Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 598 Weapons of the Weak (Part 1)

Constance.

Aishida.

Thales walked expressionlessly along the dirty streets of the underground city, repeatedly recalling the air magic master he knew.

Whether it's the ruthless villains on Red Street, the elegant and learned magic masters in the card room, or the world-destroying inhuman monsters in Dragon City.

No, that's not all.

Thales' thoughts returned to the prison of bones, to the secrets buried in the darkness.

The Blade of Purification, the Alliance of the Three Calamities, the Two Emperors, and Freylan.

Ashda Sakorn, what did you do?
And what role did you and your so-called moderates play in the Bloody Year?
If what Maurice said is true, then eighteen years ago, you cooperated with the late king, but then murdered Constance, a member of the Starry Sky royal family, is that right?

What does my birth to the Starry Sky Royal Family mean to you?
Thales' mind suddenly clicked, and he remembered what Ashida had told him:
What I expect, Thales, is not your ultimate success.

Rather, you are caught between magic users and humans, between calamity and the world, between your own nature and the gaze of others, between an inescapable future and an unbreakable past...

[Ultimately, torn apart by contradictions, destroyed by conflict, and consumed by regret... the day we finally yield to each other.]

Thinking of this, Thales subconsciously clenched his fist, tightening his grip on the cut on his palm.

"Ah, it's like this again."

Cohen stared intently at Thales's retreating figure.

Grover, who had been watching Maurice warily beside him, frowned upon hearing this.

"What is this?"

Cohen pointed ahead to Thales, who was pacing back and forth expressionlessly.

“I’ve seen Your Highness in this state before, in Exter in the North.”

He put his palm to his mouth, looking mysterious, and lowered his voice:

"In the dimly lit corner of the altar, after he and a Priestess of the Moon had been alone together for more than ten minutes..."

The female priestess of Haoyue?

Alone?

Ten minutes or so?

Golov was taken aback and subconsciously looked at Thales's back.

"He was like that back then too."

Cohen's gaze shifted, revealing the shrewd wisdom unique to a royal guard:

"After returning from talking with the priestess, he became absent-minded, unsteady on his feet, listless, and with lifeless eyes, as if all his energy had been drained..."

Golov's gaze shifted slightly.

"However, His Highness recovered quite quickly," Cohen said, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes.

"A few minutes later, he was lively and energetic again, and went to find the little girl from Dragon Sky City. He quickly planned to do something big..."

The next second, the zombie turned and glared at Cohen!

His gaze was sharp as a knife, filled with murderous intent.

Cohen's words caught in his throat.

"Try joking with His Highness again..."

Glov gave a warning snort, quickened his pace, passed Cohen, and rushed to Thales' side.

"what happened?"

Cohen caught up with him, feeling utterly aggrieved:

"I'm telling the truth, I'm not joking... Okay, even if it's fake, you don't need to be so angry..."

Thales was still lost in his complicated thoughts, and unknowingly turned another familiar street corner.

The uneven dirt road, the moss-covered corners of the walls, the signs lying haphazardly...

Everything feels so familiar.

Just like when I was a child, I walked through this street countless times.

The only difference is...

Only himself.

Take a step, lift your leg, and put on your boot.

Thales mechanically and numbly repeated the rhythm of his march, yet he felt as if his ankles were linked by chains, each step carrying immense weight.

A cacophony of voices could be heard from ahead.
Thales looked up slowly and saw a shop with an imposing facade that stood out from its surroundings not far away.

There were many people gathered around the shop, some in twos and threes, some pounding their chests and sighing, others dancing and laughing wildly.

Thales stopped and glanced at the luxurious signboard above the store, knowing exactly what was going on.

Black Gold Casino.

When they were young, this was one of the places that tested the children's eyesight the most: gamblers who won money were naturally generous and gave away their money everywhere, while gamblers who lost money were irritable and sometimes even punched and kicked people who grabbed their clothes to beg.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” a well-dressed, thin man reassured another man, dressed in tattered clothes and with a sallow complexion, under a small shed outside the casino.
"It's just bad luck sometimes. Think about it, how many times have you won before? You know what you really need is just one chance to win it all back, just once, maybe just ten silver coins, but to be on the safe side, it's best to have a hundred..."

