Within the room, Wilder's interest was piqued by this unknown thing. Compared to potential profits, the mission itself was secondary. Thus, he was genuinely curious: what could possibly yield greater returns than the arms trade?
Though this was merely his own speculation, conflicts in the world generally boiled down to two things: hatred or profit.
If it was profit, the gains from arms dealing were already immense. For a party to willingly forsPassgogo such returns, it was highly probable—eight or nine times out of ten—that something even more significant was at stake.
The night was quiet. Wilder closed his eyes.
The night passed without event, and the sun rose punctually the next day.
With a clear purpose, Wilder scouted the seaside area behind the casino but found nothing.
"Could he have landed already?" Wilder frowned. If that were the case, gathering any information would prove exceedingly difficult.
Just as this thought crossed his mind, he spotted a ship slowly approaching in the distance. It was an ordinary merchant vessel, but the man standing делегатовn its deck immediately caught Wilder's attention.
"Diamante." Wilder's gaze sharpened.
To avoid being detected, Wilder didn't linger.
"Diamante is arriving. The casino's head will surely come out to greet him. Should I use this opportunity to sneak into the casino and hide in advance?"
Wilder considered it for a moment, then shook his head, dismissing the idea.
"It would be nearly impossible to avoid detection that way." Simply finding a hiding spot would be one thing, but Wilder's objective was to eavesdrop, which meant he needed to get close to his target.
Aha!
Wilder raised an eyebrow, having nearly forgotten his own abilities. "If it's for a short distance, that would be far more effective."
Wilder walked into the casino and, in a secluded corner, quietly released four or five Swamp Roaches.
The moment they materialized, Wilder directed them to scatter in different directions. This process was executed with extreme stealth, and no one noticed anything amiss.
The Swamp Roaches scurried rapidly across the floor, weaving through the throngs of gamblers, making their way towards the more concealed areas within the casino.
Throughout this, everything the Swamp Roaches saw and heard was transmitted to Wilder's mind via a special connection, the images appearing as if he were witnessing them firsthand.
Having set his plan in motion, Wilder exchanged some money for chips and sat down at a gambling table. While nonchalantly placing bets, he patiently awaited any news relayed by his Swamp Roaches.
"Big."
Wilder pushed chips worth ten million Beli onto the "Big" section of the betting table.
The dealer glanced at him before slowly lifting the dice cup.
Big!
Envious gazes from the surrounding crowd fell upon Wilder.
"Small." Another round began, and this time Wilder bet on "Small."
Perhaps luck was truly on his side. Wilder won the next five consecutive rounds, and his chip count swelled to a hundred million Beli.
Wilder frowned slightly. He didn't want to attract this much attention; it was disadvantageous, especially since his ultimate intentions were less than pure.
He took a deep breath, knowing that continuing this streak would be problematic. In the next instant, he made a move that stunned everyone present.
"Fifty million, all on fifteen."
Yes, Wilder had deliberately chosen a specific, less probable number.
Although this wager still caused a stir, it remained within an acceptable threshold of attention. This was precisely why Wilder hadn't bet his entire one hundred million. Doing so, even if he ultimately lost, would have already achieved the opposite of his desired subtlety. A hundred million Beli was no trifling sum.
As the dealer prepared to reveal the dice, his hands trembled, though fortunately, he made no mistakes.
Naturally, the bet didn't win. Wilder breathed a sigh of relief, while the onlookers wore expressions of utter heartbreak, as if collectively thinking, You should have listened to us and stuck with Big/Small!
Wilder was about to place another bet when the feed from his Swamp Roaches suddenly yielded a significant development.
The image was from a spacious room. The Swamp Roach inside had just finished scouting the area, finding nothing of interest. Just as it was about to depart, the door opened.
Diamante, whom Wilder had seen earlier by the sea, walked in, accompanied by a young man.
Diamante sat on a sofa while the young man stood respectfully behind him, delivering a report.
Wilder maintained a calm facade, continuing to place small bets, all the while "listening" intently to their conversation.
"Tomorrow, at two in the morning, that fellow Vassalo will come to discuss the arms deal with me. That will be our time to strike."
"Understood," the young man behind him affirmed quietly.
Diamante had a rather tribal appearance, with a wide mouth, a red cape, and matching red trousers. His overall look evoked an impulsive desire to grab a spear and chase lions.
