Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 4 Unexpected Events Always Arrive Suddenly
"Yara! Black pine liqueur! Another dozen, please!"

In the noisy and dimly lit Sunset Bar, Quaid, panting heavily, leaned on the bar counter, shoveling drinks into his mouth, one after another.

"Hey, big guy, no tip, no Black Pine!"

Yara, looking displeased, brought over two large glasses of black pine liqueur and slammed them down on the bar without any ceremony.
"For your father's sake, these are the last two drinks! You have thirty seconds to finish them and get out of here! Every hour you sit here, our bar's, no, the entire underground mall's, profits will drop by ten percent!"

Quaid was already a little tipsy, but even in the bustling bar, Yara's fiery voice still carried far.

Feeling the gazes of the other drinkers and their possible sneers, Quaid felt a surge of anger rising within him.

Back in the day, he was the infamous "Bloodaxe" Quaid Rhoda, feared throughout the entire Lower City!
If it weren't for that incident... how could it be that even a bartender dares to bully him now?

Even bald Spencer, who debuted two years later than him, dared to laugh at him in front of a beggar...

Grass!
"You blind little brat!"

Growing angrier by the thought, Quaid gritted his teeth, shook his heavy head, and stood up.

He grabbed Yara's hand across the bar, dragged her in front of him, and roared viciously:
"I told you! A dozen Black Pine Wines!"

The entire bar fell silent.

The Lower City is the most chaotic area of ​​Everstar City, and the Underground Street is the most chaotic area of ​​the Lower City—especially after the Black Street Brotherhood took over ten years ago.

Sunset Bar occupies a prominent position in this chaotic area, and the people who frequent it are either members of the Black Street Brotherhood or have business with the Brotherhood.

So when Quaid grabbed Yara's hand and roared, the patrons in the bar all watched with amusement, no one said a word, and no one tried to stop him.

Quaid's head grew increasingly heavy.

However, he could still feel the wrist he was holding.

Under the dim light of the bar's candlesticks, at such close range, Yara's smooth face and delicate features appeared clearer than usual, and her short gray hair was neat and tidy. Quaid could even faintly smell the subtle fragrance emanating from her.

His mind wandered, and he started having all sorts of wild thoughts.

Yara seemed to be frightened by him as well.

The girl looked at the former top enforcer, now a down-on-his-luck alcoholic, with surprise.

When the noise of the other drinkers faded away, Quaid, still feeling dizzy, was vaguely satisfied: the silence proved that his actions had received the attention they deserved.

And respect.

But soon, when he turned his gaze to Yara, Quaid began to sober up.

His expression changed.

The initial exhilaration and domineering spirit gradually gave way to fear and panic.

YaLS Ridon.

Quaid is one of the few people who know her full name.

This beautiful woman—Quide suddenly recalled his father's words to him to "stay away from her."

And what I saw and heard at the Sunset Bar on several occasions.

The feisty and alluring "bar girl" was staring at him with a playful gaze, letting him hold her hand.

Quaid's jaw began to tremble involuntarily:
"Yara, um, I'm not..."

But before Quaid could react—

"despair!"

His hand, which was holding Yara's, was suddenly grabbed and held back by her!
That wasn't all; his middle and index fingers were then bent in the opposite direction!
A piercing pain struck.

"Ah!"

Quaid screamed in pain, his face contorted in agony.

But this was just the appetizer. Yara grabbed his arm fiercely and twisted it hard in the opposite direction of his elbow!
"Crack!"

The cracking sound of dislocated elbow bones rang out simultaneously with Quaid's scream.

"Ahhh!"

"No, no, no! Yara! Sister Yara! Ah, I—I was wrong—I shouldn't have—"

However, before Quaid could finish begging for mercy, the nimble girl used the momentum to flip over, and her long left leg, clad in super short leather shorts, stepped onto the bar and slammed down vertically, hitting Quaid hard on the neck!

"Boom!"

With a muffled thud, Quaid's scream was abruptly cut off!

The scene was quiet for a moment.

The next second, a cacophony of cheers erupted in the bar:
"Well done, Xiao Yala! You didn't let the boss down!"

"Haha, with that skill, he could make even the Terminator's shit run away!"

"I swear I saw it! I bet 10 copper coins!"

"No, damn it! She was wearing safety shorts!"

The surrounding patrons returned to their boisterous and frenzied state, gesturing wildly and howling, cheering and jeering for Yara one after another.

"listen!"

