BIOLOGICAL SUPERCOMPUTER SYSTEM-Chapter 821 The headquarters (4)

Erik settled his tab with the bartender, a gesture that went unnoticed amidst the low hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses.

With a purposeful stride, he made his way back to the restroom, where the lifeless body of the man he had impersonated lay slumped in a stall, without his head and with his blood dripping into the toilet.

After having transformed into a fly, Erik slipped out of the bathroom, his new form granting him the stealth and agility needed to navigate the headquarters undetected.

Erik flew through the grand room where the bar while overhearing conversations. Most were about the 'old times', some about the current situation.

Then he entered the private quarters, searching for the entourage in question, hoping they weren't already in the leader's office.

The deeper he ventured, the more the true scale of the operation revealed itself.

Rooms filled with monitors displaying surveillance footage and maps dotted with pins and strings tracing the gang's influence across the city were just some of the few things he saw while searching the place.

Finally, after minutes that felt like hours, Erik spotted them.

Gus Ridley led a small group through a nondescript door.

As they stepped into the room, the atmosphere shifted. The seriousness etched on the faces of those present hinted at a very serious situation.

Erik glided in after them, unnoticed amidst the group's focused entry and before they could close the door.

The room they entered was bathed in light. A solitary computer stood on a massive desk, drowning under piles of papers, while bookshelves laden with documents lined the walls. It looked like the Crystal Cross Gang's leader was a busybody.

As Erik's gaze settled on the man before him, he instinctively knew he was looking at the leader of the Crystal Cross Gang.

The man's older age was clear in the creases that lined his face and the silver threads that wove through his hair.

His substantial girth suggested a life of indulgence which was the complete opposite of what, inside the room, hinted at him at being someone working late in the night.

Of course, if work was the right word to use about someone who commanded the most infamous gang in the world.

Erik was certain he was the leader. Be it in the arrogant gaze in his eyes, the respectful attitude of those who entered his office and with the authority through which he observed his guests.

<Seems the gang life wasn't harsh on him, > Erik thought to himself, observing how the man's attire struggled to contain his ample midsection.

Despite his outward appearance suggesting a certain lethargy, the sharpness in his eyes betrayed a keen mind, likely honed through years of navigating the treacherous waters of criminal enterprise.

Erik couldn't help but be curious about how much of the gang's fearsome reputation was due to the strategic acumen of this seemingly unassuming figure.

While watching him, Erik prepared to peel back the layers of cunning and brutality that had undoubtedly cemented this man's position at the apex of the underworld, all without knowing his name but certain of his pivotal role in the organization's hierarchy.

That, of course, if Shade's existence and role were just rumors.

Now, what Erik needed was for Gus Ridley to steer the conversation in the right direction. Erik's plan hinged on capturing crucial pieces of information from their exchange.

As long as Gus posed the questions, Erik would delve into their minds, gleaning insights and unraveling the mysteries that bound the Crystal Cross Gang's operations.

"Mr Ridley. To what I owe the pleasure?" The gang leader said.

"You can imagine it, Howell. I came here on Volkov's orders," Gus said.

<Howell? Is this the name of the Crystal Cross Gang's leader? >

"Yeah, I suspected that."

There was a tint of annoyance and defiance in Howell's stare.

Despite not having to hide anymore, and the Gang having key positions in society thanks to Volkov, Howell didn't really like him.

It was maybe his way of managing things, or how he exposed himself too much.

For someone used to dwell in the shadows, that blatant and cruel way of handling things was problematic.

"And what does the mighty general of Frant wants from me?"

"More men, of course."

"Ha!" Howell paused, his laughter echoing in the room.

"More men, you say? As if the streets aren't already crawling with your soldiers and my... associates."

But then he asked a very important question, "How much are you willing to pay?"

"We will pay as much as you ask, if it is reasonable."

"That's intriguing. And you will pay despite the people I send?"

"Yes," Gus said.

"Good. Then I want 10 million New Dollars for the trouble."

Gus, taken aback by Howell's demand for ten million New Dollars, struggled to mask his shock.

"That's... a considerable sum," he said, trying to regain his composure. "I think you should reconsider."

Howell, smirking at Gus's discomfort, leaned back in his chair.

"I thought Volkov's coffers were deep. Seems I was mistaken."

"Howell," Gus said. "You understand Becker is not dead, right?"

"So?" Howell didn't really care about that. He escaped Becker for years. There was nothing he could do now that he didn't have men.

Gus hesitated before responding. "Becker, it is clear had more allies that we knew. We need more men. If Volkov falls, it's not just him who's at risk. It could mean the end for us all, you included."

Howell's laughter subsided as he considered the gravity of the situation.

"Becker's always been a thorn in our side. But he failed to stop us for years. I don't think he would be able to do so with a ragtag group he got from the streets."

Gus hesitated, then spoke, "I shouldn't be sharing this... but the Blackguards issued a caution about someone they themselves are wary of: Erik Romano."

Howell's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Erik Romano? The awakener? I thought he was long dead."