"Well then… you go make the preparations." It seemed the two had already discussed matters in detail during their prior communication, as Diamante offered no further information beyond that initial, crucial sentence.
Wilder frowned, a little frustrated, but ultimately, he gleaned no more useful intelligence.
After the young man left the room, Diamante lay down on the bed to rest.
To err on the side of caution, Wilder instructed the Swamp Roach in the room to dissolve into a pile of lifeless muck in a corner.
He then rose and left the casino.
"Diamante plans to move against Vassalo at two AM after tonight, when Vassalo arrives for the meeting. Perhaps I can use Diamante to complete my mission," Wilder mused upon returning to his room. "And then, Diamante's reasons for targeting Vassalo will likely be revealed through his subsequent actions."
Wilder had gone to such lengths initially to understand the deal at hand, but now, his interest was thoroughly captured by this mysterious "something more important than weapons."
"If… if it's something truly remarkable, I wouldn't mind taking a piece of the pie." A smirk played on Wilder's lips, his reflection visible in the glass windowpane.
Later that evening, Wilder paid another visit to Vassalo's manor. This time, he was far more cautious than before. After a thorough reconnaissance, he confirmed that Vassalo was, as expected, preparing to depart for the casino. With that, Wilder left.
It was midnight—00:00 of the new day. In two more hours, the meeting would take place.
Wilder stood in his room, gazing through the window at the casino across the way, his expression somber.
He desperately wanted to send his Swamp Roaches to investigate the situation inside, but the distance was too great. At this range, the roaches would lose their connection to him and revert to immobile swamp.
As for infiltrating himself, it was even more out of the question. The casino was now on lockdown, with all entry and exit prohibited, and the perimeter was heavily guarded. Even if he managed to sneak in underground, the probability of being detected was still very high.
This was a minor issue Wilder had recently discovered: his body, when transformed into swamp, was more easily sensed by others. It was like… a monster lurking in the shadows, its malevolent aura impossible to completely conceal.
"I can only wait for the outcome from inside." Diamante undoubtedly had a motive for attacking Vassalo. Wilder's plan was to wait until Vassalo was defeated and then follow them. They would surely have to come out, and by tailing them, he could discover Diamante's true objective.
"Vassalo isn't weak. Diamante must have some other trick up his sleeve or a trump card to ensure he can completely overpower Vassalo," Wilder pondered. To avoid drawing attention by standing at the window for too long, he released a Swamp Gecko, positioning it by the window to monitor everything for him. He himself returned to his bed, closing his eyes to rest and conserve energy.
Time trickled by quietly…
At 2:03 AM, Wilder's eyes snapped open.
Vassalo and his bodyguard, Gang, had appeared together at the casino's main entrance.
Wilder didn't move from his bed. Through the Swamp Gecko, the entire scene outside was transmitted vividly into his mind.
The pair had brought no soldiers. They walked straight through the main entrance, while the casino's own personnel outside tacitly surrounded the doorway.
For the moment, Wilder had no way of knowing what was happening inside. He could only wait.
He lit a cigar, watching the smoke curl and dissipate as he waited for time to pass.
Roughly half an hour later, the muffled sound of an explosion emanated from deep within the casino, seemingly from one of the rearmost chambers.
Wilder immediately moved to the window, parting the curtains just a sliver to peer across.
Following the explosion, thick black smoke began to billow from the casino, with faint flickers of fire visible within.
"Have they made their move?" Wilder couldn't be certain of the situation inside, his gaze fixed intently on the casino's main entrance.
A long silence followed the explosion. Then, for another half an hour or so, the sounds of fighting could be heard, before silence descended once more.
Before long, the door opened.
Diamante's figure was the first to emerge.
"Hm?" In his room, Wilder's eyes flickered. He could see that Diamante was covered in some black ash, likely caught in the explosion or perhaps just brushed against something on his way out. It was virtually impossible to tell if he had sustained any injuries.
What truly startled Wilder, however, was that Diamante was carrying Vassalo, who looked like a lifeless sack, slung over his shoulder. And even more astonishingly, another person followed Diamante out!
It was Vassalo's primary bodyguard—Gang!
Gang stood calmly behind Diamante, guarding him with the same composure he had previously shown when protecting Vassalo.