Cohen, who was behind Thales, saw this and his expression immediately turned serious:

"Damn it."

Golov understood what had happened, and he snorted coldly.

"I know, brother, I used to be just like you, but look at me now, how well am I doing? Do you know why?"

The skinny man under the shed handed his bottle of liquor to the man, patting him on the shoulder regretfully.

"Drink slowly, don't choke... I assure you, within ten blocks, this place offers the lowest interest rates on loans, and it's an outside business for the casino... They even have a special offer recently: if you lose the first hand, they don't charge interest on the lost portion; it only starts accruing interest from the second hand onwards... Their exchange rates are also the best. You know, a while ago, the exchange rate for Midir to Mindis was even as high as 90 to 1, haha, praise the wise ruler! But the exchange rate here is absolutely fair; that's how I made up for my losses..."

The man, who had looked desperate, took a few sips of his drink, and after listening to the skinny man's words, a look of excitement returned to his face.

Thales watched this familiar scene and sighed silently.

But just as he was about to turn around to look for Maurice, a dark shadow flashed behind him!
Cohen walked forward with a gloomy expression, and Golov didn't even have time to stop him.

"Yes, they'll lend you the money right away if you're willing! Look at this heavy money bag... Oh, don't worry, they've lent out so much more than you, what's a little less? At most, you can pay in installments... Right, right, right here, sign your name... Can't read? Okay, then put your fingerprint on it, and put some small things as collateral, no, no, it's just proof, not a robbery... What, the house is rented? Hmm, do you have a daughter? You know, she'll get married sooner or later and have someone else's kids..."

The skinny man, beaming with excitement, pulled the man to a small table under the shed. The accountant behind the table pulled out a money bag from underneath, then lazily pulled out a contract and had the man put his fingerprint on it.

"Do you have a wife... No, no, no, if things really don't go well, the sugar daddy is very easy to talk to. He'll just ask you to do odd jobs, and you can exchange your work for the debt... You know, brother, wives all have their own savings, and they'd rather buy themselves earrings than give them to you, letting the head of the household use them to do serious business and make big money. There's nothing you can do about it, they're just short-sighted... Sometimes you have to squeeze them out of their way..."

The man stared at the money pouch on the table, swallowed hard, and the skinny man beside him pressed on.

"Besides, you might not even lose. Just imagine, the head of the household makes a fortune, comes home all smug, stuffs new dresses and gifts into his wife and daughter's hands, and then slams a heavy purse on the dining table. Hey, let's see who dares to give you a hard time then..."

The man smeared some ink on his seal, but hesitated when he was about to press the contract onto the paper.

The skinny man and the person settling the bill exchanged a glance. The former sighed, grabbed the man, and pulled him towards the back.
"Come on, brother, since you're so hesitant, there's no need to force yourself... Don't worry, their loans are all voluntary, they won't pressure you. Come on, have a drink, and we'll help you think of an excuse: why didn't you get paid for hauling goods today? Hopefully, that'll fool your wife..."

But the man shuddered and instinctively grabbed the skinny man who looked completely indifferent, his eyes pleading.

"I...I..." The man looked at the small contract with difficulty.

At this moment.

"Hey! You in front, stop!"

The guard's loud voice rang out, attracting the attention of people in front of the casino.

"Don't sign, don't put your fingerprints!"

Cohen angrily pushed through the crowd, shoved the skinny man aside, and pulled the impoverished man to his side:

Do you want your family to be destroyed? Or do you want to sell your children and wife?

"Or are they forcing us to do illegal work like trafficking and smuggling? To go to jail for them?"

The man looked bewildered, staring at the tall man in front of him with a puzzled expression.

Outside the crowd, Golov frowned and said to Thales, "Your Highness, he's like this..."

But Thales simply raised one hand and shook his head:
"As the guard, he is the most suitable person to step in."

In the crowd, the skinny man, annoyed and embarrassed by the interruption, was furious:
"Where did this unlucky idiot come from, to... "

But the accountant behind him tugged at the skinny man and whispered a few words in his ear.

