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Black Sword.

That name...

It had been far too long since he had heard it.

Tales lay on the table, dazedly thinking of that strange man from his memories.

Hearing the masked man's words, Ricky and Clay exchanged a glance.

This time, it was Tampa's turn to freeze.

"You already knew him? Black Sword, and his Black Street Brotherhood?"

He looked at the mercenaries in confusion.

"We encountered him."

Ricky said flatly, though his gaze remained fixed in the same direction for a long time. "And his unusual ancient sword, with its impressive history."

"Not long ago."

The masked man folded his arms and snorted coldly.

"Memorable."

Tales, panting against the table, was filled with uncertainty.

Black Sword.

He had once been... a mercenary?

The Nine Giants.

And what connection or grudge did Blood Whistle have with him?

What could have driven them to risk breaking the law and abduct Tampa just to force information about that man out of him?

Tampa, looking utterly bewildered, glanced from one to the other. "Since you already know, then why are you still..."

Ricky raised a hand and cut him off.

"I need confirmation."

"So he really is the leader of the Brotherhood."

Ricky clasped his hands and looked solemnly at Tampa. His tone and expression were so grave that it was as though he were performing a sacred ritual.

"And now, we want to know about his past, Tampa."

"Especially what he did before the Brotherhood, during his mercenary days: every mission, every deal, every story."

The doubt in Tampa's eyes deepened.

"His origins, his identity, his background." Clay silently added from the side, his tone as if he were facing a formidable enemy.

Tampa's brow furrowed tighter and tighter.

"Not just that."

The masked man raised his head and spoke coldly.