Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 688 River Shrimp Lost to Their Homeland

At this moment, Golov and Zimicas crouched together, carefully hiding behind two wooden crates to avoid being caught in the fighting and becoming one of the corpses on the ground.

What the hell is that damn mute doing?
Glov glared angrily at Rolf, who stood in the center of the arena, surrounded by thugs, yet still defiantly confronting Red Viper and the Wanderer.

Yes, those tricks were impressive, taking down a few henchmen and striking a few poses, but...

Couldn't that mute guy see that the warehouse was full of Blood Bottle Gang's elite thugs, layer upon layer, that even if he knocked down ten more people, it would be of no use and there was no chance of winning?

Moreover, the most intractable threat...

Golov shifted his gaze, looking warily at the black-clad assassin whom even the Poor Star Lake Guard couldn't subdue. The assassin stood motionless in the shadows at the other end of the warehouse, observing the situation unfold.

hateful.

Golov slammed his fist into the box.

When will that man in black make his move?
Is it when the battle is at its most intense? When the mute is worn down by the others? Or when both sides have fought to the death and everything has settled down?
Thinking about this, the zombie was extremely conflicted: When the time comes, will Garen Grover himself take action, or will he step in or not?

If you go on stage, you'll expose yourself.

If you don't go, then the mute will...

This mute man deserved to die, but he shouldn't have died like this!

Damn!

He thought it was bad enough, but things got even worse than he imagined.

"I understand his eyes, Xiao Hong."

Ferguson scrutinized Rolf's expression, his seriousness growing.
"Next, he'll probably have to fight us to the death."

Ferguson remained expressionless as he gently raised his longsword.

Nekra, who was having a headache, was startled by what he heard.

Across from them, Rolf sneered, picked up a blood-stained chain sword from the ground, wiped the blood on his sleeve, and then tightly wrapped the chain on the hilt around his arm, seemingly acquiescing.

This action made the surrounding thugs all shudder.

"Just right!"

The red viper gritted its teeth, deciding to disregard gains and losses, and reignited its ferocity:
"Then let's fight to the bitter end! Let the sunset decide who lives and who dies!"

He roared, his hormones surged, and his muscles tensed even more.

Faced with these two formidable adversaries, Rolf grinned and tightened his grip on the chain sword, as if to say: Just what he wanted.

The atmosphere between the three suddenly changed.

What? A life-or-death struggle? Here? At this time?
Golov stared incredulously at Rolf, who was making a grand entrance in the center of the warehouse, and read the horror in the other's actions and expression: This might be true.

Rolf... was prepared to die here.

and many more!

Golov instinctively shook his head:
Is this mute person mentally ill? What's wrong with him?
Emerald City has a pier and a seaside. If you want to commit suicide, there are many other places to go. Why do you have to come here to die?

Is it a matter of homesickness, wanting to die in the gang you came from?
And that female boss who was betrayed—was she the mother of his unborn child or something? Was she that important? Worthy of this mute man risking his life?

No, judging from her age, she's probably the maternal grandmother of his unborn child!

Damn it!

Grover, filled with resentment, grew angrier the more he thought about it, and he was already cursing under his breath.

Moreover, what's the point of them fighting and dying here?

As Golov observed the Blood Bottle Gang members gradually regaining order and discipline, he was annoyed to find that they had lined up again, and the only two exits were once again completely blocked.

Would that female leader be spared by the enemy simply because the mute man died a heroic death and earned respect?

Please, this is a brutal gang war, not a chivalrous duel of lofty ideals!
Besides, did the latter even exist?
Foolish, selfish, and a mute who disregards his comrades!
Fuck him to death!
Just as Golov was cursing inwardly, and Rolf's life-or-death duel against two opponents was unavoidable and about to erupt, a voice echoed softly from the crowd:
"I'm quite pleased to find that the Blood Bottle Gang has such a master."

Golov was startled and immediately raised his alert level to the highest level.

