What kind of ideology or technology could have conceived such a place?
While the room was certainly situated indoors, the floor and walls were all dominated by the exact same shade of white, blurring the boundaries that demarcated them, making it difficult to grasp the room’s true dimensions.
There was also no furniture or decor – save for a few exceptions – and no visible entrances or exits.
With nothing to serve as a reference point, the whole space could only be described with one word: confusing.
“…”
And yet, the reason why the man standing — presumably — at the center of the room held his breath in discomfort was not due to the strange environment.
He was surrounded by a round table, reminiscent of a hollowed-out circular conference desk.
This, too, was completely white, blending seamlessly into the room, as if to ensure that there would be no point of reference whatsoever.
Nine seats were gathered around the white round table.
No one could be seen seated on them.
Instead, what “existed” in their place were merely floating space monitors that displayed only a Roman numeral.
These monitors were arranged in a clockwise order.
However, three of them – Ⅱ, Ⅵ, and Ⅶ – remained blank.
Even so, the man standing at the center could feel the piercing gaze and silent pressure radiating from the monitors displaying numbers Ⅰ through Ⅸ.
It was an unbearable tension, akin to that of a defendant awaiting a verdict. Sweat streamed down his face like a waterfall.
To him, the oppressive silence felt as though he had been standing here forever.
And then, in the next instant, the silence was suddenly broken.
“─────Now then, shall we begin the emergency meeting?”
As the empty seats labeled ‘Ⅱ’ and ‘Ⅶ’ lit up, a young man’s voice — remarkably clear despite coming from a monitor — resounded powerfully through the stark white room.
“Oh, come on, where’s your usual pretentious greeting?”
“Ku-kaka, even Number 2, notorious for his idle chatter, seems to be on edge this time.”
“No kidding. I guess the ever popular Masquerade must really have everyone spooked. Normally, we’d be lucky just to get half the seats filled even for a regular meeting, but this time, despite being on short notice, eight seats are present.”
The response to this declaration of the meeting’s commencement came not from the young man himself but from two others — a seemingly elderly man and a middle-aged man, who both sneered at him. Their voices emerged from the monitors labeled ‘Ⅴ’ and ‘Ⅷ,’ respectively.
“My apologies. It seems I was somewhat shaken by the fact that the usual latecomers and absentees have arrived before me.”
However, ‘Ⅱ’ was not one to be outdone.
His words carried an unspoken mockery: ‘Even the reclusive badgers seem to have rushed here today.’ He seemed to say.
Those on the receiving end of this remark understood its implication. From monitor ‘Ⅷ,’ a tongue clicked. From ‘Ⅴ,’ a displeased chuckle.
“……Shall we put an end to this farce already?
As someone directly involved, I’d like to move this along quickly, if you don’t mind.”
A woman’s voice, sounding far more irritable than the others, cut through the conversation. It came from the monitor labeled ‘Ⅶ.’
“My apologies. As someone entrusted with the head number of the ‘Snake,’ I thought it only proper to bite back when bitten.”
Number Ⅱ responded with his usual affected manner of speech, prompting a scoff from ‘Ⅶ,’ as if his pretentiousness irritated her even more.
“Hmph, and that’s exactly why I say you talk too much, No. Ⅱ.
But for once, you all should shut up and prepare to criticize—because now, you’re finally going to hear about that loud-mouthed girl’s blunder.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, boy…”
While ‘Ⅶ’ was always quick to anger, the unusual part was her self-deprecating remark. Even through the monitors, the others seemed to tense up, as if they were holding their breath. Was the situation really that scary?
“Then, Ms. Ⅶ, please report the details of the incident, the damage assessment, and the current situation.”
“I was going to, even if you didn’t ask… This report is based on what the man standing there — Venom — and the soldiers who brought him back have told us, as well as the ongoing investigation that has confirmed certain details.”
After opening with that, ‘Ⅶ’ began her report.
She detailed everything that happened until now, incorporating various testimonies, video evidence, assorted data, and even Venom’s own statements.
Everything began when Venom went rogue and acted on his own, then Six mobilized to punish him, only to happen upon Masquerade.
