For Eight Fingers, this had been a nightmare of a night.
As the massive organization that ruled this country's underworld, Eight Fingers had always been confident in its own strength. But even if they were beaten to death, they never would have imagined something like this happening!
What the hell was going on?!
The Eight Fingers leaders seated around the round table had lost their usual composure and become restless. One of them slammed the table and roared.
"Calm down. Everyone has suffered serious losses. This isn't just one person's problem."
A blonde woman frowned and spoke quietly. Upon hearing her, another person sneered.
"Silma, I heard your magical herb plantation was burned to the ground?"
"That's right."
At that, the blonde woman named Silma darkened slightly.
"I hate to say it, but... from today onward, black powder will probably be difficult to circulate anymore. And aren't you in the same situation?"
As she spoke, Silma looked toward the person who had just provoked her.
"I heard there wasn't even a hair left in your weapon warehouse? You haven't forgotten that it was Eight Fingers' armory, have you?"
"That wasn't my negligence!"
Faced with Silma's accusation, the man's sneering face immediately twisted. Before they could continue arguing, however, the others began speaking as well.
"My casino is finished too! Not just the casino—many nobles who were gambling there got hurt! Damn it! Who knows how much compensation they'll demand from me!"
"The treasury has been completely buried underground. Who knows how long it'll take to dig it out..."
"Enough!"
Hearing everyone's complaints, a tall man in black robes soon slammed his hand down on the table.
"Is now the time to be talking about this? Haven't you noticed the real problem? Forget the losses for now, but... who exactly was