Kuro let out a soft sigh and glanced at Kama.
See?
Kama only smiled faintly, showing not even the slightest hint of guilt.
Kuro sighed again and snapped his fingers lightly in front of the man's face.
Instantly, the man's consciousness snapped back. He jolted slightly, blinking several times as his breathing became uneven. He shook his head slowly, trying to understand what had just happened.
"Huh…? I—"
His sentence cut off as his eyes refocused.
This time, he looked at Kuro.
Alert.
Tense.
"…Who are you?" he asked quickly, though his voice still carried traces of confusion.
Kuro didn't answer the question.
Instead, he stepped half a pace forward.
"Call your boss. Ulysses Klaue," he said calmly. "I have a big business with him."
A brief silence.
The sea wind blew gently, carrying a sharp salty scent.
The man stared at Kuro, then briefly at Kama—and instinctively, his gaze almost locked onto her again… before he quickly forced himself to look away.
Clearly, he was struggling to stay focused this time.
"…You think you can just come here and demand to meet him?" he said, trying to sound firm.
But there was a slight hesitation there.
A pressure… he couldn't quite explain.
Kuro remained calm.
"He will be interested," he added simply.
The man fell silent.
His grip on the rifle tightened.
A few seconds passed…
Then finally, he clicked the small radio on his shoulder.
"…Boss," he said quietly, still watching Kuro warily. "There are two people here."
He paused briefly.
"…They say they have a 'big business' with you."
Silence.
He waited for a response from the other end.
But his gaze never fully left Kuro—and occasionally, without realizing it… it drifted back toward Kama.
The radio crackled softly.
A rough, casual voice came through, yet clearly carrying authority.
"…Let them in. I want to see for myself."
A brief silence, then the connection cut.
The armed man slowly lowered his hand. He looked at Kuro and Kama for a few seconds, as if still weighing something—before finally letting out a short sigh.
"…Follow me."
Without much more talk, he turned around.
Kuro and Kama followed from behind.
Their footsteps echoed softly as they climbed onto the old ship's deck. Rusted metal creaked faintly underfoot, but the main structure remained solid—clearly maintained enough for something that should have been long abandoned.
Once inside, the atmosphere changed immediately.
The ship's interior felt alive.
Dim yellow lights hung from the ceiling, illuminating a large space filled with wooden crates and iron containers.
Some were open, revealing contents of firearms, ammunition, and other illegal goods.
People moved around.
Some inspected cargo.
Some sat casually drinking or playing cards.
And some… immediately turned as Kuro and Kama entered.
Their gazes were uniform.
Suspicious.
Measuring.
And… for a few of them—lingering longer than necessary on Kama.
In the middle of it all—sitting casually on a large crate, a white-skinned man with a thick beard stood out clearly.
His appearance was simple, yet neat. There was a deliberate messiness to him—as if he didn't care, yet still controlled how he appeared.
That was Ulysses Klaue.
One hand rested casually, while the other held a drink.
His gaze immediately locked onto the two new arrivals.
A few seconds passed.
He didn't speak.
Just observed.
Then—his smile slowly widened.
"Well…" he said casually, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. "I usually know exactly who wants to buy from me."
He jumped down from the crate and walked a few steps closer.
"But you?" he continued, eyes scanning Kuro from head to toe, then briefly shifting to Kama—and his brows slightly lifted.
"…you're not the usual kind of clients."
His tone sharpened slightly, though still casually maintained on the surface.
"So…" he tilted his head a little, smile still present. "Explain to me—what's this 'big business' that makes you bold enough to come straight into my den?"
Kuro gave a faint smile.
"Kama…" he said simply.
Kama immediately understood.
Without a word, she stepped forward toward the crate Klaue had been sitting on. The bag she carried was placed gently on the metal surface.
Ziiip.
The zipper opened.
Inside—stacked bars of gold.
A total of one hundred and fifty bars, each weighing fifty grams. The metallic shine immediately reflected the dim ship lights, drawing the attention of several nearby men.
Kama stepped slightly aside, giving a clearer view.
"Vibranium stock," Kuro continued casually. "I'm buying everything."
He glanced briefly at Klaue.
"If it's not enough, just say so. And sorry—I'm paying in gold, not cash or transfer."
A faint smile formed on his lips.
"You know… digital methods are too easy to trace."
He gave a light shrug.
"Especially by the 'Black Cat' and her people."
Silence.
A few seconds passed.
The entire room felt like it was holding its breath.
Ulysses Klaue's gaze dropped to the contents of the bag.
Then slowly rose back to Kuro.
His smile didn't disappear.
Instead… it widened.
"…Wow."
He stepped closer, eyes still fixed on the gold. His hand picked up one bar, weighed it for a moment, then tapped it lightly against the crate.
ting.
A clean metallic sound.