From then on was a series of unfortunate events: the exposure of classified information regarding the Apostle Weapons, the revelation of Masquerade’s weaknesses, the battle behind the live event, Six’s ultimate objective, the outcome of that clash, the confirmed damages, and the undeniable reality of Masquerade’s overarching scheme.
Despite being in a foul mood and being understandably frustrated, ‘Ⅶ’ delivered the facts in a steady, controlled voice. Unfortunately, this was far from the end.
In an organization like that of the Snake, no one could keep their seat without being able to take action. That was not how things worked here.
So, of course—
“While gathering intelligence, I issued orders for the erasure of all data from the facilities that had been seized by hostile forces. I mobilized my personal troops and operatives.
I made sure to cover all traces, but unfortunately, not a single one of my operatives has returned after completing their mission.”
“……The cause?”
“Organizations – both official and unofficial – were there. It was as if they had been waiting for us.
All our eyes and ears in the place either betrayed us or were neutralized.
We’re still investigating it, so it’s yet to be confirmed properly, but it appears that this is all part of Masquerade’s message to us. A threat, so to speak.”
Yes, the opponent standing before them was not one who cared one whiff about the Snake’s reputation.
Even all of this was but a small part of his schemes.
Yet already, he has caused so much damage.
As such, the Snake had no choice but to severely narrow their options.
In that regard, no one present doubted that ‘Ⅶ’ had made the correct decisions.
The actions she had taken were indeed inevitable.
However, it was all too easy to see that Masquerade had still anticipated all of their moves.
And ‘Ⅶ’ understood that.
So, her next words were laced with a bitter, self-mocking smile.
“And for even more delightful news—
We’ve been ordered to remain alert for now.
I wonder where the budget for that came from?
Oh, and speaking of which—
It seems our operational funds have mysteriously disappeared too.
Any thoughts on that?”
“……So our money is being used for ‘public security.’”
A silent jab. A cynical remark. Or perhaps a deliberate provocation.
There was no need to ponder who was behind it, how the funds had been redirected, or who was now benefiting from them.
The answer was already painfully obvious.
“Thanks to this, even the other organization in the underworld that are unrelated to this incident are not expanding their influence but instead lying low in caution.
The police and countermeasure department aren’t taking this as an opportunity for greed; rather, they’re focusing on suppressing us and maintaining public order.
So, the usual tactic of taking advantage of the chaos won’t work this time.”
In such a situation, establishing a new base would be difficult.
The movements of people and goods were under the heaviest scrutiny — both in the legal and illegal worlds.
In essence, this meant that Snake had lost their grip on that entire domain.
This domain was not just on the level of a mere country or continent. No.
It referred to a third of the entire planet.
“…”
A silence of utter shock filled the air, but that couldn’t be helped.
Each one of these seats have already picked up bits of information through their own intelligence networks.
There have been reports of coordinated crackdowns in the regions overseen by ‘Ⅶ’ and ‘Ⅱ,’ and that on the same day, the Snake’s forces have clashed too with Masquerade, suffering heavy losses.
But the real situation was even worse than what they had imagined.
They had been completely used — and utterly defeated.
The Apostle Weapons were completely ineffective, and their weaknesses were now widely known across both worlds.
Satellite weapons have been shot down.
Bases and personnel have been lost, and on a scale so vast that even the word “catastrophic” felt insufficient to describe it.
To make matters worse, replenishing those losses immediately was impossible.
Even ‘Ⅴ’ and ‘Ⅷ,’ who were normally quick to mock and criticize any failure, were left speechless.
Though they did not say it aloud, deep down, they acknowledged how remarkable it was that Ⅶ’s faction had managed to gather and analyze this much information in just two days since the incident at the concert.
“…Hey, mind if I confirm something?
“What?”
“Calm down. Don’t bite. Believe it or not, I actually sympathize with you, you know?
Really, no one here thinks this was your mistake. We’re not that stupid.”
No one objected to ‘Ⅷ’’s words, which implied “you’re more of a victim here.”