Yara glared fiercely at Quaid, who was struggling to breathe under the pressure.

She stood on one leg behind the bar, her left leg resting on the bar, her right hand clasped behind Quaid's outstretched arm, revealing her graceful and slender figure.

"You disgusting human-skinned gorilla!"

The girl calmly and slowly pulled a strangely shaped knife from the leather holster in her left boot—the blade and handle were not in a straight line, and from a distance it looked like a wolf's leg.

The strange knife fell straight into Quaid's palm.

"Boom!"

The knife tip even got embedded in the bar counter!

"Woo!"

Quaid was in so much pain that tears welled up in his eyes, but with his neck being pressed down, he could only let out a terrible, pig-like scream.

The patrons grew even more excited, and the jeers became louder.

Yara slowly lowered her upper body, displaying her perfect flexibility, and approached Quaid's tear-streaked face, whistling disdainfully and revealing a dangerous smile.

She revealed a fierce and savage nature, yet with a rhythmic and alluring voice, she uttered chilling words:
“Quide Rhoda…”

“I don’t care whose son you are, or what kind of beggar leader you are, or what kind of thug collects dirty money…”

"But you fucking listen to me..."

Yara slowly turned the hilt of the knife.

Quaid, writhing in pain from his fingers to his palms with nowhere to complain, pounded his knee against the bar, but to no avail.

"From now until the end of the world..."

"If you dare show your face in my bar again..."

The girl, her face cold, spat out the words through clenched teeth:

"I'll just use that thing down there..."

"One piece at a time..."

"Chop it into minced meat..."

"Stir it into the wine again..."

"One bite at a time..."

"I'll force it down your throat!"

"Did you understand? You piece of trash!"

A few minutes later, as Quaid, amidst the raucous laughter of the patrons and Yara's disdainful gaze, cried and fled Sunset Bar, clutching his pierced right hand, Yara clapped her hands and wiped the blood off the wolf leg knife with a look of disgust.

It looked as if the stain wasn't blood, but rather the slime of a demon.

The patrons were still excitedly shouting and recounting what had just happened. Many of them were still staring at the female bartender behind the bar, some with ulterior motives and others with lustful eyes.

Yara turned around angrily and slashed at the bar with her knife!

"What are you looking at!"

"Anyone who dares to look again will have to pay double the bill!"

And so, peace was restored to Sunset Bar.

After throwing down a few sharp words to divert the patrons' attention back to the drinks, Yara angrily threw down the rag and went into the kitchen.

There, a young man wearing a top hat smiled at her and tapped his wrist.

Yara snorted dismissively.

"Is that enough?"

"As you said, I specifically mentioned his genitals."

Yara grabbed a bottle of white wine, and a multi-purpose knife suddenly appeared in her left hand, deftly popping the cork off the bottle.

“Of course, of course, Miss Yara.”

In the kitchen, Quaid's second-in-command, the actual manager of the beggar's business, Nar Rick, gently lifted his black top hat and nodded with a smile:
"Hopefully he'll tone it down a bit from now on—from his uncontrolled drinking to his bottomless abuse of beggars, the Brotherhood can't keep cleaning up his messes forever."

"What you're trying to say is, you can't keep cleaning up his messes, right?" Yara tilted her head back and took a swig of her drink with a flourish.

Rick suddenly felt that this rough gesture seemed perfectly appropriate on Yara, making her look fresh and alluring.

It made him swallow unconsciously.

such a pity……

“That’s not wrong, because the Brotherhood is my home, and the Brotherhood’s interests are my interests.” Rick smiled and unconsciously touched the back of his neck.

Are you sure this will really work?

Yara frowned and slammed the bottle down:

"I have a feeling that someone like him will cause even more trouble when he goes back? Like taking it out on your beggar?"

"You really know him," Rick thought.

“Actually, I don’t know if it will work, because I don’t know him either,” Rick shook his head helplessly—this was already his signature move to show innocence and loyalty—and said:

"But he's gone even further lately. Three days ago, for a few coppers, he actually killed one of my promising talents... If that kid hadn't been relatively smart, the Brotherhood would have lost another member to Quaid in the future."

Is it.

Yara rolled her eyes inwardly.

Accountant who falsifies accounts, I had no idea you were so kind and righteous.

“So I’ve decided: this can’t go on any longer, he needs to be warned.” As he said this, Rick lowered his hand from the back of his neck, his gaze suddenly hardening.

"Otherwise, he will ruin my hard-earned business sooner or later."

