An Extra’s POV

In a vast and beautiful room, furnished finely with the best kinds of items anyone could find, there was a long table.

This table had five chairs lined before it.

Two were placed in the left, two in the right to the final chair—which also looked the most prestigious—was at the very front.

The head of the table.

Seated on each of these seats were people who were dressed rather uniquely—though most of them had fancy wears.

The chandelier up above, the fine murals all over the pristine space, the regal carpets, and the exquisite curtains; all of these things sanctified this entire room as purely bourgeois.

As such, the people presently seated had to reflect such dignity.

Other than a rough-looking man that sat with his arms folded, fleshing his bulging muscles and his barely covered chest, everyone else was dressed appropriately for the meeting.

They also had entourages who stood behind them.

Each of the regular four seats had two people standing behind them.

However, the majestic seat in front of them all had only one person standing.

The young man who stood there wore a pure black suit, with pure black hair and blue eyes shimmering from his blank eyes.

He looked stoic as he placed both hands behind him and stood behind his mistress.

Indeed…

The one who sat in the most prestigious position was none other than Lady Scylla, the only Slave Trader who currently operated within the United Human Alliance's borders.

Her long, blond hair was coiled, and it fell on her purely red dress.

Her beautiful and delicate face would be more than enough to fool anyone. It hid the truly savage and ruthless persona she had within.

With her lips giving off the hue of red, and her violet eyes echoing nothing but danger, she smiled at the people who had gathered before her.

There was Noir, Rouge, and Bleue of the Obsidian Council.

And then, Fenrir, the Chief of the Mercenary Gang.

These were the members of her New Order; heralds of the Undertaking.

Behind them were their subordinates. For the Mercenary Gang Chief, two of the Deadly Three stood behind him.

others, they also had the most qualified of their

Scylla… the boy that guarded her was more

with some good news." Scylla's voice echoed within the bright room, causing everyone to give

of the Criminal Underworld.

the room knew what

activities of the Underworld were members of

and

the fear that their children

Hence, the culling.

person related to the three

was

we should be thanking you, Fenrir. Your Mercenary Gang took

said this, her charming smile radiating so

beast, and while he had a bald chin, traces of his hair

exposing his muscular physique, and he wore pretty baggy trousers, with boots serving

be a ruffian who seemed barely interested in the

Still, he reluctantly remained.

"Whatever…" He murmured.

come on. Don't be so modest, Sir Fenrir." Lord Rouge

Bleue joined

of them could not be the furthest thing from

hair, Bleue appeared

knew he was using

from charging you full price for our services." Fenrir growled and

"Of course! We understand."

"Yes! We understand!"

off the Mercenary Gang's Chief, but he maintained control

believe we all gathered here for a purpose. Why

man with gray hair and a snake-like expression on his wrinkled

room,

and jewels

pale skin and composed attitude was reminiscent of

patriarch of the original family that began the Obsidian

and immaculate presentation made it

members of the Obsidian Council appeared

And… perhaps they were.

"You're right, Lord Noir!"

"Right indeed, Lord Noir!"

also finding their

nodded slightly—his pure black irises

forces to cripple the Blanc House while completely eradicating the Jaune and Verte