Had this been solely ‘Ⅶ’’s report, there might have been skepticism, but ‘Ⅱ’ had confirmed the details, and Venom’s testimony further reinforced the credibility.
Above all, the story was just too outlandish to be a mere fabrication.
And looking at the actual cause of this disaster, it was clear—
She had simply been caught in the middle and forced to deal with the consequences.
“But because of that, there are two things we absolutely need to confirm.
First—if your bases were completely wiped out, then where the hell were you at the time?
And second—why did it take until today for us to hear about this?”
That is, assuming there was no suspicion surrounding them.
The fact that she was able to attend to this meeting meant that she was alive.
However, just because she was alive did not mean that she was their friend.
After all, it was entirely possible for her to be under Masquerade’s or another organization’s influence.
The amount of information gathered in just two days was indeed impressive.
But given the gravity of the situation.
Even for an organization as unconventionally structured as Snake, a two-day delay in the first report was just too long.
So this was an issue that needed to be addressed immediately.
“Ah, my apologies. I should have explained that part first.”
“I, too, must apologize. It seems I was still somewhat shaken.”
One responded casually, unfazed.
The other, overly polite, almost to a fault.
Both of them pulled up various data on their respective monitors.
Among them—
One detail stood out: while their locations differed, both currently displayed coordinates within Garesto.
And considering the distance from Earth, reaching there in just two days would have been nearly impossible.
“Interesting.”
“So, you weren’t even on Earth in the first place.”
The fact that no one voiced suspicion despite this revelation was due to a simple reason: the data displayed hadn’t been entered manually.
It was retrieved from the system directly.
And this was a system that they all trusted wholeheartedly.
This communication relied on a unique, undisclosed technology developed by Snake—one even the members here did not have full access to.
The system was linked to each Numbers member individually, making impersonation impossible.
Furthermore, it recorded precise location data and biometric information, ensuring that neither could be falsified. It even contained functions to detect potential information leaks or whether someone was under detention or coercion. The monitors displayed a clear “negative” for both.
“Well, considering what’s about to happen, it’s hard to say if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“Haha, no kidding.”
“Being captured and interrogated might have been the easier option.”
Perhaps it was because Number Ⅱ, who usually spoke with such ease, now sounded utterly exhausted.
Or perhaps it was because they understood all too well that the burdens awaiting the two were beyond imagination.
The voices of Number Ⅷ and the woman of Number Ⅳ carried a sense of amusement.
Regardless of how they moved forward, it would be difficult without the support of the other Numbers.
Seeing this as an opportunity to hold a favor over them, some were already thinking of ways to use this situation to their advantage.
Number Ⅶ was aware of this but chose to prioritize answering the other lingering concern.
“The delay in reporting was partly because we were in Garesto, but also because that bastard destroyed our communication hubs. It took over half a day just for the first report to reach anyone.”
“Ahh, I see. That makes sense.
None of the lower-ranked soldiers or infiltration agents—Venom included—would have access to a direct line to us anyway.”
Given their frequent contact with enemy factions and rival organizations, it was unthinkable for Snake, a secretive organization, to grant its highest members direct communication channels with subordinates.
And with their bases wiped out, there was no one left for them to report to.
Their only option was to travel to a territory controlled by another Numbers member and seek out local operatives.
In this era of advanced communications, the fact that such a delay had occurred was a testament to how effectively they had been cut off.
“The fact that we’re a secret organization ended up backfiring on us.”
“More like Masquerade intended for just that. But honestly, how did you manage to get word out in just half a day?
Given the condition of your equipment, just moving around should have taken longer.”
“We got lucky, Mr. Ⅴ.
The underground broker they approached for transportation just happened to be one of my subordinates.
That was how the information finally reached me.
From there, I immediately relayed it to Ms. Ⅶ.”
“After that, we spent an entire day just confirming the bare minimum and trying to respond.
Hah, and to think that bastard had the nerve to say, ‘If you report everything, I’ll let you go.’
Masquerade, that piece of trash—he’s got the worst personality ever!”
Perhaps she had finally reached her limit, or maybe recalling the events reignited her anger, but regardless, Number Ⅶ exploded in frustration, and the others looked at her with even more sympathy.