The skinny man's expression changed.

He looked at Cohen, who was filled with indignation, and suddenly laughed.

“Oh, so it’s the silly… Mr. Guard,” the skinny man rubbed his hands together, gesturing for his accomplices in the crowd to step back, and then he approached Cohen.

"What's wrong? Are you checking our qualifications again? This is a long-established black market casino, licensed, issued by a wise ruler a hundred years ago—would you like to go in and take a look?"

The unexpected commotion was quite significant, attracting the attention of gamblers and passersby who surrounded Cohen and the man, their faces grim and their hostility obvious.

Thales heard someone in the crowd mutter "Damn bastard" under their breath.

The man who almost pressed his handprint turned pale upon seeing such a large-scale operation.

But Cohen, facing so many people, merely snorted coldly, then turned to the skinny man and shielded the man behind him:
"Yes, that license you obtained through coercion and bribery at some point..."

"Oh my, the casino is very diligent in its operations, diligently filing its annual returns and paying all taxes," the skinny man said, becoming even more emboldened by the large crowd.

"As for coercion and bribery, your colleagues come to inspect frequently, why don't you go ask them? Don't just say things without evidence—"

Cohen suddenly raised his voice, interrupting him:
"But illegal usury is not!"

As Cohen spoke, he pushed past the skinny man and rushed into the shed, only to find that the contract on the table had vanished.

"Illegal loan sharking?" the skinny man said with a sly smile to the crowd.
"Do you have evidence?"

The people around him let out scattered chuckles and hisses.

The guard's expression tightened. He looked up and glanced at the crowd, only to find that the accountant was nowhere to be seen.

He turned to the unfortunate man and asked:
"Tell me, how much interest do they charge you when they lend you the money?"

The man was clearly terrified, his voice trembling and he was stammering.

"I……"

"Hey, hey, hey, I'm friends with him! You idiot bastard, oh, sorry—Mr. Guard," the skinny man deliberately used a derogatory term, crossing his arms and snorting coldly.

"What, do we have to report and pay taxes to the police department for money we help each other with when buying alcohol?"

Cohen turned around abruptly, his eyes filled with anger.

The crowd around him was startled and dispersed to create a small clearing.

"I know, it's your old trick!"

Cohen gritted his teeth and said to the skinny man, then turned around and angrily berated the man who was about to put his fingerprint on the document:
"Some guy dressed neatly and elegantly, took a liking to someone like you, a respectable person with a meager income and a worried look, and used sweet talk to persuade you to try your luck at the casino. You won a few times at first, so you couldn't help but come every day, until today you suddenly lost all your money—you probably wanted to buy some jewelry for your wife and earn some dowry for your daughter, right? Let me tell you, you've come to the wrong place, you idiot!"

The man lowered his head in shame after being scolded by him.

"And you guys!"

Cohen raised his hand and pointed forward, staring intently at the skinny man, his imposing presence no less than that of the surrounding crowd:

“Scum, first give the ‘fat sheep’ a little taste to lure them in. After a few days, once they’ve lost everything, you scum will be waiting outside to ‘plunder’ them and sell your loan sharking.”

"And even if he manages to borrow the money, he'll gamble it all away. Once he can't pay it back, you won't be so nice to him anymore. You'll come knocking on his door to collect the debt, threaten and coerce him, and even demand his wife and daughters... If you encounter a tough nut to crack, you'll find someone in the Brotherhood who specializes in collecting shady debts... until his family is ruined and he's at your mercy!"

Cohen was furious:

"You understand now, you idiot? And you, skinny guy, you're not getting away today. Come with me to the West City Police Department, and I'll beat you to a pulp!"

Cohen grabbed the man's hand and walked toward the skinny man.

The helpless man trembled, looking at Cohen, then at the grim-faced skinny man, at a loss for what to do.

But the skinny man took a step back and sneered.

“Tell me, sir,” the thin man clicked his tongue.

"Since you're here on patrol and law enforcement, where's your police station badge? Aren't you going to show it to us?"

