God of Crime: Strongest Mafia Boss



The situation was tense and Miguel felt his body go rigid.

"...Death?"

"Yep. Death or is it too tacky? Perhaps a little cringe?"

Then like a lie, the pressure on him vanished and the being that seemed larger than life now simply looked like an ordinary man with a cloak —As ordinary as something like this could be.

'What is happening.'

Feeling all the strength leave his leg, Miguel slumped on the ground,

"Damn. Is my Nickname so bad? I tried, you know? But hell, finding a good nickname that is also awe-inspiring and rolls well on the tongue is pretty hard."

"Haha…"

Miguel let out a chuckle. But it was one made out of despair rather than any form of amusement.

He understood well what was happening.

The person in front of him was playing around with him. Like a cat playfully playing with its prey before completely tearing it apart in the most brutal way or simply taking one bite after another.

"What do you want from me?"

The man stopped speaking, "Well…What do I want? Honestly, I don't know."

He could hear a laugh in the voice of the man who called himself Death.

"Honestly? I just kinda want to kill you and your brother you know? Less a hassle and like, no one would miss you. Just two more criminals dying. Nothing important, you know?"

Miguel shivered, he could feel the indifference in the voice of the man. A sort of boredom even. Their life held no meaning for him.

"But you did not kill us."

"Yeah, I did not. I thought, perhaps you might be useful. Useful enough that I wouldn't mind suffering the hassle that it would take to keep you alive and make sure that you aren't about to betray me."

As Death spoke, an hourglass appeared on the table and the grain of sand slowly started to trickle.

This was a lifeline and Miguel knew it.

His next words and actions would determine how this would things would end and if he would walk out alive with his brother.

Standing up, Miguel adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. He felt like he was a student about to present his work to his teacher.

Only in this case, what he was risking was far more than a simple bad mark on his records.

"Personally speaking, My brother and I are relatively good Hunters. Between bronze and silver ranks. I know this is nothing compared to you, sir but we are still highly valuable as assets."

"Hum…"

"Of course, our value is the least important thing we can bring you. The organization we created is still relatively major and important despite being in Las Vegas. We have many alliances with different gangs and as we are holding a casino, we can bring a large amount of money to you."

"Money, huh? Money is good. True but I can simply kill you, you know? and trust me, I have a way to make sure you would give me all your bank accounts with a happy smile."

A shiver went down Miguel's spine and he could feel cold sweat on his back. The growing amount of disinterest was clear in the man's voice and he felt like a clock was slowly ticking.

His eyes briefly landed on the hourglass, more than half of the sand was already on the other side. Tension grew and his heartbeat accelerated.

Despite all of this — He showed no fluster on his face.

Miguel was scared, positively frightened even. Few could look at Death and not feel fear.

But more than anything, he knew that the life of his brother depended on his next few words.

He knew that now was the acting of his life, quite literally, he had to give his greatest performance.

Taking a great breath to calm his wildly beating heart, he looked straight ahead,

"Money is indeed not something particularly important. After a hunter reaches a certain level, money becomes less of a concern, at least for the daily matter. But I believe that in this world, you can never have enough money."

"Heh, true. Continue."

"Firstly, we are a very big casino and we bring out around 4 to 5 million dollars a day. This is even more so when it comes to the supernatural side, rather than simple money, they usually bet assets of the supernatural world. From cursed objects to special weapons and other such objects."

"Is that so?"

For the first time, he could feel interested in the voice of Death and Miguel understood then, that this was his chance.

Like a thirsty man pouncing on a bottle of water, he immediately went on this.

"I believe that the most important thing and advantageous for you is the fact that people like gambling and the richer they are, the more they lack to gamble. This brings a group of special people together, people of the very rich group who have a great deal of influence."

"Influential you say?"

"Yes. Money is important but without the right channel, no matter how much money you have, you cannot obtain what you want. I can give you the channel. At the very least, I can help in creating more channels for you."

Miguel was slowly having a harder time keeping his expression in check, he could see that the sand in the hourglass nearly finished falling, and the time remaining for him was near nothing.

Despite this, Death said nothing and the despair in his heart continued to grow.

Would he die like this? Was this how the Fernandez brother ended?

Then, something struck him as he remembered the words of the man, and he understood what he had to do.

"I am willing to become your dog."

"Oh?"

"No. Just a dog. If you want me to bark, I will. If you want me to crawl, I will. I will put my life in your hands."

Miguel finally understood he had been talking as if he was facing an investor or business partner.

What he was facing was a jester. A cat who wanted to torment him.

Keeping his pride intact?

In this situation this was useless.

What he had to do was thoroughly and completely step on his pride and shatter it to pieces.

"Not just a dog. I am willing to become your loyal servant. No, make me your servant please."

He kneeled, without the slightest hesitation or resentment on his face.

"So…I beg you…Spare my brother."

"So, only you would become my slave?"

"Yes! I am willing to do anything! I alone am enough. My brother is rash and stupid, he will not be able to do anything for you, and in fact, his hot-headedness would cause you useless problems."

"How touching." "How touching."

"Very well." "Very well."

"I will spare you and your brother." "I will spare you and your brother."

What Miguel didn't know was that— A discussion of the same kind was happening with his brother, just right next to him.

Watching the two brothers kneel and swear allegiance to him nearly at the same time while begging to keep the other brother away, nearly made Adam laugh.

Their brotherly love was truly admirable.

Now then — How could he use it in his best interest?

(AN: Lol, Adam slowly feels more like the bad guy of the story rather than the hero.)