Chapter 40: Church without Missionaries (5)

A man in his forties, who had been languidly tilting a wine glass, set it down on the table and spoke.

His eyes held a hint of annoyance, as if his mood had shifted.

“Still, something constantly stirring nearby is quite bothersome.”

His name was Salvatore Moretti.

He was in charge of the northern suburban area of Omega Detroit, colloquially known as ‘Godfather’ Moretti.

He looked back and forth at the other two bosses seated at the table and asked.

“Are you two interested in this matter?”

At that, a woman with a captivating impression rested her chin on her fingers and languidly shook her head.

“Thank you for the offer, Chairman. Was it 13th Street? You mean the eastern suburban district, right? That area is too far from our territory. As you know, my business is primarily concentrated in the west.”

She was the owner of ‘Paradise,’ a secretive social club that dominated the western suburban area of Omega Detroit.

In the underworld, she was called ‘Madam Isadora.’

An Asian man wearing a modernized red changpao also replied in a calm but firm voice.

“There are too many goods to be processed at the port. Customs inspections have become quite strict lately. I’m sorry, but I don’t have the capacity to worry about other matters.”

He was Chen Wei, the master of the Black Tiger Gang, which controlled the southern suburban area and the harbor district.

The two bosses, excluding Godfather Moretti, showed a clearly indifferent reaction to the commotion in the eastern suburbs.

In fact, it was understandable.

The eastern suburban area Moretti mentioned was the least populated and most barren neighborhood among the three districts.

Moreover, it was a troublesome place with an unnecessary number of petty local gangs.

It was a piece of land akin to a ‘chicken rib’ – too wasteful to discard, but with significantly low business potential to manage directly.

So, it was a kind of neutral zone that all three organizations had tacitly ignored.

In truth, once one reached the level of a mafia boss rather than a street gang, the size of the managed territory itself wasn’t crucial.

The key was how much lucrative business one controlled.

In that sense, the organizations of the three people gathered here each had distinct characteristics.

Madam Isadora was the queen of the entertainment district, operating large-scale amusement establishments.

She oversaw all sorts of decadent organizations that couldn’t openly establish themselves in the city center.

Rumor had it that even the chaebols of megacorporations had secretly visited her ‘Paradise’ at least once to indulge in humanity’s deepest desires.

That place was truly a city that never slept.

The Black Tiger Gang, led by Chen Wei, was a smuggling specialist organization.

If there was demand, they smuggled anything – weapons, drugs, forbidden technology, even people – into or out of the city.

Their scale surpassed that of most trading companies.

And Godfather Moretti’s Salvatore Family.

Ostensibly, their main business was usury based on casinos and gambling, but behind the scenes, they were a heinous group involved in every crime imaginable, including kidnapping, human trafficking, and contract killings.

Thus, with their different primary businesses, they had maintained a strange symbiotic relationship in the suburban areas of Omega Detroit for decades, reigning as rulers in the shadows.

Moretti nodded, seemingly satisfied with the other two’s reactions.

“Then, if I handle this eastern suburban issue, can I assume I get that territory?”

“Do as you please.”

“Go ahead, Chairman.”

Isadora and Chen Wei agreed without any particular objection.

A faint smile appeared on Moretti’s lips.

“Since it came up, I should take care of it right away. I’ll leave first.”

Godfather Moretti, as if there was no more time to delay, left the two bosses and rose from his seat first.

As soon as he left the banquet hall, Madam Isadora’s face contorted in overt disgust, and she muttered.

“Seriously, what a pervert.”

Chen Wei, the master of the Black Tiger Gang, who had been silently drinking tea, slowly turned to look at her.

Madam Isadora shrugged and replied.

“I’m talking about that Saintess girl. I saw her briefly in a video, and she was astonishingly pretty. He’s probably just horny. He’s as despicable as his business.”

Chen Wei asked in a low voice.

“Is that something for Madam to say?”

“What!”

Isadora snapped back, flaring up.

“There are so many girls in the back alleys with nowhere to go. The streets are full of kids selling their bodies for a few pennies, then dying miserably from STDs. If they’re going to be discarded like that anyway, isn’t it much more humane for me to take them in and manage them?”

A heavy silence fell for a moment.

Chen Wei didn’t reply further and rose from his seat.

“Anyway, I’m busy with port matters, so I’ll be taking my leave.”

After he too left, Madam was left alone in the seat.

Only a desolate silence lingered in the empty banquet hall.

Isadora picked up her wine glass and walked to the window.

Looking down at the city’s night view spread beneath her, she let out a deep sigh and muttered to herself.

“Truly… a city filled with trash.”

==========

Godfather Salvatore Moretti, upon returning to his hideout after leaving the hotel, immediately asked his shadow-like confidant.

His voice, unlike the leisurely chat from just before, was cold and sharp.

“Have you finished assessing the cult’s strength?”

“Yes, Boss. I hear they’ve hired a large number of former mercenary bodyguards called ‘Guardians.’ Upon checking their backgrounds, they’ve been confirmed as mercenaries possessing combat cybernetics of Class 4 to 6.”

Moretti stroked his chin for a moment.

“Class 4 to 6, huh… Is that about the level of a decent police company? Quite impressive for a new organization. It seems this pseudo-religion is doing surprisingly well.”

He chuckled.

Even so, they were in a different league altogether compared to his ‘Family.’

The Salvatore Family had dominated the northern suburban area of Omega Detroit for decades, staining it with blood.

The quantity of forces they could mobilize, and their quality, were incomparable to a flimsy new organization.

‘A pseudo-cult of that level… a couple of capos, no…’

Moretti lit his cigar and ordered.

“Just gather all the available guys.”

