"One Line is a private company licensed by law to provide security in many places.
Or, to put it the way you just did, it's a protection racket disguised as a business?"
Moris held his head in his hands.
He wore that shapeless black mask, so nobody could tell what expression he was making.
But to Quân, the way his fingers tightened slightly was enough to show how irritated he was.
"Fine. One Line is not what you think it is, all right? Let me say this again. We are legal.
We're connected. We have multiple branches. Four different branches. And we don't even do security work in all four of them."
"All four branches are called One Line, or are they subsidiaries?"
Quân asked casually, seated in the chair as he sipped a cup of tea that was far too sweet, because he had added more sugar himself.
Moris looked confused for a moment, then shook his head.
"No?"
"No."
Moris nodded firmly.
"So who's your chairman?"
Quân pressed on, clearly probing.
Moris pointed toward the room in the corner of the house, implying something.
"?? You're kidding, right? That sounds like the stupid setup from some anime."
A reincarnated guy gets a cheat power, becomes an overlord, then builds a mysterious corporation and controls the underworld?
Am I in some kind of novel?
"A-nime?"
Moris blinked at him, while Quân waved a hand dismissively, not bothering to explain. It was obvious enough that concepts like motion pictures, animation, and whatever else existed in this world.
With human brains and a mountain of magic around, he even half-heartedly hoped that one day he could copy the songs he remembered from memory, and the first thing he'd try would definitely be MJ.
"Also, if this is a security branch, how many people are in it?"
Moris slowly held up three fingers.
One pointed at himself.
One pointed at Quân.
The thumb pointed toward the corner of the room.
BANG!
Quân slammed a hand onto the table.
He had no idea whether it looked cool or not, but it felt insanely badass.
"Three? Three people?"
"Haha, don't worry. The three of us are the ones who coordinate everything. We're the headquarters."
"The head? Headquarters my ass. Three people and you call that a headquarters?"
Quân exploded.
Moris burst out laughing, and the entire atmosphere flipped completely.
"Don't worry. We may not look like much, but the two of us are stronger than you think. The two of us can... more or less hold off five people."
"Just shut up already!"
Quân gave up and flopped back onto the sofa, throwing an arm over his face.
Time passed in a blur after that.
The darkness swallowed time whole.
He heard footsteps.
Moris must have left.
A while later, Quân looked down at his own hand.
It was soft.
Dry.
Thin.
No core, huh?
He stared blankly, remembering what Ron had told him before he escaped that eerie mansion and slept in some shabby inn.
He didn't have magic.
To put it simply, Ron had been reincarnated into a boy who already had a soul and a core.
But Quân, being a transmigrator, had arrived in a body that had been born without one.
Which meant his dream of becoming the boss of a harem was completely pointless.
No, wait. There was still another way.
Become rich first.
Then everything else would follow.
But women, though... sure, some things can be controlled with emotions, but others can be manipulated with money. A life without even a genuine smile here and there is just a fast track to becoming some gloomy middle-aged office dad in a Korean drama.
Quân thought to himself.
If there was any gender more treacherous, it had to be men.
But men were also the simplest creatures alive.
All their schemes boiled down to two words: I want.
As for women, he'd rather not die trying to understand them.
And Quân wanted a brand-new, glorious chapter of life.
Just not the kind where he became some side character in a tragic romance while a mysterious noble clan imploded because of a few passionate speeches.
Quân sat up and yawned.
He looked at Moris.
Moris looked at him.
That was about it.
"Hey," Quân said at last, "why exactly are you guys arresting junkies anyway? You're a security company, not the police. The girl isn't dead yet, right?
And what exactly is this operation tonight supposed to be?"
Moris looked blank for a second, then shook his head.
"I don't know. Why would I know?"
"?"
Quân tilted his head.
He understood the words, but not the meaning behind them.
"Tonight's operation will have you and Ron on one side, and another group on the other. Two more people will be involved as well.
Don't worry about it. Ron will cover you. You're basically a beginner anyway, and our line of work requires a lot of real-world experience, so just treat it as a chance to learn.
As for that girl, I'll be the one handling the interrogation. Just some psychological methods, nothing serious."
Quân only caught the first half of that.
The rest went straight through his ears and out the back of his skull.
He unconsciously touched his leg, then looked down at his hand again.
Before he could think any further, the doorbell rang through the house.
"?"
Quân stiffened slightly.
Back where he came from, he didn't really use doorbells.
Most of the time, he just rang them to annoy people in the neighborhood.
Moris, however, smiled faintly.
"Police," he said softly. "Or maybe royalty. Probably one of those.
If it is, then the operation starts now."
As Moris was speaking, a creaking sound came from the corner of the room.
Ron emerged from the shadows, holding a black staff in one hand and a white coat in the other as he walked toward the door.
"Get ready, Quân," Ron said.
"The moment they step inside, you need to watch every detail."