"Hey—ow! What the hell are you doing?!"

Billy staggered backward, dizzy from the blow, his vision spinning as he clutched his head.

What just happened?

Why did Boss Sol suddenly smash him in the head—with a gun, no less?!

By now, Caesar, Burnice, and the others had drawn their weapons, eyes narrowed in wariness at the group before them.

A young man in a sleek black leather trench coat.

A woman in a fitted black suit who looked every inch a bodyguard.

And behind them—a small army of armed thugs.

They had just strolled up out of nowhere—and already taken down Billy. Clearly, they hadn't come with good intentions.

"Who are you people? What do you want?" Caesar asked, her voice tense, her right fist coiling with energy as she prepared to strike.

She could tell at a glance—these people weren't ordinary.

"My apologies," Sol said calmly, a faint smile on his lips. "My hand slipped. I accidentally hit your man."

"That's your excuse?" Lucy's tone sharpened as she raised her spiked bat. "Never heard of anyone whose 'hand slipped' hard enough to throw a gun ten meters away."

"Well, you've heard of one now."

Sol's smile turned playful, almost taunting.

Originally, he'd only wanted to warn Billy—to get him to take his group elsewhere before they got tangled up in his operation.

But maybe... this change of plans would work too. If he just captured them all and interrogated them, his cover would stay safe.

"You're angering a lion!" Caesar roared, fire in her eyes. "The Sons of Calydon aren't people you can take down so easily!"

"..."

Sol looked her over, his expression freezing for a beat, the corner of his mouth twitching.

A lion? You?

Expressionless, he said flatly, "Aren't you... female?"

"Ah? Oh—right."

Caesar froze, scratching her head in embarrassment. "Sorry. It just sounded cool when I heard it in a movie."

Lucy sighed, dragging a hand down her face. This idiot! If you can't say something threatening, just don't! And even if you mess up, at least act like you didn't!

Lighter, wearing his usual tea-colored shades, saw Caesar falter and decided it was his time to shine.

He cracked his knuckles and stepped forward, his tone sharp with confidence. "Billy's gotten sloppy lately, that's why your sneak attack worked. But if it's a fight you want, I'll take you on!"

"Fine."

Sol nodded, faint amusement glimmering in his eyes.

This guy—Lighter. The name alone had him curious.

By now, the Black Panther gang members had all drawn their weapons.

They might not like it, but these were Chekkat's honored guests. Even if the guests were the ones stirring up trouble, they couldn't just stand by.

Jane twirled her twin pincer-blades in her hands, expression tight.

This was bad. The plan was in a crucial phase—and now they'd run into Sol and Anby's old acquaintances, who had almost blurted out their real names.

If Sol hadn't reacted fast enough, their cover would already be blown—their real identities exposed across New Eridu.

Now there was no other option but to control the situation by force.

"Mr. Pantalone," Jane asked quietly, "do we engage?"

"Engage," Sol said, smiling faintly. "Take them all down. The Outer Ring's a fine place to bet on. If we capture the infamous Sons of Calydon, it'll count as quite the achievement."

He drew two revolvers from Anby's case. The [All-Weapon Mastery] skill made the guns feel like extensions of his own body—graceful, natural, deadly.

Anby, meanwhile, set aside the gear she'd looted earlier and picked up a combat knife, ready for battle.

The Black Panther members hesitated for a moment. They weren't sure if they should be helping this guest expand his influence.

"Lord Chekkat's orders—everything follows Mr. Pantalone's lead!"

Jane's voice cut through the air, cold and commanding, as she dashed toward Caesar with flashing blades.

"Yes, ma'am!"

The rest of the Black Panthers followed, charging forward.

"You think you can take down the Sons of Calydon that easily?!"

Caesar's eyes blazed, her expression fierce, like an enraged lioness.

Jane's twin blades flashed, slicing toward Caesar's shoulder.

Clang!

Caesar lifted her shield just in time, blocking the lethal strike by mere inches.

"Anger might just help you win this fight, lioness," Jane said with a smirk, her sapphire eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Don't mention that!" Caesar's face reddened. "As the leader of the Sons of Calydon, I won't lose!"

Her words were strong, but deep down, she was worried.

This Thiren woman was fast—just as strong as she was. Maybe even stronger.

"Then I'll be watching," Jane said lightly, vanishing into motion again, her blades flashing all around Caesar.

All around them, chaos erupted.

The Black Panthers and the Sons of Calydon clashed in full force.

Piper hefted her massive axe, swinging it with a weary sigh as several gang members were knocked flying. "Man, city gangs have no manners. My back hurts, and I wasn't even in the mood to fight."

Then, spinning her weapon, she sent another few tumbling.

"Wahoo!" Burnice howled with laughter, dual flamethrowers blazing. "Bad boys—time for my special blend of premium fuel!"

Twin streams of searing fire engulfed the gangsters, making them leap away, screaming.

Lucy and the three little red pigs were locked in combat with Anby—their fight fierce but controlled, no one seriously hurt.

At first glance, it seemed like the Sons of Calydon were gaining the upper hand.

But Lighter wasn't celebrating.

He could see it—the Black Panthers were gathering reinforcements from all sides. If this dragged on, they'd lose for sure.

There was only one choice left: cut off the head.

And that "head" was clearly the calm man at the center of it all—Sol, the so-called [Wealthy Man].

Target locked, Lighter didn't hesitate. He raised his dual pistols, taking aim at Sol.

A rich guy, huh? Probably just a poser. Those revolvers are just props.

"Hey, Lighter," Sol said with a quiet smile, "you want to see who's faster?"

"Of course. I'm the fastest gun in the Outer Ring."

Lighter answered without hesitation—and pulled the trigger.

He wanted to laugh.

A guy who still asked questions before a duel? Classic amateur move.

Bang! Clang!

Bang! Clang!

Lighter's bullets never even left the barrels. Both of his pistols were shot clean from his hands, spinning through the air.

"What—?!"

His fingers went numb. Stunned, he stared at Sol, whose twin revolvers still smoked faintly.

At the very instant he'd pulled the trigger, Sol's bullets had hit his guns, disarming him completely.

"How naïve," Sol said, whistling softly. "You shouldn't wait for your opponent to finish talking before you shoot."

The revolvers spun gracefully in his fingers as he raised his hands in mock salute, smirking. "Maybe you really are the fastest gun in the Outer Ring—but you just don't know how to use one."

"..."

Lighter froze, speechless.

This bastard's a monster—cunning, arrogant, and too damn good.

Can't he at least leave me a shred of dignity?