The battle was interrupted, and Rolf, Nekra, and Fogg's momentum weakened slightly. They all turned around: the black-clad assassin, who had not moved for a long time, strode through the crowd and walked towards the three people in the arena.

Tap, tap, tap...

His steps seemed to possess a captivating power, each step tightening everyone's heartbeat.

It causes shortness of breath, palpitations, and chills; many people also experience tense expressions and rapid breathing.

"But I remember now, we actually met before, right?"

The man in black looked at Rolf and chuckled softly:

"Right outside the wool merchant's mansion."

At that moment, Rolf and Golov frowned simultaneously.

Oops.

They were recognized.

One of the things Golov feared most has finally happened.

"You came with them to capture me... The wind was very strong that day, strangely strong, and your legs weren't as nimble as they used to be—a superhuman."

Tap, tap, tap...

The man in black walked forward slowly, each step exuding immense pressure. Coupled with his completely black-clad appearance from head to toe, it inexplicably made people feel uneasy.

Nekra and Fogg exchanged a glance, and the former breathed a sigh of relief and smiled again.

Rolf, on the other hand, faced increased pressure.

He turned around stiffly, looking warily at the approaching man in black, his grip on the chain sword tightening.

As an observer, Golov sighed and instinctively gripped a machete on the ground.

What should he do now?
Go up and join the mute in hacking people?

But if we want to deal with that assassin in black, should we strike first without hesitation? Or should we wait for an opportunity to ambush him from behind? Or should we simply grab the mute and run away?
We can't let him risk his life to stop the assassin, giving the mute man and his lover a chance to escape, can we?

However, the black-clad man's swordsmanship, combined with his strange supernatural abilities, meant that even the traps set up by Lord Marius's Starlake Guards could not harm him.

One of them was still injured, and the other had just fought a battle. They were no match for the other!

Damn it, they went through so much trouble to sneak in and gather so much intelligence, and now all their efforts have been wasted!
Just for... a mute old flame?
Grass!
Zimicas was highly alert to the danger around him. He noticed Golov's movements immediately and was filled with fear:

"Fatty, what are you trying to do? Stop it!"

What do you want?
What?

I want to kill someone right now!
Golov looked at Rolf and spat out a curse.

“I can sense your killing intent, perhaps even hatred, and even the will to die, young man,” the man in black said, his gaze hidden behind dark visors, yet it sent a chill down one’s spine. “I would also be happy to use you to test the mettle of my men.”

Rolf's expression changed, and he was about to launch a sudden attack when he was surprised to find:

Without realizing it, he was trembling so much that he couldn't even lift his arms.

This, so fast?
Oops!

Grover, who was closely monitoring the situation, was startled. Looking at the mute man's expression, he immediately realized what was happening:

It's that kind of superpower!
“Unfortunately, my schedule is too full to play games with you and your master,” the man in black clicked his tongue and shook his head, slowly walking up to Rolf. “Let’s call it a day.”

The next second, Rolf's expression changed, and he swayed!
But he wasn't the only one:
The two thugs standing closest to the man in black, one looked dazed and began muttering to himself, while the other simply fell to the ground with a thud.

Thump! Thud! Snap!
Starting from the man in black, more and more people fell or collapsed in the warehouse. Some were talking in their sleep, some were rubbing their foreheads, and some were fast asleep.

"Ah..."

"Do not……"

"I want to have a good meal..."

"Hahahahaha..."

Nekra and Fogg both took a half step back. Red Viper looked pained, while Fogg looked dazed.

This is bad, this is bad, this is bad!
Seeing the strange behavior of everyone, Golov knew he was in trouble. He was about to rush out and attack the man in black at all costs when he immediately felt a weight on his leg.

“Yes, Mom,” Zimicas slumped against his legs, his eyes glazed over. “I… I worked hard today and earned a lot of money. Yes, Mom, that’s right, Mom, no problem, Mom…”

Golov was about to kick him away, but Tsimikas's expression turned bitter:
"Don't worry, I won't follow in my father's footsteps and join a gang, much less get hacked to death like him... I haven't become a petty thug, I haven't bullied the poor, I earn clean money, honest money, and I'm saving up to hire the best tuberculosis doctor for you... the best..."

