"Having an apprentice like Denji is truly not bad."
"Hardworking, obedient, and his strength isn't bad either."
"I'm afraid you couldn't find an apprentice as well-behaved as Denji anywhere else in the world."
Arata carried a full-length dressing mirror, wandering through the wealthy VIP boxes on the second floor. Due to the extreme panic caused by the appearance of devils, the moment the locked doors were opened, the wealthy patrons had only cared about fleeing for their lives, leaving behind high-end red wines, designer bags, jewelry, and other such items. This resulted in a significant amount of luxury goods left unclaimed.
Arata couldn't bear to let these luxury items lie lonely on the floor, so he brought the dressing mirror along and inspected each room one by one. Rolex watches, Hermès bags, high-end suits, designer leather shoes—everything was tossed into the mirror's dimension. He even dismantled the TVs in the rooms. More ridiculously, he didn't even spare the tables and chairs. Wherever he went, nothing was left behind.
After finishing the looting on the second floor, Arata opened a bottle of high-end Lafite red wine to quench his thirst. After a few sips, he walked to the balcony outside the room and called out to the two people picking up money below: "Are you thirsty? Want some grape juice to moisten your throats?"
"Sure! Should we come up to get it?"
"No need, just catch it from down there."
Arata grabbed the neck of the wine bottle and let go. The bottle dropped vertically. Denji hurriedly dropped the pile of money he was holding to catch it, but he overestimated his aim.
BANG!!
A bottle of high-end Lafite blossomed amidst the pile of cash.
"It's alright, this wine was cheap—only $20,000. This bottle of Romanée-Conti is worth $80,000, you better catch this one!"
"$80,000?!" Knowing that $1 million could be exchanged for over 100 million Yen, Denji didn't dare underestimate the value of dollars anymore.
"A bottle of water is this expensive? You humans are truly strange."
"This isn't water, it's high-end red wine. Since there's no water, just use this to quench your thirst for now."
As he spoke, he let go, and the bottle fell vertically. Because it was an $80,000 bottle, Denji caught it firmly this time. The two of them started taking turns drinking from it below.
After helping his apprentices quench their thirst, Arata went to the third floor to continue the looting. After searching five rooms in a row, he arrived at the sixth room and found the door locked from the inside. But Arata wasn't one to indulge this shy door. He activated the power of the Muscle Devil and kicked the door open, showing no regard for its privacy.
But once the door flew open, he saw a man sitting inside wearing a suit, a black top hat, and sporting a handlebar mustache. On the table sat a bottle of Cheval Blanc red wine worth $300,000, with an empty glass on either side. It looked like he was waiting for someone to share a drink.
"Excuse me, but that bottle of wine on the table seems to be mine." Arata ignored the appearance of the mustachioed man; at this moment, he only had eyes for the red wine.
"It's just a bottle of wine, take it if you want. But I would like to offer you something of more value." The mustachioed man spoke elegantly, not feeling that Arata's behavior just now was rude at all. On the contrary, he seemed quite interested in Arata.
"What thing? Let's hear it."
"$1 billion USD, plus a partnership with the Moore family. What do you think?" The man smiled slightly. He didn't believe Arata would refuse such a temptation.
"You're from the Moore family?"
Arata became interested upon hearing this. He had met them once before; he didn't expect to meet another member of the Moore family so soon. He set the dressing mirror aside and sat down across from the mustachioed man to hear the rest of the story.
"I am a member of the Moore family. Furthermore, all the underground black fist clubs in the world are controlled by us."
"And then? Why do you want to give me $1 billion? I don't want $1 billion pre-tax."
"Rest assured, what I'm giving you is a clean $1 billion; you won't need to pay taxes."
"If you're willing to give me $1 billion, then I must be very valuable to you—far more valuable than just $1 billion."
"You're very smart." The mustachioed man smiled, then stood up, intending to open the red wine and pour a glass for each of them to continue the conversation. However, Arata grabbed the bottle first. The man assumed Arata wanted to pour him a drink; after all, he was a Moore. In any setting or location, the Moores were always the most respected guests. Even the high-and-mighty corporate conglomerates behaved like subordinates meeting a boss in front of the Moores. Arata proactively taking the bottle to pour was exactly what the man expected. So, he sat back down, adjusted his lapel, and lifted his glass.
But Arata didn't open it. Instead, he leaned the dressing mirror against the table and backhanded the Cheval Blanc red wine into the mirror's dimension. Then he sat down and asked, "How do you intend to partner with me?"
The mustachioed man paused, his hand holding the empty glass looking somewhat awkward, but he kept his expression unchanged. "Well... Mayweather was the boxing king of the island nation's underground circuit, but you killed him. There is a vacancy in that position now."
"So you want me to replace him and participate in the national underground black fist championship?"
"That is precisely my intent." The man set his empty glass down and sat up straight.
"Let me tell you, that's impossible."
"Why?"
"I cannot represent the island nation to compete."
" 'Island nation' is just a name, it doesn't refer to the country. Mayweather wasn't a local either, but he defeated all the underground boxers here, which is why he competed under the title of the strongest in the nation."
"Still impossible." Arata refused flatly and stood up to leave.
"Wait! Then I'll give you a direct slot. You won't need to represent any region to participate."
"I don't like boxing. I only like the feeling of my blade-claws slicing through someone's skin."
"Wait!" The mustachioed man stood up immediately, trying to block him.
"No waiting." Arata turned around, left, and entered the room next door. But the man was persistent and followed him to the door. "I know you've been shooting a movie recently. I can get you the best director in Hollywood."
Arata stopped at the mention of the movie. "How do you know I'm shooting a movie?"
"There is nothing the Moore family does not know." The man stroked his mustache.
"Speak quickly, don't force me to shave that mustache off for you."
"You are the first person I've seen who dares to be this arrogant in front of the Moore family." The man wasn't angry; he actually seemed to admire Arata.
"I don't mind telling you. The owners behind the film industry are all us Moores. This includes all the stars and production companies. You invited Asuka Saito to participate in your film production, which is how I knew."
"Then what is your purpose in insisting that I participate in the boxing tournament?"
"Actually, it's not exactly a boxing match. I prefer to call it the Devil's War—a tournament to select the strongest devil contractors or fiends from around the world."
"The gimmick is huge, but it's ultimately just to make money, right?" Arata said as he walked over to the TV. "Come over here and help me move this TV."
To curry favor with Arata, the mustachioed man stepped forward to help.
"How can I help you?"
"You just need to hold this mirror."
Arata handed the mirror to the man, then lifted the TV with both hands and moved it into the mirror.
"What kind of ability is this?"
"Doraemon's Anywhere Door."
"What?" The man couldn't understand, but he didn't ask further. Right now, he only cared whether Arata would agree to his terms.
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