"That man… did he betray Vassalo? Or… was he Diamante's man from the very beginning?" Wilder watched this unfold through the narrow gap in his curtains, his mind leaning towards the latter possibility.
"Let's get a move on. The Young Master is quite concerned about this matter," Diamante said as he walked forward, Vassalo still on his shoulder. "Gang, whether or not you can become a member of the Donquixote Family hinges on this. So far, at least, you've satisfied me greatly. Believe me, once this business is concluded and you return with me, the Young Master will most certainly give you a warm welcome."
"I understand. I trust I will not disappoint the Young Master's expectations," Gang replied with a nod from behind, silently falling into step.
The two conversed as they walked, gradually moving further away, their direction appearing to be towards the manor. Wilder knew he couldn't afford to wait any longer. His form flickered a few times, and he vanished from the room.
Only the door swayed gently, as if stirred by a passing breeze.
…
Diamante and Gang proceeded towards the manor, a squad of soldiers brought from the casino following in their wake. The early morning town was wrapped in silence as the group made their way through the streets.
Gang, as if suddenly recalling something, spoke in a low, resonant voice, "The night before last, an assassin attempted to kill Vassalo."
"Oh?" Diamante turned his head, looking back at Gang with a hint of interest.
"Although the assassination failed, he managed to escape. The skill that assassin demonstrated was among the best I've ever encountered in my life," Gang said, a faint, cold smirk touching his otherwise calm features. "I wager he'll be back. Perhaps…"
"Perhaps?" Diamante prompted.
"If this current business hadn't transpired, I'd guess he would return, though I wouldn't know when. As things stand now… he might make his move sooner. This very morning, in fact." Gang's expression showed no arrogance, yet his even tone carried an air of unwavering certainty.
"Is that so?" Diamante glanced at him. "Since you've put it that way, it seems you're quite confident."
The two ceased their conversation and continued walking.
Wilder waited until they had disappeared from sight before he began to tail them.
At this point, there was no need to worry about ambushes. The town was considerably large, with numerous intersecting paths, and Wilder wasn't following a direct route, so such concerns were minimal.
The only real worry was being detected by Diamante and Gang.
"What use do they have for Vassalo's 'corpse'?" Wilder continually pondered this question. He had observed that Vassalo wasn't truly dead, merely unconscious.
"There's too little information." To be cautious, and also hoping to gather more intelligence along the way, Wilder released several dozen Swamp Roaches, directing them to pursue Diamante and Gang, while he himself maintained a safe distance behind.
Wilder kept about three hundred meters between himself and the Swamp Roaches; this was the effective limit of his control.
However, at this moment, the distance was perfect for allowing him to safely "eavesdrop" on Diamante and Gang's conversation. The Swamp Roaches were unlikely to be spotted unless someone was extremely close and the lighting was exceptionally bright; otherwise, it would be difficult to discern that the roaches scurrying in the night were actually constructs of swamp.
Following them, they soon left the town and were on the verge of entering the noble district.
Suddenly, Wilder's eyes lit up. After a long wait, he had finally overheard a crucial piece of information!
"So, that's how it is." A smile spread across Wilder's face. He finally understood why Diamante and Gang hadn't killed Vassalo outright. The object of their desire was located in an underground cultivation room, and access required retinal verification from Vassalo's eyes. Forcibly breaching the entrance would trigger a massive explosion, obliterating everything within.
Diamante, concerned that the eyes of a deceased person might not work, had decided to keep Vassalo alive for the time being. Once they reached their destination and the access system was unlocked, Vassalo would serve no further purpose.
"A cultivation room…"
Wilder mused on what kind of things would necessitate such a facility, all the while maintaining his distance from Diamante and Gang up ahead, ensuring neither party came into the other's line of sight.
Purupuru… Purupuru…!
As Wilder was deep in thought, the Den Den Mushi in his pocket began to ring. He glanced at it: a call from Dana.
Frowning slightly as he looked towards Diamante's distant group, Wilder paused for a moment before deciding to answer.
"Katcha."
"Boss, I've just found out about that matter you mentioned to me," Dana's soft, alluring voice purred from the other end of the Den Den Mushi. "Regarding the Power Spinach…"
Listening to her, Wilder's eyes slowly widened in surprise.