Leader Zai and Despair Raids the World

The dining table is a long table.

According to the overall atmosphere of the Twilight Pavilion, everything is deliberately displayed to show the luxury of the owner of the house.

Silver carved candlesticks, hand-embroidered tablecloths on the long table top, and decorative vases placed on the table at an accurately calculated distance, among which delicate rose petals are even dotted with fresh drops of water.

On the dining table, the delicious food prepared by the chef has been placed.

As an appetizer, the grilled snails with garlic and parsley cream are carefully placed on a white porcelain plate. The baked scallop meat overflows with a natural and sweet aroma. A small and cute sauce pot is placed beside it, waiting for diners to pour it on Chef's secret sauce.

And the baked fragrant pre-dinner bread is also filled with small bamboo baskets, each of which is round and lovely, tempting to move your index finger.

Not to mention the goblets of French anisette in front of everyone. From those exquisite cups, the aroma of the wine with the smell of strange spices wafts out, bringing people back to the streets of Paris in an instant.

--only.

No one wants to enjoy the food anymore.

The young boy sat on the main seat, without any fear of being in a dark organization.

In other words... it would be more appropriate to describe it as "like a fish in water".

Anyone who has met the eyes of that unrestrained kite pupil should understand——

That is, indulging in the darkness, being at ease in the darkness, controlling, manipulating, and playing with the darkness with one's own power.

Eyes.

And after realizing this, no one even provokes "why don't you use honorifics to adults", "what gives you the right to sit in the throne" and so on.

Dazai ruled this person, and he was able to control people's hearts just by his words.

Unknowingly, the people in this room whose hands were stained with blood and who had done evil deeds had already started to move forward along that invisible puppet line.

"So. What's the name?"

Dazai asked with a smile.

The three people who have already taken the first three seats under the main seat do not need to be introduced again. They are rye whiskey, bourbon, and Scotch.

All three of them maintained a frozen silence, and did not interrupt the "heir" young master's pressure on the top members of the organization.

only…………

While lowering their eyes, would there be an obscure look flashing across their faces?

Even in the past few days when they kept close care and kept an eye on Osamu Dazai, they had never seen the boy's expression at this moment with their own eyes.

The child was just quiet, as if his whole body was exhausted, he just watched the adults rushing to and fro for his health.

However,

now.

……Could it be that.This "dark" talent.

Was it the reason "that gentleman" chose Osamu Dazai?

And the first one to speak was Belmode.

The beautiful woman pursed her lips and smiled slightly, raised the wine glass in front of her and nodded to the chief seat:

"I'm Belmode," she said with an ambiguous smile. "It seems that I am indeed a 'kind' of the dark side. Please give me your advice, young master."

With a smile, Belmode blinked his right eye briskly.

From this relaxed and happy expression, it is absolutely impossible to see the fear in her heart towards the gaze that seems to see through her own essence.

Dazai also smiled slightly, looking at Belmode.

"It's a beautiful lady." The boy said with a chuckle.

The next answer was also a woman.

She tied her long dark hair behind her head into a low ponytail with a hair tie, and the two strands of hair on her forehead hung down to her eyes, which was a recognizable hairstyle.

At this moment, she blinked those bright cat eyes, and said with a smile as if she had a gentle temper:

"I'm Kiel. Hello, young master."

Dazai smiled and nodded slightly.

The reaction of the third woman was completely different.

I don't know if it was Dazai's speech that annoyed her, or the few words of Belmode before the evening played a role. At this time, when everyone was maintaining a hypocritical scene that seemed harmonious on the surface, she was the only one who raised her eyebrows. The left eye with the pattern of a butterfly tail glared at the boy in the main seat with a disrespectful cold stare.

"What. Do you have something to say?"

Dazai asked.At the same time, she glanced at the male organization member sitting next to her.

Under that gaze, the man who was wearing a peaked cap and sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, which he never took off indoors, lowered his head in silence.

Evidently trying unsuccessfully to stop his partner, he whispered:

"...I'm Cohen. She's Chianti."

After saying this, he closed his mouth as if he couldn't figure out how to answer.

"Hey!!" The partner's compromising attitude obviously annoyed Chianti, and she growled angrily, "Don't shrink back! Are you a soft bone?!"