Cohen snorted angrily:
"The same old trick again? Trying to steal my badge?"

But when he reached for his waist, he suddenly froze.

The guard swallowed hard:
"I, I, that, the police badge..."

Cohen put his hand back in its place, looking rather unwell.

"How dare I?" the skinny man said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Everyone in the lower city knows that stealing from you is suicide. The prisons are practically overflowing with the thieves you've put in there..."

"So, where is your guard badge?"

The crowd began to jeer and urge Cohen on.

But Cohen still looked grim.

Damn.

Seeing Cohen's reaction, Thales sighed.

He suddenly understood why Cohen wore a hood to conceal his identity when he went out.

He also understood why the big, clumsy guy's words were contradictory: first he said he was there to inspect the area, then he said he had taken leave, and he was hesitant about going to the lower city.

This guy……

"Ah, I see."

The skinny man feigned sudden realization and stepped forward:
"Last time on Red Street, at the Laiya Club, you got into a fight over the top courtesan and injured several noblemen, right?"

Cohen hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

Laiya Club, top-tier girl.

A few words caught Golov's attention, and he frowned as he looked at Cohen.

“So you’ve been suspended by the Security Service, your badge confiscated, and sent back to ‘reflect on your actions,’” the skinny man from the Black Gold Casino arrogantly walked up to Cohen.
"Right now, you have no power to enforce the law."

The skinny man poked the guard's chest repeatedly, looking extremely smug.

Someone whistled, and the crowd immediately started to jeer even louder, with some mocking, ridiculing, and even cursing.

Cohen's expression froze:

"you--"

"How do I know?"

The skinny man picked up where he left off, bowing slightly and speaking in a affected tone:
"Hehe, you stupid bastard, of course someone from your own ranks told me!"

Cohen's expression changed, and he instinctively grabbed the skinny man's collar!

"What's wrong? Are you so angry that you want to hit someone?"

The skinny man remained unfazed, letting the other man grab his collar.

He even defiantly raised his hands, speaking in a sarcastic tone:

"Everyone, be my witnesses! Corrupt vigilantes are beating innocent civilians without cause!"

Cohen paused for a moment.

Several shills led the crowd to gather around the center, and the shouts of abuse grew louder and louder.

The crowd pressed against Cohen, forcing him to release the man, who, sensing the danger, slipped away from the crowd.

In the chaos, the skinny man sneered and shouted:
"I know, you're that idiot vigilante who's really good at fighting, right? A few months ago, one of my buddies ran into you at Sunset Bar, and he's still in bed with you now... Hehe, but we're law-abiding citizens, don't scare us. If we encounter violence, I'll call the police!"

The surrounding crowd burst into laughter, many of them gloating.

Cohen was so angry he couldn't utter a word, his hand gripping the other man's collar awkwardly poised, unsure what to do.
"You...I..."

The skinny man looked at the trembling Cohen with a comical expression, as if he were watching a clown.

"What, weren't you so smug? Come on, hit me! Shoot me in the face, come on, hit me! Oppressing the common people, isn't that what you thugs are best at?"

Cohen clenched his teeth, his face contorted in struggle, trying his best to endure.

The people around them started to jeer, many of them indignant:

"Oh my, what's this? A hood? Are you traveling incognito?"

"This material is really good. It must belong to a wealthy family. How much of the people's hard-earned money did they consume to afford it?"

"I heard his father is a high-ranking nobleman, huh? I knew he wasn't a good person!"

"Come on, would a great nobleman let his son suffer here? He's probably a bastard or a mongrel!"

"Fuck you! I was a day late paying the deposit for my stall, and those thugs smashed it up! It's all because of scum like you!"

"This is nothing. My father went to jail for refusing to be extorted by them, and when he came out, both his legs were broken!"

"You stupid bastard! The Lower City is in such bad shape because of corrupt officials like you!"

"Go for it! What are you afraid of? There are so many of us!"

"Who dares? They're the king's servants! They represent the royal family to rule us! Aren't they, idiots?"

Although no one dared to actually make a move, many people shoved the big, clumsy man back and forth, and the sounds of laughter and curses were endless. Some even secretly spat on his boots.

