Desperation to survive drove Ito Makoto to move with a speed he had never known.
Ignoring the searing pain throughout his body, he screamed at the Black Dragon Chamber of Commerce gunmen, who were still frozen in terror. His voice was a hysterical jumble of Japanese and the Dragon Kingdom's language.
"Quick! Turn off the Signal Jammer! Baka! You stupid pigs!"
The gunmen snapped out of their stupor and scrambled to the Private Dining Room door, fumbling to shut down the device.
Trembling, Ito Makoto pulled a specially encrypted Satellite Phone from the pocket of his tattered clothes.
With shaking fingers, he dialed a number.
"Beep... beep... beep..."
The entire Private Dining Room fell deathly silent.
Everyone held their breath, their eyes fixed on the little phone.
Chen Duo and the other eight heiresses felt their hearts leap into their throats.
They were about to hear the voice of a Class-A War Criminal who had slaughtered tens of thousands of their compatriots—an old devil who still wielded immense influence in Eastern Japan.
The phone rang only once before someone answered.
A strong, elderly male voice, even carrying a hint of amusement, came through.
"Makoto, my great-grandson! I saw the news. You've brought glory to the Empire again!"
"Well done! I hear you defeated the Dragon Kingdom's Snow Wolf unit without even drawing your blade. You truly are the heir to the Ito Family!"
How could this be the voice of a man nearly a hundred years old?
At the praise, Ito Makoto forced out a smile uglier than a grimace and was about to beg for help.
But the old man on the other end kept talking, his words lewd and arrogant.
"Modu is a fine place. I went there when I was young. The women there are the prettiest