Contempt and disdain condensed in the eyes of that glaring Dazai Osamu:

"Calling such a kid who can strangle to death with one hand as the heir, is it true?! Are you kidding me!!!" Chianti sneered, "What else is it called 'Dazai Osamu'? Is it a new code name? it's so funny!!"

"Hmm." Dazai said, "I also guessed that someone should question it, but I didn't expect that the person who was used as a sacrifice to find the way was so stupid."

Visible to the naked eye, Chianti was irritated by this sentence: "Huh?! What are you talking about? Believe it or not, I will blow your head off with one shot?!"

At the same time, other people who heard these words took action.

"Hey, I can't pretend that I don't hear this sentence." Bourbon also showed a dangerous expression, his light-colored eyes narrowed slightly, "Are you saying——to put 'that Mister 'chosen heir to kill? Chianti?"

Scotland also smiled gently and kindly:

"Oh? That's amazing, Chianti. Do you just ignore the orders of 'that gentleman'?"

The complete opposite of that smile was the cold words that came out of his mouth.

Ley simply turned his gaze over.

That look took the place of words, uttering all unspoken death threats.

... Even Chianti, who is cold-blooded and aggressive, shrinks slightly under the eyes of everyone.

"What does, have anything to do with 'that gentleman'!" She still tried to keep her mouth shut, "How could I question the decision of 'that gentleman'?! I'm just... just, yes, just a little uneasy about this brat being the heir That's all!!"

"—Okay. Shut up, all."

Dazai interrupted the unspoken words of the others, and slightly raised his right hand, as if pressing the mute button in the room.

The instinct that had long been used to controlling power melted into his flesh and blood.

And it appears inadvertently in every move, making it impossible for people who are also immersed in the darkness to recognize their own kind.

"Since someone raised a question, I'll just say it."

Dazai seemed to see some interesting future, and said with a smile that no one could understand:

"The information you know so far is correct."

Even though he was an eight-year-old child, his tone was extremely condescending.

"I don't have any memories, it's true. I tried to kill myself, it's also true. I'm the heir to this organization—"

Dazai smiled inexplicably:

"Yes, yes, true."

"If you want to ask why, I, who have lost my memory, can't answer you. If you question my status as an 'heir'."

The sight without the slightest warmth turned to Chianti.

Osamu Dazai asked her in a cold voice.

"Chianti."

"In the mafia, obeying the leader's orders is absolute, right?"

In the high-pressure atmosphere that made people sweat, Dazai ordered coldly:

"——next time, say something nasty again."

"I suppose losing your tongue won't stop you from shooting. Will it?"

Chianti, who had been locked on by that cold gaze from a moment ago, gritted his teeth, and nodded stiffly as if he was intimidated by the cold atmosphere, although he still felt angry in his heart.

As if satisfied, Dazai raised his cup with a smile on his face.

"Okay, everyone, don't look at me with fearful eyes,"

Dazai narrowed his eyes as if he was very happy.

"I'm just an eight-year-old kid."

"--So."

"Cheers for me."

[Barrage Carnival! !

"Oh oh oh oh oh, it's too A, young Zai!!!"

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh the amnesiac debuffs!

"I rushed up, knelt down and hugged the white and thin calf of the leader, Zai, and shouted: Boss——————————————————————!!!"

"I hugged Young Zai's arm and leaned up to take a sip!!"

"I'm different! I knelt in front of You Zai and shouted: Step on me!! Step on my face!!!"

"? Sister on the left, you seem to have some serious illness??? But after filling in the picture... Can you watch me when Zai Zai steps on you?!"

There is also a part of the barrage where the focus is skewed to the horizon:

"Am I the only one who wants to know what they're drinking?"

"That's right, I'm not familiar with wine either, what kind of wine is the milky white wine?"

Zhong Yuanzhong, who is really familiar with wine, couldn't help but interjected:

"It's French anisette," Zhong Yuan said in a rather complicated mood. "It's often used as an aperitif. It's somewhere between spirits and liqueurs. It's usually mixed with water and ice cubes, and it will turn milky white. I'm afraid it will be used on this occasion." yes……"

At this time, the speed of the barrage understanding is astonishingly fast:

"Oh oh oh I see!!! In this case, the cup in You Zai's hand will not be obtrusive at all!"