The guard was stretched thin and unable to maneuver effectively, and several times he wanted to take action, but he held back. Watching this, Thales sighed and nodded to Golov.

But just as Golov was about to step forward, another deep voice rang out:

"Is it enough?"

The voice vibrated through the air, as if it were ringing in everyone's ears, startling everyone.

Everyone turned their heads at once.

A short, stocky, fat man strolled lazily into the crowd:
"Then let's break up."

The onlookers looked at each other in bewilderment.

Seeing that the entertainment had been interrupted, the skinny man in the crowd turned around and said angrily:
"Who the hell do you think you are—"

But from within the crowd, a voice rang out in terror:

"Yes, it's Maurice! That's Maurice!"

"The Brotherhood, the Brotherhood is here!"

In that instant, without any prompting, the crowd erupted in a low gasp of surprise.

A sense of panic spread rapidly.

Centered around Morris, the people in front of the casino scattered in a rush, leaving a large open space.

This also revealed Cohen, who was disheveled and in a sorry state in the center.

He shoved aside the nearest gambler, panting, and looked defiantly at the people around him.

But no one paid any attention to the guards anymore.

Fear, surprise, and a desire to escape filled the air. Everyone stared at the suddenly appearing Maurice, and the scene fell silent for a moment.

Thales looked at the silent crowd, then at Morris, and his brows furrowed.

In the room, many people secretly turned away and slipped away, while others timidly retreated and lowered their heads.

Some people, taking advantage of their thick skin, greet others with enthusiasm and ingratiation:
"It's the boss!"

Once someone started it, greetings immediately followed one after another, filled with enthusiasm:
"Hello, boss!"

"What a great day, boss!"

"I heard you beat up the Red Turbans again?"

"here you go!"

"Boss, I'd like to join the Brotherhood someday and try my luck! Do you think I'm a good fit?"

But faced with the clamor of the crowd, Maurice remained silent, simply raising his arm and clenching his fist in the air.

As if given a silent command, the bustling crowd fell silent once more.

Step, step, step.

Only the sound of Maurice's footsteps remained in the arena.

He slowly walked past Cohen, gave a soft snort to the disheveled guard, and gave a half-smile.

"I think you need some help from me?"

Cohen was initially indignant and wanted to speak, but he held back.

Morris turned his head again and looked at the skinny man in the casino.

The skinny man turned pale and hurriedly nodded and bowed.
"Ha, Boss Morris! Hehehe, misunderstanding, misunderstanding, I didn't see you, nor did I hear you were coming... How come someone as busy as you has time to come here..."

Another figure appeared gracefully behind Morris—Leyok glanced coldly around.

The crowd visibly flinched once again.

The skinny man's expression worsened.

He tried to make small talk, but the fear in his eyes was clearly visible:

"Hey, Boss Leyok, you're here too—oh, you two bosses, want to have some fun? Welcome, welcome, please come in, we have VIP rooms..."

But Maurice simply raised one finger and shook it:
"We're not doing business today, everyone get out."

The skinny man was stunned.

The crowd fell silent, not daring to utter a sound.

Leyok snorted coldly, turned around and looked around, then spoke softly:
"Did someone... not understand?"

The silent assassin's voice faded.

Wow!

The next second, the crowd seemed to explode!

Amidst the incessant sound of footsteps, no one dared to linger, turning around and leaving without even glancing back.

Cohen stood there, staring blankly at the people scattering like birds and beasts, unable to come to his senses for a long time.

The skinny guy also wanted to slip away, but Leyok grabbed his shoulder from behind.

“I remember, I made an agreement with Qincha.”

Maurice came to him.

The fat man remained calm and unhurried, but there was a chill in his voice:

"The profits from this event go to him, since his men have suffered heavy casualties and incurred high expenses, while I'll take care of things for him."

The skinny man trembled slightly.

He mechanically turned around, his smile more like a grimace:

"Boss, look—"

Morris interrupted him:

"But we also agreed that we would only target unscrupulous merchants, cunning businessmen, and wealthy nobles."