With almost all doubt removed, she was now just an unfortunate girl who had drawn the short straw.
And since it was easy to imagine that anyone else in her position would have suffered the same fate, there was little appetite for blame.
“─────Pfft.”
However.
A voice suddenly cut through the somewhat warm, if pitying, atmosphere.
It wasn’t an intentional remark—rather, it had slipped out, unable to be suppressed.
It completely disregarded the mood of the room.
And in the next instant—
“Heh… Kuhaha! Ahaha! What the hell is this? Hahahahahaha!”
The sound erupted from the monitor labeled ‘Ⅸ.’
Unrestrained laughter.
The echo of someone pounding repeatedly on something in sheer amusement was so loud and vivid that it might as well have been sound effects from a cheap variety show.
“Hahahaha! He really went that far! Ahaha, damn, my stomach hurts!”
The laughter belonged to a young man, even younger than Number Ⅱ.
Not quite a boy, but not quite a full-grown adult either.
His voice suggested he had passed his teenage years but had not yet reached his mid-twenties.
And yet, here he was, laughing so hard he was practically gasping for air, as if every single aspect of this situation was utterly hilarious.
“Number Ⅸ, what exactly are you laughing at?”
“Yeah, and since when were you the type to do this?
Every time you show up, meetings pass with you barely saying more than two or three words—what the hell is this?”
“Hahaha… Ahh, sorry, sorry!
I’ve been in a really good mood lately, hehe.
And for some reason, hah, I just can’t stop laughing these days! Hahahaha!”
Even as he responded to Number Ⅴ’s reprimand and Number Ⅷ’s skepticism, the sound of clapping and laughter continued.
It was as if he simply couldn’t get enough.
Then, for the first time in the meeting, a composed, elderly woman’s voice came from the monitor labeled ‘Ⅲ.’
“Number Ⅸ, my dear boy… what exactly do you find so amusing?”
“Huh? What else? Masquerade’s completely insane tactics, of course.
Hahah, in just one night, with a single move, he—haha!
He pulled all this off! Ahahahahaha!”
The sheer contrast was almost eerie.
Number Ⅸ, who had barely spoken in previous meetings, was now laughing uncontrollably.
If not for the system’s security making impersonation impossible, they might have suspected someone else was masquerading as him.
But everyone here knew that was simply not possible.
“…………”
Most of the others were either baffled or slightly unnerved.
However, from Number Ⅲ’s monitor, a quiet, skeptical sigh escaped—though few noticed.
Most simply chose to ignore the situation, acting as if it wasn’t happening.
“…Leaving aside the fact that our newest member seems to have snapped, it’s fair to say we severely underestimated the situation.
We were so focused on his raw power that we neglected to analyze his personality.”
“We can’t even say for sure he’s a man, but I agree with you.
At best, we assumed he was just an overwhelmingly powerful figure who played at being a villain.
In reality, he’s far more troublesome than that… Now I understand why Six was so desperate.”
“Not only that, but he’s cunning and experienced at this.
If there was even a slim chance of eliminating him, of course Six would jump at it.
He’s unpredictable in the worst possible way.”
Numbers Ⅱ, Ⅷ, and Ⅴ all came to the same conclusion:
They had failed to properly assess Masquerade, and to some extent, they could sympathize with Six’s actions.
But not everyone shared this sentiment.
“Hey, instead of just agreeing among yourselves, could you explain it for the rest of us?
I agree that we never really analyzed Masquerade as a person.
I’ve always felt something was off when it came to his motivations.
But this time especially—moving on such a massive scale just to protect his own weakness?
I can’t wrap my head around that.”
The one who voiced her doubt was Number Ⅳ.
And it wasn’t an unreasonable question.
A being with such overwhelming power going to such lengths to defend what was supposedly his only weakness—
It did seem like an odd contradiction.
But—
“That’s not the point. That part is still within the realm of normal. If I had to guess, it’s like this—he happened to find a pet he liked, and by chance, it turned out to be a venomous creature that required a bit of caution to keep. That’s probably how he sees it.”
