Rayleigh stood on the dock, watching Lucci and the others leave.
He withdrew his gaze.
Then he raised the liquor bottle in his other hand and tipped his head back for a drink. Liquor trickled down the corner of his mouth, and he casually wiped it away.
"Gulp."
The sound of swallowing was especially clear on the quiet dock.
Rayleigh tilted his head.
"They're all gone."
"Still not coming out?"
Wind blew from the end of the street, sweeping up a few fallen leaves.
Then.
A figure silently appeared in the direction where the warship had vanished.
Wangchuan stood abruptly at the edge of the dock, as though he had been there from the start.
His gaze fell on the dozens of iron chests piled on the dock.
The iron chests were stacked neatly, each heavy and sturdy, their clasps gleaming metallically in the sunlight.
Wangchuan's eyes lit up.
They lit up like those of someone who had gone hungry for three days and suddenly spotted a banquet.
He strode over to the iron chests, crouched down, and reached out to pat the lid of the topmost one.
"Smack."
A crisp sound.
The curve of his lips slowly widened.
"Not bad."
His voice was quiet, but the satisfaction in his tone was almost spilling over.
Rayleigh leaned against a mooring bollard, arms folded across his chest, watching Wangchuan.
He took his second drink.
"As you said, all the money's yours."
His tone carried a hint of languor.
"In exchange for a favor from you."
His gaze settled on Wangchuan's back.
He thought to himself.
What exactly is this brat thinking?
*With his strength, how were those CP0 agents any different from paper before him? That one called Lucci had some skill, but against this monster who could sink Marine Headquarters,