"And that guy just now? He looks like a poor coachman, with no money to be made."

Morris squinted at the skinny man.

The skinny man swallowed hard and gave the other person a fawning look:
"Boss, we're sorry, we really didn't know what that guy did before we took action..."

Morris snorted, and the skinny man immediately shut up.

"So, when you pluck a sheep, you don't even check the wool before you start? You're even more amateurish than a beggar?"

Morris glanced back, seemingly casually:
"What if you happen to touch Prince Star's body someday..."

Thales frowned.

Morris's gaze turned cold:
"Then won't my whole street be doomed?"

The skinny guy was practically in tears:

"You're joking, how could a prince come to us—hiss!"

Leyok suddenly exerted force from behind, and the skinny man cried out in pain, begging for mercy.

"Alright, alright, alright, Boss Morris, you see, there aren't many rich people in the three districts of Downtown to begin with. Even the nobles are intimidated by the Brotherhood's reputation. We were forced into this situation..."

Maurice simply stared at him, expressionless.

The skinny man felt there was a chance, and said with a mournful expression:
"Besides, we're looking for business at the entrance, not making money inside the casino. After all, we brothers need to eat too..."

The skinny man's expression changed, and his voice suddenly became hoarse.

He looked pained and began to gasp for breath.

Cohen was startled and instinctively touched his neck.

Morris stared silently at the thin man, his eyes devoid of any emotion.

Leyok coldly released him, and the latter fell to his knees with a thud, clutching his neck with both hands, breathing painfully and weeping uncontrollably, unable to utter a complete sentence:
"No, boss, please, please, please..."

"Hey!" Cohen couldn't contain himself and stepped forward:
"You want to kill me in front of me..."

But his arm was immediately grabbed, preventing him from getting closer!
It's Leyok.

“If the boss wants to kill someone,” the Silent Assassin said, pressing down on Cohen’s hand and shaking his head dismissively.

"He doesn't need any special abilities at all."

Cohen gritted his teeth.

The next second, the skinny man's breathing suddenly became smooth again:

"Ha ha--"

He collapsed to the ground, weeping uncontrollably for the right to breathe he had regained.

Thales silently observed everything before him, and inexplicably recalled his time with the Air Mage.

“This time, I’m giving face to Qincha, and also to this guard,” Maurice leaned down, grinned, and spoke in a kind and calm tone:
"Next time, remember: don't argue with me."

The terrified skinny man couldn't utter a single word; he could only nod frantically.

"And stop taking advantage of the poor—the lower city is our home." Morris clapped his hands, completely unconcerned.

"Get out," Leyok kicked him and said coldly.

The skinny man scrambled to his feet, nodding and crying as he backed away.

"The same goes for the rich!"

Cohen realized what was happening and roared, adding:
"Anyone!"

The skinny man's figure disappeared around the corner.

The entrance to the Black Gold Casino suddenly became deserted.

"Wow, guard."

Leyok glanced at Cohen and sneered disdainfully:

"Words really work."

Cohen bit his lip, his face grim.

Thales and Glov approached, and Cohen, too ashamed to look at them, turned his head away.

"Have you been here before, guard?"

Morris looked with interest at the street that had been deserted because of his fright.

Cohen realized what was happening, saw it was Morris, and turned away dismissively.

"Of course, this is my jurisdiction."

"Whether it's patrolling, investigation, search and arrest, or the annual crackdown on crime organized by the Security Bureau..."

“But here…” Cohen hesitated, then stopped, unable to finish his sentence.

Morris let out a sigh of relief, feeling as comfortable as if he were back home.

"But this place is far beyond your imagination, isn't it?"

"Whether it's the chaotic layout of the city, the difficulty in handling it, or the complexity of the personnel composition."

Cohen turned away angrily without answering.

Thales sighed inwardly: For Cohen, being helped by the fraternity leader was an almost unbearable humiliation.

“You know what, when I heard that a new, high-born, hot-headed hoodlum had arrived in the West City's den of thugs, I knew it,” Morris patted his belly and clicked his tongue.
"You're in for a world of trouble."