Number Ⅷ framed his explanation in a way that highlighted the difference in perspective by showing how something when viewed from the outside could hold completely a different value and risk when viewed from the inside.
“Hmm, that’s actually quite a fitting analogy.
Well, having subordinates with hostility or treacherous intent is nothing new.
Compared to those, this so-called weakness seems almost cute.”
“True.
But what’s really insane is how, almost instantly after his weakness was exposed, he came up with this countermeasure and executed it without hesitation… That’s just not normal.”
The first to respond to Number Ⅷ’s words, which seemed directed at everyone, was the person who had suffered the most at Masquerade’s hands—Number Ⅶ.
“…Hah. Unbelievable… I was defeated by someone like that?”
She scoffed, but there was no strength in her voice.
It was as if she was trying to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but all that came out was a bitter realization.
“Ms. Ⅶ?”
“It’s ridiculous.
Even with all that overwhelming combat power, his thinking is cowardly.”
“…Cowardly?”
“If he really believed he had the ability to cause this much damage, just issuing a threat—telling us not to touch the Songstress—would have been enough.
Even for us, the Snake, attacking someone under his protection immediately after suffering this level of destruction would be unthinkable.”
It was obvious to anyone what would follow—an even greater act of retaliation.
Including this time, Masquerade had already demonstrated, twice, his ability to shake the entire world.
That alone was deterrent enough.
“I see. Normally, if he went that far… I get it now. That’s why you call him ‘cowardly.’”
“It’s an accurate assessment.
Rather than hiding his weakness, he went out of his way to admit it,
forced us to prove it ourselves,
and then used that as leverage to stop us from making a move on the Songstress.
It was practically a taunt—’Are you sure you want to do this? My precious weakness might disappear.’
An incredibly effective move, but in other words…”
“…He couldn’t feel at ease unless we also saw a reason to keep her alive?
A monster capable of doing all this went this far just to erase that tiny bit of uncertainty!?”
Number Ⅳ raised her voice in disbelief, though part of her already suspected it was true.
The idea was so far outside her understanding that she wanted someone to deny it.
But no one in the room spoke against it.
“If I may add—
The only ones who consider her singing to be his sole weakness are outsiders.
For someone as cowardly as him, it’s likely that he doesn’t see it as merely another threat added to the list.
Instead of overemphasizing it as a weakness, he turned it into a shield to protect himself.”
“Kukaka… what a ridiculous thought process.
As if to say, ‘There are plenty of things that could threaten me, what’s one more?’
A monster that single-handedly threatened two worlds, and yet…”
Masquerade’s actions had resulted in something unprecedented and massive.
However, when looking at the motivations behind it,
the extravagant movements and their underlying logic,
it was almost as if he had been frantically trying to eliminate every potential source of anxiety.
Despite the overwhelming achievements and his confident, almost arrogant demeanor,
the person behind it all seemed to be something entirely different.
“…Summarizing everything we’ve seen so far, I suppose it looks something like this?
Paranoid, yet capable of bold decision-making.
Sloppy at first glance, yet highly meticulous in execution.
Quick to act, ruthless in follow-through, but heavily influenced by personal preference.
Despite working alone, he manipulates others through threats, negotiations, and bribes,
and has extensive experience dealing with underground organizations…
Honestly, that’s an irritating combination.”
Even as she said it, Number Ⅳ felt a sense of contradiction—perhaps even unfairness.
It was a mix of traits that canceled out weaknesses while making him completely unpredictable.
On top of that, he had the cunning to actively use other people to his advantage.
As an opponent, he was the last kind of enemy anyone would want to face.
“What’s truly insane is that someone with such monstrous power actually sees his power as nothing more than a tool to be used… Is he even sane?”
There was a slight tremble in his voice as he spat out the words.
A strange disconnect between the immense power that had shaken the world and the person wielding it.
With that kind of power at his disposal, why did he come across as such a cautious, calculating figure?
Number Ⅷ’s words carried a quiet horror at the nature of the being behind the mask.
Silence followed.
Perhaps because they found the reasoning sound.
Perhaps because the implications were terrifying.
Or perhaps because they simply couldn’t comprehend it.
