Kuta did not kill anyone in front of the owner and the young waiter.
Once Tesoro fell, the guards who followed him and oppressed countless people in the city would naturally be torn apart by all that pent-up hatred.
After dismissing the guards, Kuta returned to the private room and continued eating as though nothing had happened.
His companions knew him well by now. Knowing a major battle might soon break out here, they noticeably picked up the pace of their meal.
After finishing, they left the restaurant under the owner's cautious gaze, which also held a trace of gratitude.
Looking back at the small figure standing just inside the restaurant entrance, clutching a serving tray with both hands and flickering in and out of view, a gentle smile appeared on Kuta's calm face.
He nodded to the young waiter, then turned away, his smile disappearing.
Standing on the neon-lit street, he looked up at the top of the tallest, most luxurious building in the city. A flash of killing intent passed through his azure eyes.
In fact, when he first came here, he had not intended to kill Tesoro.
After all, most people who could come here were wealthy. Those gambling addicts did not deserve sympathy.
But in that restaurant, he had seen another side of the city.
And beneath the city lay an even crueler side.
Of course, with so many people in this city, they could not all be rich. More than half were actually sailors.
Those sailors had followed their captains here, only to sink into a boundless swamp from which they could never escape.
Not only could they never leave, but neither could their children.
Generation after generation, they could only work here to pay off their gambling debts to Tesoro.
Yes... just like slaves.