"Genuine," he muttered to himself.
Then he chuckled.
"Usually I have to deal with self-important types, bargaining, long proposals…" he said casually, still inspecting the gold.
"But this?" He lifted the bar slightly. "This is a language I understand."
But his gaze changed.
Sharper.
More alert.
He tossed the gold bar back into the bag.
clink.
"You came here directly. Brought gold. Asked for all my stock," he said slowly.
His smile was still there, but now it felt more dangerous.
"…and you casually mentioned the 'Black Cat' in my own place."
He stared straight into Kuro's eyes.
"Either you're extremely rich…" he continued, "…or extremely stupid."
A brief silence.
Then—Klaue let out a short laugh.
"But I like bold ones."
He opened his arms slightly, as if welcoming the situation.
"So here's the thing…" he said casually. "I do have Vibranium stock."
He leaned forward slightly.
"But 'all' is an expensive word."
His smile narrowed.
"And what's even more expensive…" his voice lowered slightly, "…is knowing who exactly is standing in front of me."
He paused for a moment.
"…so," he said slowly, "who are you?"
Kuro chuckled softly.
"Client confidentiality," he replied casually. "So… is one hundred and fifty gold bars, fifty grams each, still not enough?"
A brief silence.
Ulysses Klaue kept his gaze locked on Kuro.
Then—he laughed.
Short. Dry. Slightly unhinged.
"Hah… I like that answer," he muttered, shaking his head slightly. "Client confidentiality, huh? Classic. Means you know how this works."
He picked up another gold bar, rolling it between his fingers.
"And to your question…" he continued casually, "…whether it's enough or not is relative."
He tossed the bar back into the bag.
clink.
"You know what makes Vibranium so expensive?" he asked, looking at Kuro again. "It's not just because it's rare."
He took a step closer.
"…it's because the people who want it," his voice lowered, "are usually the ones capable of turning the world upside down."
His smile widened.
"And I have to make sure… I sell it to the right people."
He glanced briefly at Kama—just a second longer than necessary—then returned his gaze to Kuro.
"Your gold is good," he admitted. "Very good."
He shrugged lightly.
"But for 'all stock'?" he continued, "…you need more than just payment."
Silence.
A few of Klaue's men began paying closer attention.
"…you need a reason," he added. "Or… a guarantee."
His eyes narrowed.
"Because if I sell everything to one buyer…" he said slowly, "…I also have to be ready for the consequences."
His smile returned—casual, but clearly calculated.
"So, mysterious one," he said lightly, "what makes me believe you won't become a bigger problem than the ones I already have?"
Kuro fell silent for a moment.
Then he gave a faint smile.
Not warm—more like something… too relaxed for a situation like this.
"A problem?" he repeated softly.
He gave a small shrug.
"I didn't come here to cause problems."
He stepped forward once, just enough to slightly close the distance between them.
"But if you're worried…" he continued flatly, "…treat this as a one-time transaction."
His gaze remained calm.
"Goods change hands. We never meet again."
Silence.
A few people around them began to feel uneasy without realizing why.
There was something in Kuro's tone—not a threat, but also far from empty words.
"…and if that still isn't enough," he added casually, "you can consider me someone who won't waste what he's already bought."
He paused briefly.
His faint smile returned.
"Besides… if I really were a problem," he said lightly, "you wouldn't even have time to regret it."
Silence.
Several of the men around them began to pay closer attention.
"…you need a reason," he added. "Or… a guarantee."
His eyes narrowed.
"Because if I sell everything to one person…" he said slowly, "…I also have to be ready for the consequences."
His smile returned—relaxed, but clearly calculated.
"So, mysterious one," he said lightly, "what makes me believe you won't become a bigger problem than the ones I already have?"
Kuro was silent for a moment.
Then he gave a faint smile.
Not a warm one—more like something… too casual for a situation like this.
"A problem?" he repeated softly.
He gave a light shrug.
"I didn't come here to cause trouble."
He stepped forward once, just enough to slightly narrow the distance between them.
"But if you're worried…" he continued flatly, "…consider this a one-time transaction."
His gaze remained calm.
"Goods change hands. We never meet again."
Silence.
Some of the people around them began to feel uneasy without realizing it.
There was something in Kuro's tone—not a threat, but also not empty words.
"…and if that still isn't enough," he added lightly, "you can consider me someone who won't waste what he's already bought."
He paused briefly.
A thin smile returned.
"Besides… if I really am a problem," he said casually, "you won't even have time to regret it."
That moment felt a little heavier.
Then—Ulysses Klaue laughed.
Loud.
Unrestrained.
"Hah! Now that's interesting!" he said, clearly amused. "I like people who don't waste time."
He clapped his hands once, then gave a small gesture to one of his men.
"Alright," he continued casually. "I like your style."