As A Mafia Boss, I Refuse To Be An Extra

Chapter 246: Thank You

The alley was narrow and dark, the kind of place where light struggled to penetrate even during the day.

Victor Cross stood with his back against the cold brick wall, his expensive tournament uniform torn in multiple places, burn marks visible across the fabric where the shockwave had caught him.

But he was alive!

He’d crawled here after the explosion, used his family’s emergency resources and somehow managed to survive what should have killed him.

Victor’s face showed nothing...

Just... emptiness.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Victor’s head turned slowly and mechanically, his movements lacking the fluidity of a healthy awakener.

His voice came out flat, emotionless, the question carrying no real curiosity or concern.

Victor’s body tensed slightly, his hand moving toward where his weapon should have been before remembering he’d lost it in the blast.

The question carried more force now, drawing on family name and status, the automatic response of someone accustomed to privilege and respect.

His face became visible.

Victor’s entire body went rigid, his eyes widening with shock that finally broke through the emptiness, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly for several seconds before words could form.

One of the most powerful humans in existence stood before him in a dark alley, hands casually in his pockets, looking at Victor with an expression of complete boredom – as if finding the injured heir of an Imperial family hiding in the rubble was mildly tedious rather than surprising.

But before he could speak, before he could bow or show proper respect or ask any of the thousand questions flooding his brain–

The Chairman’s voice cut through everything like a blade, cold and absolutely certain.

****

Then... Victor’s face changed.

His eyes flashed, pupils dilating and contracting rapidly, the same distinctive pattern that Eleanor’s eyes had shown right before she’d thrown the cube.

Still Victor’s vocal cords, still his mouth forming the words, but the inflection and tone and underlying presence belonged to something that had never been human.

The entity wearing Victor’s face smiled, the expression carrying amusement mixed with condescension.

The Chairman’s expression didn’t change.

The entity’s smile widened, confidence growing from the Chairman’s lack of reaction.

Victor’s body leaned forward slightly, the entity inside showing none of the pain that the physical injuries should have been causing.

"Thank you."

The entity paused, confusion breaking through its arrogant confidence.

The Chairman waved his hand.

But reality responded.

Not burned, not torn apart and not destroyed in any conventional sense.

Reduced to ash that drifted down in the faint breeze, particles so fine they barely seemed to have substance, the last physical evidence of Victor Cross’s existence scattering across the dirty alley floor.

’Which law is this?! This shouldn’t be possible! Humans can’t–’

Absolute erasure!

"–for playing your role perfectly."

Silence filled the alley.

"Gia."

"Remove all traces of Victor Cross surviving the attack. Erase surveillance footage, eliminate witness reports and scrub every database. Show him as being completely vaporized by Eleanor’s self-destruction."

"The Cross family shouldn’t be able to find any clues suggesting he lived past the initial explosion."