“────That is enough. There is no use dwelling on this any further.”
The silence was broken by Number Ⅲ, her dignified voice cutting through the growing unease.
With just a few words, she suppressed the creeping fear and revulsion toward Masquerade and whatever lurked behind that mask.
“…You’re right. I suppose we let his abnormality get to us for a moment.”
“My bad, I might’ve pushed too hard.
But people with this kind of cowardice… they’re always the worst kind of opponent.
I wanted to make sure we were all on the same page about that.”
“No, it was a necessary point to raise.
Besides, it’s better that we realized this now rather than the moment we face him at a critical juncture.”
“A steep price to pay for the lesson—
Or should I say, just an unavoidable expense?
In any case, it feels like we poked at a bush and out came a hydra.”
“I get the sentiment, but that’s a complicated metaphor coming from a Snake.”
“Hmm… A monster that possesses intelligence and knows how to use people?”
“Not even a mythical hero could take that down.”
They were all seasoned veterans of the underworld.
And they were self-aware enough to recognize that their moment of hesitation had bordered on fear.
So, they deliberately exchanged lighthearted remarks to shake off the tension.
Then, as naturally as she had cut through the unease, Number Ⅲ returned to the matter at hand, her voice practiced and composed.
“Now then, considering Masquerade is an opponent even the mightiest of heroes would flee from,
the question is—how should we, the Snake, respond?”
“Given that he decimated our forces, retaliation would be the expected course of action,
but no matter how you look at it, attacking him would only result in greater losses.”
“Judging by his words alone, he seems to have weak spots we could exploit…
But any gaps in his defenses are covered by his sheer absurdity.
Defeating him wouldn’t just be difficult—it would be next to impossible.”
What should they do?
Everyone knew they had to decide.
This wasn’t a matter they could delay.
This wasn’t an opponent they could afford to treat lightly.
If they failed to establish a clear stance as an organization, they would expose vulnerabilities.
And through those vulnerabilities, Masquerade would tear them apart.
They all knew this.
But even so, when it came to choosing an actual course of action, silence hung over the room.
Perhaps that was why—
Amidst the background noise of Number Ⅸ’s continued laughter, the one to finally break the silence was someone who was not counted among “everyone in this room.”
“We must mobilize all of Snake’ forces and exterminate him!
If we do not take decisive action here, we will only be seen as weak!”
Venom, his face pale and slick with sweat from tension, raised his voice.
Ever since he had been forced to recount the series of events, he had been largely ignored.
But now, sensing that the conversation was veering toward fearful hesitation, he spoke up.
It wasn’t just a statement—it was a desperate plea.
A compulsion to stop the tide before it fully turned.
“He may be a formidable enemy, but in the end, he is just one man!
There must be a limit to what he can do!
If we assemble an even greater force than before and exploit his weakness, then surely we can—”
“Would you say our options are either aggressive retaliation or passive neglect?”
“Even if we strengthen our defenses, it’s meaningless against someone like him.”
“Then should we just keep running away and chalk it up to ‘unavoidable casualties’ whenever he strikes?”
“Hah… I wonder how many of us will still be here in a year—no, six months from now?”
“If even half of us remain, that would be impressive.”
“──What!?” Venom said.
No one was listening to him.
Worse still, the conversation had already moved past the point of even considering retaliation.
In fact, the way they spoke of the situation, it almost sounded as if they were passively accepting that their own numbers would be thinned.
“I… I understand that I have no right to speak in this meeting, but why are the Head Numbers being so spineless!?” Venom asked.
“…………”
But no one responded.
Instead, aside from the continued laughter of Number Ⅸ, the other monitors let out exaggerated sighs.
The air was thick with the unspoken sentiment that even engaging with him was a waste of time.
Unlike the vague curiosity they had shown before the meeting began, their disinterest now was blatant.
Venom broke into a cold sweat—not from tension, but from realization.
He hadn’t considered, even for a moment, that his argument might be seen as misguided.
“Number Ⅱ, should I handle this, since I was the one who brought him here?”
“If you would, please.”