A momentary bewilderment flickered across the confidant’s face.

“A-all of them, Boss?”

“Yes. If we’re going to do it, we should be thoroughly prepared. This is a ‘war,’ after all.”

Moretti leisurely exhaled smoke.

In truth, even as he said it, he himself thought that committing this much force to this matter was quite excessive.

Mobilizing all of the Family’s spare forces to deal with a mere emerging pseudo-cult didn’t make financial sense.

But he had a clear reason why he had to commit such strength.

“And that woman, the ‘Saintess.’ Make sure she isn’t harmed, capture her very gently, and bring her to me.”

The confidant immediately understood the intention and bowed his head deeply.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Boss.”

“With this many personnel deployed, make absolutely sure that woman doesn’t sneak away. Understood!”

“Yes, sir!”

As the confidant hurriedly left the room, Moretti’s hideout instantly became busy.

Orders were relayed via radio, and the organization members began to move in perfect order.

Dozens, then soon hundreds of forces, gathered swiftly at the designated assembly point.

“Lorenzo Family, arrived at the assembly point. Ready to move at any time.”

“Don Marco and 27 others, departing for the target area immediately.”

Listening to the incessant radio reports, Moretti smiled with satisfaction.

The new territories in the eastern suburbs he had been eyeing for a while.

Furthermore, a woman whose appearance he quite liked.

He intended to obtain everything he wanted from this affair.

Moretti didn’t doubt for a moment that everything would proceed perfectly according to his will.

===================

It was merely two hours.

For the hundreds of Salvatore Family elite forces that had entered 13th Street to disappear without a trace…

It took merely two hours.

And it was only thirty minutes.

The time it took for Godfather Moretti himself, hidden deep within the hideout that was like the heart of the Family, to be discovered, and to be dragged out by his throat like a beast.

It took only thirty minutes.

“Keoheok…!”

Moretti, helplessly caught by a rough hand, was dragged out like a dog, regardless of whether he fell.

The dignity of the Godfather who once reigned as a king outside the city, who commanded the northern suburbs, was nowhere to be seen.

On the street outside the hideout he was dragged from, the Family’s elite bodyguards, who until just moments ago would have been his loyal shields, lay flat, their forms unrecognizable.

On the blood-soaked pavement, dozens of unfamiliar mercenaries in blood-drenched combat attire looked around menacingly.

‘Wh-what are these things…?!’

Moretti thought in terror.

According to what his subordinate had investigated, the ‘Guardians,’ the main force of the cult, all wore black priestly robes.

But the individuals gathered here now were wearing various different combat uniforms and mercenary gear.

However, there was one commonality: without exception, they all had blood-red rosaries with a holy symbol tightly wrapped around their necks, wrists, or waists.

Moretti didn’t know its meaning, but that blood-red color signified that they wouldn’t hesitate to shed blood for their god.

It was the mark of the so-called ‘Los Salvados’ (The Saved Ones).

Being dragged along, Moretti felt like he was going to lose his mind.

‘Crazy… They’re all crazy…’

The very fact that such an armed force was on standby was beyond common sense.

Considering how helplessly his own elite Family bodyguards had been wiped out, those individuals must have been top-tier mercenaries, at least all equipped with military-grade cybernetics.

But did that even make sense?

Of course, Moretti himself could have hired such a force if he had poured in his accumulated wealth.

But the problem was the upkeep.

The more powerful the weapon, the more precise and delicate management it required.

Constantly bearing the enormous costs of expensive inhibitors, continuous software adjustments, and top-of-the-line cybernetic maintenance was… an immense burden, even for a mafia godfather.

That was why even he hired top-tier mercenaries only on a short-term basis when absolutely necessary.

‘Then those guys, did they anticipate my plan beforehand and hire this many mercenaries?’

No, his attack was close to a surprise.

That’s why he hadn’t even imagined that such a full-scale counterattack would come.

So, he couldn’t understand it at all.

To keep cyborg mercenaries of this level on standby in such numbers would require truly astronomical maintenance costs.

It wasn’t a scale that a mere back-alley organization could handle.

‘Unless it’s the financial power of a mega-corporation, a so-called megacorp…’

Suddenly, a chillingly ominous thought flashed through his mind like lightning.

‘Don’t tell me… Did I interfere with some secret plan of a megacorp?’

Yes, from the beginning, nothing made sense logically.

An emerging religious group suddenly dominating a district overnight, expanding its influence at such a rapid pace.

Perhaps there was a colossal entity behind this cult that he dared not touch.

Clutching at straws, he harbored the futile hope that he might be able to save his life using his long-standing underworld connections and hurriedly asked.

“You, who do you guys belong to…?! Novacore? Or the Yashima Group?!”

However, the man dragging the Godfather by his throat merely growled in response.

“Shut your mouth. One more word, and I’ll rip that trap of yours apart.”

Pure killing intent, devoid of any playfulness, laced the low voice.

It wasn’t a mere threat.

Moretti felt the true fear of death and unknowingly wet his pants.

After being dragged for a while longer, the man spoke briefly into the communicator on his wrist.

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

“Sector all clear. Target secured.”

A moment later, a calm voice came from the other side of the radio.

“Confirmed. We will escort the Saintess now.”

Saintess… At that name, Moretti’s body convulsed once more.

A moment later, the regular sound of footsteps, click-clack, was heard from the darkness.

The presence grew closer and finally stopped in front of him.

Moretti laboriously lifted his head.

And their eyes met.

The image of a girl, beautiful as a dream, whom he had only seen in photographs.

However, her face, instead of the gentleness Moretti had fallen for, was filled only with an icy chill.

Piercingly blue eyes looked down at him.

“So, you wanted to meet me?”