.”

Even as I nodded, I insisted once more.

“But I said you drink it first.”

“I’ll drink it.”

Zizek grabbed the bottle, took a swig, and then spoke.

“As you can see, it’s not poisoned. However, I admit I was hasty. I’ll apologize for that.”

His sudden shift in attitude was so pitifully accommodating that I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Zizek, aren’t you embarrassed to be so spineless in front of your men?”

Zizek sighed and replied.

“What does it matter? Keeping my head attached to my neck is a little more important right now.”

“You’re more sentimental about your men than you let on.”

And far more pragmatic than I expected.

Zizek hesitated, glancing at me cautiously before asking.

“May I at least know your name?”

“Why? So if it’s a name you don’t recognize, you can have your guys dump me in the river?”

“….”

“You’ll find out my name soon enough.”

I uncrossed my legs and stood up.

“Zizek, make your decision.”

Releasing a wave of mana, I loomed over Zizek and his men, exerting pressure like a predator cornering its prey.

“What exactly am I deciding?”

Zizek’s voice quivered slightly as he wiped the sweat forming on his brow.

“Starting today, you’ll either take down your sign and hand your organization over to me, or you’ll all die here.”

Zizek let out a hollow laugh, as if in disbelief.

“Damn it, so this was your intention all along.”

“That’s right.”

“Who are you?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Zizek reached for a sword that had been hanging on the wall.

“Then I’ll have to refuse your offer.”

Were they planning to rush me all at once? A twinge of disappointment flickered through me as I asked,

“Disappointing. I thought you valued your men’s lives.”

“Isn’t that obvious? They follow me, and I’m the one responsible for them.”

His words reminded me of Karzan—someone from my past.

“So what now?”

“I’ll fight you alone. If I lose, spare the men who remain and take them in. That’s all I ask.”

“Haha.”

I laughed at his unexpected response and asked again.

“If that’s the case, why not just surrender? You don’t seem like a man too foolish to realize the difference in our strength.”

“Once you step into the underworld, you can’t just roll over like that. I’d rather die than live with that shame.”

I liked his answer.

“Good. You’re a man who understands pride and responsibility. Even with death staring you in the face, your spirit doesn’t break so easily.”

I know men like this. They either die young or endure long enough to become giants. I’m willing to bet this man will be one of the latter.

“Zizek, I’ll accept your challenge.”

Before we begin, though, I pointed at the worthless fools who had been frozen stiff, silently watching this exchange.

“You useless bastards. Your leader’s risking his life to save yours, and what are you doing?”

“...!”

Zizek quickly defended his men as they flinched in surprise.

“Don’t be too harsh on them. If I had charged in first, they would have followed without hesitation.”

“Is that so? Pity I can’t confirm that for myself.”

I scanned their faces one by one, then warned.

“If any one of you tries a cheap trick or a surprise attack, you’ll pay the price for it.”

They averted their gazes, unable to meet mine.

“It’s an order. Do not interfere.”

Zizek calmed his men before turning to me.

“This place is too cramped. We’d better move outside to fight.”

“Lead the way if you know a suitable spot.”

“There’s an open lot nearby.”

I followed Zizek as he led the way.

“…Do you need a weapon?”

Honestly, I didn’t. But this was a duel between men, and I intended to respect Zizek’s resolve.

“I’ve got what I need, so don’t worry.”

“…”

Zizek’s eyes swept over me from head to toe before he let out a sigh.

“Damn it. Is that an artifact? Selling that weapon alone would make us enough money to last for years.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.

“So, you’re some bigshot with a mysterious, priceless weapon? Of course. I should’ve known when I had that restless dream earlier…”

Despite his words, I gave Zizek credit. Even knowing what he was up against, he chose to stake the fate of his organization on this duel. His courage earned him my respect.

‘A proper leader should be like this.’

Zizek might genuinely deserve the loyalty of his men.

‘Don’t worry too much. I didn’t come here to send you to your deaths.’

If Zizek proved capable, I planned to keep him on as my proxy to manage the organization.

Of course, there would be a few conditions.

‘But they won’t be bad terms for you either.’

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HELHEIM SCANS

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]

Join our Discord for release updates!

https://discord.com/invite/dbdMDhzWa2

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