"Mr. 404,"
The combatant who handed over the invitation, code-named "8674,"
maintained a rigid stance. His build brought to mind statues of governors in certain places, and his voice was steady and flat. "Twenty-four hours ago, the Donquixote Family defeated a CP3 unit.
It included two senior agents rated B+ in strength, a considerable number of C-class regular agents, and over a thousand D-class basic combat personnel."
This ranking system originated from Germa 66's internal classification standards.
B+ combat strength was roughly equivalent to that of a Navy lieutenant colonel. Even within Germa's army, such fighters were elites at the squadron commander level.
"Oh?"
The short researcher raised his head from a pile of blueprints and parts, a calculating gleam flashing behind his lenses.
"I recall that a month ago, assessments of this family's principal members generally ranged from C to B-?"
"Your memory is accurate, Mr. 404."
The combatant confirmed it without the slightest inflection.
In Rose Manor's council chamber, the air carried the scent of wood warmed by the afternoon sun.
Rossi traced a finger across the spread-out map, finally stopping on the mark for Spandamruze.
"It's time everyone in this city knew who we were."
His voice was quiet, yet everyone around the table looked up. "Now that we've put down roots here, we should invite the prominent local figures over."
Jora looked up from her ledger and nodded gently.
Replacing the Jedi Family was only the beginning. The trade route established with Acanlia brought steady profits, while repelling CP3's men had served as a declaration-the family was no longer a shadow that needed to hide.
What they needed now was time, undisturbed time in which to quietly build their strength.
"We need to absorb what the Jedi Family left behind, bit by bit."
Rossi continued, his