The fraternity's fat man continued walking forward, with Leyok following closely behind.

"Me? Unlucky?" Cohen was taken aback.

Thales was preoccupied with his own thoughts. He waved and followed the fat man.

Golov reached out to grab Cohen's arm, but was shoved away by the disgruntled guard, who stiffly followed.

“Hmph,” Cohen retorted defiantly, “I’m fine, I’ve always been unlucky anyway.”

"But you..."

Cohen gave Morris a vicious glare at his retreating figure.

“Theft, extortion, blackmail, robbery, intimidation, violence, murder, no, and more,” the guard enumerated with righteous indignation.

"Drug trafficking, prostitution, gambling, smuggling, bribery, including the loan sharking just now—don't think that stopping the loan shark is some kind of act of kindness. You should know that it is the evil you brought about!"

"As the culprit, with a long list of misdeeds and countless evil deeds, do you think you can escape?"

Morris seemed to find this amusing and laughed.

Leyok shook his head dismissively.

Cohen gritted his teeth and said:
“One day, you will pay for your crimes.”

"cost?"

Morris didn't turn around, he just took a deep breath.

"Whether it's you or the Blood Bottle Gang, you're all parasites that don't belong in this world," Cohen said coldly. Thales swore he had never seen him like this before.

"You are all destined to perish."

"Extinction?" Maurice murmured the word as he paced back and forth.

He suddenly smiled.

"Haha, I have to say," the fat man scoffed and shook his head:
“Very ambitious, Qing—oh, Mr. Guard.”

"What, you think you'll be the exception?" Cohen sneered.

Morris shook his head:

"No, no, no, please don't misunderstand me, Mr. Guard."

"Don't worry, I was aware of this a long time ago."

Morris looked up and sighed:

"This line of work is like being a mercenary; I might fall one day, and I might even end up in your hands..."

The fat man glanced at Thales, while the boy coldly returned his gaze.

"but……"

Morris let out a breath:

"Look around."

The fat man stretched out his arms, and Thales followed his gaze:

"On the main streets, in the neighborhoods, in the alleys, there are inconspicuous grocery stores and their idle apprentices, simple and crude workshops and their homeless laborers, deserted food stalls and their aimless idlers, dilapidated huts and the homeless who rely on them for shelter, narrow and dimly lit attic rooms and the single people who are alone even on Valentine's Day, street vendors pushing carts and hawking their wares, and slovenly children running around the streets..."

"Including those from the lowest rungs of society, the most miserable, the most frowning professions: beggars, prostitutes, thugs, gamblers, authors, hoodlums, including the Groves just now, the coachman forced to borrow money at exorbitant interest rates, the crowd surrounding you denouncing the guard, and even the little girl and her family who staged an accident to extort money from you on the street earlier..."

Morris sighed:

"Hundreds and thousands, tens of thousands..."

"Who do you think these people are?"

Cohen frowned.

"The poor".

Cohen paused for a moment, then said indignantly:

"What I mean is, the poor people are all the poor people who have been harmed, deceived, coerced, and exploited by you."

Golov frowned as if he had just remembered something.

Morris burst into laughter.

Thales sighed softly.

No.

Cohen.

They are not just poor.

They are even more...

“No,” Morris finally finished laughing, and turned to look at the defiant Cohen:

“You don’t understand, Mr. Guard.”

“All these people, they are all our people.”

Cohen was taken aback.

The fat fraternity man narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint in them:
"They all belong to—the Black Street Brotherhood."

To put it simply:
Tomorrow, my good buddy "Yilu Jilu" (yes, the one who is related to the CEO, Tentacle Bai Geng Guai) will release his new book "Zuodao Jianghu"!

Everyone should check it out; if you like it, please support it!

As his bold transformation, Lao Lu's attempt this time was actually very risky (he could have continued to write the game and comic fanfiction he was good at, and continued on the familiar track, but he did not), but it is precisely because of countless authors who dare to try and have an adventurous spirit that original online novels have flourished.

By the way, there's a character in "Left Path Jianghu" based on me (note: the handsome Wujian). Can you guess who it is?
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(End of this chapter)