"Children must not drink alcohol! Blindly guess a whiskey trio to greet the kitchen in advance and ask someone to secretly replace the glass with milk!"

"Oh hoo - so, so cute, what's going on?!!"

"Thinking of Young Zai uttering harsh words and holding the audience, and then drinking milk from a goblet and having a white mustache..."

"!!! Too cute isn't it?! What kind of breast milk is this?!?!"

Wu Zhenzai: ... What kind of style of wind review is this victim?The whole style of painting is different, isn't the filter too thick? !

But after imagining that scene, although there is still a little shame of being executed simultaneously...

He couldn't help laughing either. 】

The whole dinner, although it can't be said that the guests and the host had a good time... No, in this twilight pavilion, who is the host and who is the guest.

In short, the adults maintained their superficial laughter, and the only child who sat in the chair, after shocking everyone with the wine name 'code name' with his aura of being the leader of the port mafia for a long time, seemed to be in high spirits Exhausted and weary, he didn't talk much.

Nor did he have much appetite for the French dinners prepared by the chef.The milk only moistened his lips, and he put down the spoon after taking two sips of the onion and mushroom soup.

I used a fork to fork some vegetable salad, took a knife to cut some lamb chops, and wanted to put the knife and fork aside.

"Cough cough."

Bourbon, who was sitting on the other side, cleared his throat and gave the picky eater a stern look.

It's a pity that this child can't be reprimanded, and he can't imprint the words "take good care of yourself" into that over-age-smart head.

What else could Bourbon do?

He had no choice but to wave to the servants of the Twilight Pavilion who were serving at the side, asking them to bring the custard he had asked for earlier in the morning from the kitchen.

"You have to eat this, young master."

Bourbon took the digestible dessert from the attendant, and put the golden and tempting stewed milk in front of the person:

"The body hasn't recovered from the blood loss, so don't take it lightly."

As a result, in the blink of an eye, he saw Belmode staring at him with a half-smile, not to mention how subtle that look was.

Bourbon: "...what are you doing?"

Belmode: "Well. It's nothing. It's just..."

She stared at Bourbon, and then at the boy who, after subduing his aura, obediently scooped out the stewed milk with a snack spoon, moved his eyes from the pale face that lacked blood to the bandages all over the boy's body.

"If you want to replenish your vitality through food, you can't just eat custard," Belmode said, "ask the kitchen to serve another creamy pumpkin soup."

"?!" Bourbon squinted at her vigilantly as if blowing the hair on the tip of his tail: "What are you going to do again, Belmode?"

The man was low, as if warning something: "If you attack the heir of the organization, even if it is you, 'that gentleman' will not be lenient."

Hearing this obvious threat, Belmode smiled instead.

For some reason, she dissipated the fear she had just had, and for some reason, she smiled as if gaining the upper hand.

"What nonsense are you talking about? How could I attack the young master? If you slander me like this again, my temper will not be that good." Belmode smiled:

"I just want to care about the young master."

From the lips painted with bright lipstick, sweet words spit out:

"This is the young master of our organization, and it is a priceless treasure brought back to the nest by the crow."

"Shouldn't he be adorned with the most delicate flowers? Shouldn't he be adorned with the most costly jewels?"

"How could I just sit back and watch the young master ignore my body?"

Bourbon didn't believe the sweet words from the woman's mouth at all, and looked at her with a cold face.

And at this moment-

The door of the dining room was pushed open coldly.

The person who came was wearing an ankle-length pitch-black windbreaker and a black top hat.

Except for the long silver hair that hangs down to the calf, the whole body is completely immersed in the darkness, and there is no light at all.

He walked in, followed by his burly partner in the same black suit and black sunglasses.

In his hand was carrying someone who was covered in blood and dying.

Wrapped with the wind, the smell of blood, and the breath of death.

The pair of dark green eyes hidden under the forehead just glanced at the dining room, and laughed like a shark sniffing blood, showing madness:

"I'm late, young master. I'm so sorry."

The man whispered the honorifics.

"--but."

"I brought a souvenir."

As the words fell, the dying person in the man's hand fell to the ground at the same time.