Yara hummed softly and shook her head:

"Alright, alright, you don't need to explain so much to me about 'I had no choice but to get rid of my boss'."

"I never said I was going to kill him..."

"Alright, alright, pay the agreed-upon fee now. I only accept cash," Yara impatiently interrupted Rick's innocent explanation.

Yara lazily finished her white wine, and with a lingering sense of satisfaction, stuck out her tongue and licked the last drop from the bottle neck into her mouth.

This action stirred something within Rick.

She yawned and waved for Rick to leave.

"Also, you still have to pay the Black Pine Wine bill he owes today."

"Including those 'hidden agendas' you brought along."

Yara narrowed her eyes slightly as she watched Rick tip his hat in salute and walk away.

Others might not recognize me, but I, Yara from Sunset Bar, know it all too well…

The so-called "black pine" you brought today for Quaid to drink is actually embargoed Chaka spirits.

That was on the western front, on the battlefield against the orcs, given to death row prisoners in shackles who were about to charge into battle and commit suicide. It wasn't strong in alcohol, but it was highly hallucinogenic.

So, Nar Rick.

Yara frowned as she watched his retreating figure.

Are you sure you just have too much money to burn, and don't actually want to get rid of him?
but……

That's it.

Yara turned around indifferently.

It's just infighting among scumbags.

----

When Quaid returned to the large stone gate in front of the abandoned house, filled with shame, pain, and drunkenness—he didn't live in the Black Street headquarters, and Quaid felt that anyone inside who knew the inside story was staring at him—two thugs in a hurry happened to pass by behind the wall.

"Have you heard? The beggars are all spreading a rumor..."

Their casual conversation drifted over from afar.

"They say that Boss Quaid is no longer a man..."

Quaid's somewhat dizzy mind cleared up instantly.

"What do you mean? Can he turn into a woman?"

"Idiot, you mean Quaid got castrated! Apparently, it happened several years ago when he was collecting debts on Karima Street, in a haunted house—the one left after the Earl of Norfolk and his family were hanged—something very strange happened..."

"Everyone says that a female ghost in red castrated him."

"The red-clothed ghost? Hahaha!" In that instant, Quaid felt all the blood in his body rush to his head.

The next moment, out of control, he roared and lunged out from behind the wall!
"Who! Who said that! Which bastard!"

Quaid grabbed one of the thugs by the neck and choked him hard!

"What a bastard!"

"I'm going to kill him!"

The other thug panicked and took several steps back.

With eyes blazing with fury, Quaid pinned the man to the ground, tightening his grip on his neck.

For some reason, at that moment, the pain he felt in his pierced palm was no longer pain, but a faint numbness and stimulation.

This gave Quaid the energy to think about other things.

then……

After all, he was a well-known leader of the Brotherhood's henchmen, and a top-tier fighter among ordinary-level fighters.

In the lower city, he was always surrounded by a large entourage wherever he went.

Adrianza, the Talen brothers, and Leyok—these notorious henchmen of the Brotherhood were all his juniors back then.

Even giants like Morris and Lancer treated him with kindness and amiable conversation.
Back then, who dared to laugh at him?

At that time, he believed that one day he would take over his father's business and climb to a higher position in the fraternity...

Even... getting close to that man whom even her father feared.

But now...

just now……

Quaid looked at his terrified thugs, his own words echoing in his mind.

Quaid held back his tears and let out a wild howl from his throat—his father had once told him with a whip that if he couldn't bear the sorrow and pain, he should simply turn them into anger and hatred.

As expected, Father was right.

At that moment, the alcohol took effect, but Quaid felt perfectly sober.

It was as if all the hatred and anger in his body had turned into inexhaustible strength.

"Boss Quaid, those were all rumors, we don't believe them... Ah!"

Quaid, like a wild beast, suddenly raised his head!

The other thug, who was trembling as he tried to defend himself, was so frightened that he took a step back.

But he immediately saw that his other companion was already pale and barely breathing.

The thugs, constantly retreating, faced Quaid's menacing glare, their faces filled with fear.

"Ah, yes, it's all rumors spread by those beggars. Boss, it's really not our fault. You, you can go ask those beggars and you'll know!"

"Crack!" That was the sound of a broken neck.

The thug who was being choked by Quaid was already dead.

The remaining thugs were trembling all over.

Quaid slowly stood up from the ground, his eyes filled with a ferocious glint that seemed to devour anyone who might harm him.

