Just as Expected of You, Mr. Jonas

The sudden turn of events caught everyone present off guard. The gang leader stared blankly at the young man who had burst through the entrance, his mind a complete blank.

Only after a moment did he seem to come to his senses and curse:

"Who are you? Who let you barge in here? Do you know where-!"

Before he could finish, the young man beside him, whom he had called Young Master Sirka, cut him off with a dark expression. Under the gang leader's bewildered gaze, he said:

"Jonas Wetting, why are you here...?"

He was all too familiar with that face. Or rather, the surname Wetting was known to practically everyone in District 26.

The Wetting Conglomerate was even larger than the Bond Group backing him. Although he had no idea why Jonas had appeared here, he certainly wouldn't risk offending the young man before him.

"I was just looking around. I didn't expect to overhear something so interesting."

Jonas smiled and glanced at the purple-haired girl curled up on the floor nearby. The instant their eyes met, she looked away like a startled rabbit, lowering her head and not daring to meet his gaze.

"So the Bond Conglomerate deals in human trafficking, too?"

At those words, Sirka's expression darkened further.

Naturally, he didn't believe such a blatant, undisguised lie. Besides, the second half of Jonas's remark had already exposed his true purpose.

-He came here for me.

Once he realized that, Sirka stopped wasting words and sneered:

"Drop the act, Jonas. What exactly do you want?"

Upon hearing Sirka address the man before them, the gang leader also realized who he was. A chill of belated fear washed over him as he recalled his rash behavior.

He knew perfectly well the weight the name Wetting Conglomerate carried. He was just a minor gang boss running a bar in the Red-Light District; Jonas could crush him with a single finger.

He no longer dared to interrupt their conversation and merely stood silently to one side, inwardly lamenting his predicament.

He had only wanted to curry favor with the Bond Conglomerate's second young master. Who could have imagined he'd get dragged into a clash between conglomerate heirs?

Jonas settled onto the sofa opposite Sirka as though he belonged there and spoke unhurriedly:

"It's not about what I want to do, Mr. Sirka. You need to understand what you're doing."

As he spoke, he braced a hand on the table, stared into Sirka's eyes, and enunciated each word:

"Under Article 321 of the Security Bureau Constitution, individuals are prohibited from privately modifying or selling sex dolls. Violators may face more than ten years in prison."

As Jonas spoke, he glanced at the gang leader standing beside Sirka, sending a chill down the man's spine. His next words left the man feeling as though he had plunged into icy water.

He took out a small chip and said:

"I've recorded all the relevant evidence and the entire transaction. Tell me, if this video reached the Peacekeeping Forces, how would they handle it?"

Sirka's expression grew uglier still.

For the Bond Conglomerate, something like this was only a minor inconvenience. Even if the file reached the Peacekeeping Forces, it wouldn't cause much of a stir. Such things were hardly uncommon, after all, and the Peacekeeping Forces had no reason to offend the Bond Conglomerate over them.

But with the Wetting Conglomerate fanning the flames, it would become far more than a minor inconvenience.

Countless news outlets would blanket their coverage with the scandal, and the Peacekeeping Forces would be forced by public pressure to investigate.

The Bond Conglomerate would lose substantial resources over the affair, and Skarl, as the instigator, might lose any chance of competing for succession.

Clearly, this was a naked threat.

"I don't believe your Wetting Conglomerate is that clean, either."

Sirka gritted his teeth, refusing to concede without a fight.

Jonas smiled at that, a hint of mockery in his expression.

"I don't deny it."

Sirka drew a deep breath and said:

"What do you want?"

He knew perfectly well that Jonas wouldn't have spent so long lurking nearby unless he wanted something from him.

In other words, things weren't quite that bad yet. At least there was still room to negotiate.

"I assume you know about what happened in the Alt District, Mr. Sirka."

Sirka frowned. "I do. So?"

"As you know, the Destiny Organization has been giving the Wetting Conglomerate quite a headache lately."

Jonas spoke with a note of regret:

"And as far as I know, the Bond Conglomerate has business dealings with the Destiny Organization, doesn't it?"

Sirka's pupils contracted. He had never imagined Jonas would know about something like that.

His instinctive reaction was that there was a mole in the company.

Once he recovered, he feigned composure and said:

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"There's no need to rush to deny it, Mr. Sirka. You should know perfectly well that I wouldn't say something like that unless I already had evidence."

Jonas spoke calmly and unhurriedly, but his matter-of-fact delivery put considerable pressure on Sirka.

"I don't care what your dealings involve, and I'm willing to believe the Bond Conglomerate had no part in the riots in the Alt District."

He raised his head and looked Sirka in the eyes.

"But the Bond Conglomerate should understand that getting embroiled in this affair now would be unwise."

Sirka wore an ugly expression. Only after a long silence did he seem to reach a decision and speak:

"I understand."

He now understood exactly why Jonas had come: he wanted the Bond Conglomerate to cut off its trade and supply chain with the Destiny Organization.

"A pleasure doing business with you."

At that, Jonas smiled. Then he stood, glanced at the girl curled up nearby, and said:

"One more thing. You don't mind if I take this girl with me, do you?"

As though she had heard Jonas, the purple-haired girl shrank back.

After what had happened, Sirka had lost interest in continuing. He waved a hand and made no attempt to stop him.

Watching this unfold from behind Jonas, Eiffel gave him a peculiar look.

She couldn't help making a wry remark to herself.

-So this was what he was really after...

Just as expected of you, Mr. Jonas.