A deep sigh escaped from Number Ⅶ, carrying the unmistakable weight of annoyance.
But when she spoke again, her voice was calm, composed—yet sharp and authoritative.
“Venom, do not misunderstand.
You were summoned here to provide testimony and to face judgment for your reckless actions.
As you well know, the punishment of a named member requires the agreement of at least three others of equal or higher rank.
You should feel honored—almost every single one of us Head Numbers will be passing judgment on you,” Seven said.
“I accept that… but at the very least, let me serve as an assassin to take him down!
He already knows my face—I can be used as bait—” Venom said.
“Your crimes begin with the theft of a prototype Apostle Weapon—”
“…!”
His plea was ignored entirely.
Number Ⅶ continued, listing his offenses without hesitation.
Interfering with and obstructing the assassination plan under Six’s command.
Killing a fellow Number—without mitigating circumstances, without justifiable cause.
“And lastly, speaking out in a Head Meeting without authorization.
And to make it worse, the content of your outburst was nothing but shallow, obvious nonsense.
Are you mocking us?” Seven said.
“N-no, of course not…!” Venom said.
Even though he couldn’t see her, the sheer weight of her presence made him feel as though he was being pierced by a sharp glare.
Number Ⅶ’s voice alone carried a force that pressed down on him.
She was likely younger than him in age, but the fact that she held her position was no accident.
“Kukuku… Poor guy, he’s scared stiff.
Well, since you’ve done some decent work in the past, I’ll at least explain why your idea is completely useless.
The highest priority for us Numbers is simple — the Snake must survive.
As long as we keep that in mind, everything else is up to us. That’s the beauty of sitting in these chairs.”
Number Ⅷ said it without hesitation, even boasting about how much profit he had made because of it.
Venom, who held a near-religious reverence for the organization, furrowed his brows at such words, though Number Ⅷ didn’t even acknowledge his reaction.
Instead, he laughed, openly mocking him.
“Your idea? Sure, there’s a chance we might win.
But the organization wouldn’t survive.
To even get that chance, we’d need exactly what you said—all of Snake’ forces.
Do you have any idea how many operations would grind to a halt?
Do you realize how massive the financial losses would be?
And even if we managed to scrape together that much firepower, we’d have to fight expecting complete annihilation.
Even if we somehow won — what would be left of Snake? What could we do afterward?
Brag about killing Masquerade?
Prove we retaliate no matter what?
Hah! What a joke. We’d be crushed before we even had the chance to celebrate.”
Everyone else had already understood this.
Number Ⅷ’s words, filled with irritation, were as much a venting of frustration as they were a scathing critique of Venom’s shallow thinking.
“………”
Venom was left speechless.
He wasn’t so stupid that he couldn’t comprehend what was being said.
And yet, the laughter of Number Ⅸ, still echoing through the room, now felt like it was directed at him personally.
The humiliation and shock made his legs unsteady, and he clutched his head in disbelief.
Then—
“─────Hey now, enough bullying the weak.”
A voice rang out.
It was familiar.
A voice they all knew well — one they shouldn’t be hearing again, not in this way.
It carried a mix of playfulness and intimidation, a tone that could never be ignored.
Venom was the first to react.
He whipped around, his face instantly losing all color — turning not just pale, but deathly white.
His mouth opened and closed, yet no words came out.
“…!?”
“Hah. How generous of you.”
A single man had suddenly appeared in the stark white conference hall.
From his features, he seemed to be an East Asian earthling.
His body, wrapped in muscle like a suit of armor, moved with the precision of a blade slicing through the air.
With an air of absolute confidence, he strode forward and took a seat—one that had been left empty.
“My, that was a quick recovery.
I was half-expecting you to sulk and call in sick this time.”
From beside him, Number Ⅶ spoke, her words laced with sharpness.
Even if she could logically accept what had happened—
Even if she understood it had been necessary—
If there was anyone to blame for the disaster aside from Masquerade himself,
the first name on that list would be the man before them.
No wonder she felt compelled to throw some sarcasm his way.
“────So, how does it feel to have been utterly outplayed,
Immortal Fang — Number Ⅵ?”
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