Seeing that things were going badly, the thugs screamed and scrambled away.

Quaid wanted to give chase, but after turning a corner, he found that the other person had disappeared.

Damn.

He took a couple of deep breaths, turned around and looked at the corpses in the alley. Still feeling unsatisfied, he kicked them several more times before shaking his head and walking towards the twenty-odd abandoned houses.

Quaid didn't consider why the thugs on patrol hadn't shown up at all tonight—which was crucial for keeping an eye on the beggar.

He just had a burst of energy in his head.

He just wanted to find those who mocked him.

then.

One by one...

Torture them to death.

Quaid, who had just killed someone, felt as if a long-lost shackle had been removed from his mind.

It was as if he had returned to those days when he made a living on the edge of a knife.

"These damned thieves," he thought viciously. "Since they dare to spread rumors..."

You will pay the price.

Damn thief.

He was panting, feeling that his strength and will had not been so powerful in a long time.

The escaped thug shakily crawled out of the large stone door of the abandoned house and bumped into Rick under a tree outside.

"Mr. Rick!"

The thugs saw Rick as if he were their savior:

“Quid, boss—Quid’s gone mad! Didn’t you say, didn’t you say that exposing his dirty laundry and threatening him to vent his anger would be enough…? We hadn’t even finished speaking when Quaid… Pearson, he…”

The thug was so terrified he was breathless and could barely speak.

“You mean, Pearson? He, he was…” Rick seemed taken aback.

After receiving confirmation from the thug's tearful account, Rick shook his head sadly:
"It was my fault."

“I thought Quaid would… There’s no other way. Go close the big stone door, lock Quaid in the abandoned house first, then prepare the carriage. We’ll set off immediately.”

"Okay, Mr. Rick, where are we going?"

"Go to headquarters and find Boss Morris."

The thugs, still shaken, nodded repeatedly when they heard they were leaving.

He didn't even think about what to do with the beggars who were also in the abandoned house.

As Rick watched the thugs rush to the large stone gate, laboriously close the double iron gate, and then insert the stone lock, his expression suddenly became very serious.

Now Quaid will go looking for beggars, there are only a few dozen in total... surely one of them will be what the "ghost" wants.

I set my schedule earlier for today, and it's not too late yet.

Quaid spends most of the night tending to the beggars.

As for how he plans to make those scapegoats, that's something that ghost, that damned stalker, should worry about.

Since he was interested in the beggars, he wouldn't just stand by and watch.

Rick stared at the door of the abandoned house, thinking to himself.

He will no longer have time to come looking for him.

If he's looking for some beggar, then Quaid will be killed by him.

That way, the Black Street Brotherhood will take over this place tomorrow—Rhoda, Morris, and even big shots like Black Sword will handle him, and I won't have any trouble.

If he had come to kill a beggar, he might have watched Quaid continue killing beggars—which was quite possible. Ever since his father was imprisoned, Rick had often reminded himself never to underestimate the filth within noble families.

So, the ghost achieved its goal, and its troubles were naturally resolved—the Brotherhood would find the crazed leader Quaid, the exhausted second-in-command Rick, the pitiful beggars, and of course, the ghost who had gotten his wish and the big shots behind him...

Rick thought with satisfaction:

In short, that trouble, that big shot's problem, and the coldness on the back of my neck will all be resolved tonight.

Leave no trace of trouble.

Otherwise, one day, that ghost that can't find its target will come looking for you.

Rick didn't think these big family lackeys would be good-tempered, nor did he think he would see the next day's sun intact after meeting them.

Therefore, there must be another safe, unsuspecting scapegoat to expose the ghost's scheme and end this wretched misfortune.

Boss Quaid, I'm sorry to trouble you again!
Rick thought to himself calmly.

Of course, this is the last time.

Oh, right, I might get into trouble later for not keeping a close watch on things, but that's nothing compared to my life and future...

Rick sighed, a pang of pity and regret flashing through his mind.

It's a pity about these beggars, that Thales, and that Karak.

I will pray for you.

I will also cover the burial and funeral arrangements for the victims.

This deeply moved Rick:

Even in darkness, at least you still have your bottom line.

At least, Nar Rick hasn't lost his humanity.

Is not it?
At this moment, the thugs who had miraculously survived brought the carriage from a distance.

"Don't be nervous, it's alright."

Rick walked over to the carriage, nodded to it, and gave it an encouraging and comforting smile.

"I am here."

The next moment, he pulled out the mini telescopic crossbow from his pocket and accurately shot the bolt, which was soaked in the deadly poison of the indigo plant, into the wide-open mouth of the other party in surprise.

----

When Rick made that decision, which would never be known to the world but still profoundly affected the fate of the kingdom, the beggars of the Sixth House, led by Thales, sat around the fire that had been painstakingly lit, taking stock of their day's harvest, because they had rested early.

"That woman in black gave eight copper coins. I heard that her youngest son had recently passed away from typhoid fever. No wonder she was so generous."

"Mirala, with her droopy ears, gave us all the coins she had left over from buying groceries... Oh, only two."

With a smile on his face, Sinti counted out the copper coins one by one and piled them on his left.

Thales nodded, grabbed a sharp stone, and drew two tally marks on the ground.

“That skinny guy in the high-top boots wouldn’t pay, so Ryan and I taught him a lesson.”

Kelly pulled out a card and looked at the words on it with a troubled expression:

"But all he had was this card, and I didn't know what it was for."

“That’s a pass to the National Research Association’s Starlight Library. It’s in the Upper City, about five blocks away,” Thales said after examining the card.

"That skinny guy must be a scholar from the academy. I don't know if he's a bachelor from the academy or a priest from the church, but judging from his poor and down-on-his-luck appearance, he might be a writer."

"Wow! Thales, you can actually read the words on this!" Coria and Ned looked at Thales with admiration.

"How can it be!"

Thales shrugged, vaguely understanding the hope and longing in the two children's eyes:
"No one taught us to read or do math... I only knew it by seeing the book logo on the back of the card."

However, Thales thought to himself, yes, he is already trying to teach himself to read.

For example, the words on the signs such as "Sunset Bar", "Grove Pharmacy" and "National Research Association" and his vague memory also made him have an inexplicable respect and admiration for knowledge, and he never missed any opportunity to learn and accumulate knowledge.

Those who haven't experienced it might find it hard to understand... Being able to sit freely at a desk and absorb the wisdom of those who came before—Taylor raised his dusty hands, looked at the calluses that had prematurely formed from his daily toil, touched his empty stomach, and sighed—it truly is a kind of happiness.

Thales no longer remembers the circumstances surrounding his arrival in this world.

To be precise, those memories from before the time travel only surfaced little by little as the young Thales grew and his brain and mind gradually took shape.

His memories of being two to three years old are fragmented and sparse, like those of a real two-year-old. He only remembers a sticky—he doesn't know why the color in his memory can be described as "sticky"—blood red, a black stone house filled with the cries of babies, and a emaciated woman.

It wasn't until later that he learned that it was "Black Widow" Beth, a female leader in charge of raising new children in the fraternity.

When Thales was three years old, he was sent to an abandoned house. It was from then on that his memories of his past life gradually became clear. The scenes that flashed through his mind the most were him sitting at a desk, his eyes wandering back and forth between books and screens, or sitting in a classroom, discussing something with a dozen young people dressed in different ways, or with a middle-aged or elderly professor.

But those are all illusions now.

For four years, in a life filled with beatings, bullying, darkness, sin, and death for the beggars in the lower city, Thales struggled to keep the beggars of the Sixth House alive.

Compared to his previous life as a graduate student whose brain was more developed than his body, Thales' four years as a beggar gave him many new skills:
Acting skills that evoke sympathy, pickpocketing that happens without anyone noticing, and subtle and discreet observation and investigation, etc.

During this time, Thales also made many preparations beyond the scope of a beggar, such as building good relationships with people of different classes—in the lower city, "different classes" probably meant "different classes of the lower class"—.

For example, secretly inquiring about the Brotherhood's secrets, arranging several secret locations, and hiding some inventory from the higher-ups—Quaid was right about this.

That's right, Thales is not prepared to obediently accept the fate that the world has given him.

He wouldn't be a law-abiding beggar, nor would he become a thug or thief for the Brotherhood, and he had no interest in staging any "gangster drama" in Everstar City.

He wanted to escape.

Then, go live your own life and be a...

Free people.

At least we'll be freer than we are now.

As long as he takes it one step at a time, following the plan he has made... Thales looked towards the corner of the room, where there was an inconspicuous stone slab.

I can...

Then...

Just now.

From the seventeenth room next door, a scream filled with fear and panic suddenly rang out: "No! Kara!"

Soon, Thales will learn the most important lesson he learned after his time travel:
Accidents always happen suddenly.

(End of this chapter)