Golov's breath hitched. He gritted his teeth, withdrew his raised foot, and gently pushed Zimicas away.

This bastard.

This warehouse... is full of fucking bastards.

But as he pushed Tsimikas aside, Golov suddenly noticed that a pool of blood on the ground in front of Tsimikas had been blown away by the wind, revealing crooked writing:

[Preparation, Contingency Plan]

Golov was startled.

Plan?

What contingency plan?
The next second, little Teto appeared in front of him, skipping and hopping towards him...

no, do not want!

Golov shook his head frantically, trying to shift his attention back to the arena, only to see Rolf bent over in front of the man in black, his face contorted in pain.

It looks like kneeling down.

Damn!

Golov struggled to resist the supernatural power, his heart filled with anxiety:
He should explain himself more clearly!
It can't be that this mute guy has to heroically cover the retreat and create an opportunity for me to escape... Hmm?

Create an opportunity to escape?
Golov was jolted!
At that moment, he suddenly understood.

He understood, he fucking understood what Rolf was going to do!

Rolf breathed in a daze in front of the man in black.

The figures before him changed in various ways: sometimes it was a man in black, sometimes Catherine, sometimes the boy who had changed his fate, and sometimes a pack of ferocious, hungry wild dogs.

He couldn't tell the difference.

“Back when I was just an ordinary citizen, people wouldn’t sit down and listen to me properly.”

The voice of the man in black rang out, as if it came from the horizon.

Rolf shook his head, trying to rub his forehead, but found that his hand touched the ground as soon as he reached out.

Why...did he kneel down?

"So I practiced my sword diligently, swinging it with all my might," the masked man in black continued, "and finally, they were willing to sit down quietly and listen to me."

He patted the hilt of his sword, his tone turning melancholy:
"But it took me a long time to understand: they weren't listening to me, they were only listening to the sword."

Rolf could only see the other man's lips moving up and down, but he had no idea what he was saying.

He was even a little confused: why was the other person opening and closing their lips?
Is it for a meal?

The air pressure went out of control and leaked from the alloy gas cylinder in the prosthesis, but he seemed oblivious.

Until his knees hit a shard of glass, which pierced the gap between the metal and flesh.

The unusual sensation and pain brought him back to his senses!
correct!

He's still in the warehouse, struggling against cruel fate...

Rolf woke up with a start and instinctively reached into his pocket.

That Grover, that big, strong man, that guy everyone said was bad at socializing, but actually just didn't want to socialize and was psychologically twisted, that zombie forced to pair up with him by the terrifying blade...

Can he understand?
Can he do it?
Can he... succeed?

Behind the box, a dizzy and breathless Golov was struggling to reach into his pocket.

That's right.

Why didn't he think of that?

They were surrounded by so many gang members on Blood Bottle Gang territory, including many top-tier experts. If even one of them managed to hold them off for a moment...

With Rolf carrying the heavily injured Phantom Blade, there was no way they could escape.

The two of them alone are not enough.

It's impossible.

After all, they are not the Wrath of the Kingdom.

Therefore, the only feasible way to break through so many people is...

Golov struggled to open his eyes and looked at the panoramic view of the warehouse:
From front to back, from left to right, some members of the Blood Bottle Gang groaned, some moaned, some reached out in a daze, some mumbled to themselves, some clutched their heads in pain, and many more simply passed out.

Nekra slowly slumped against the wall, his eyes closed and his face contorted in pain.

Ferguson looked pale and weak, barely managing to grab the handrail to avoid falling.

Duro sat down on the spot, his eyes glazed over, tears streaming down his face.

Despite varying reactions, at this moment, the gang members in the warehouse collapsed en masse from the man in black outwards, with the vast majority losing their ability to move.

But at least...

Glov, still dizzy, managed to glance to the other side:
The road to the exit has been cleared, and there is no longer a large, dark mass of people blocking it.

Golov swayed and knelt down, finally managing to pull out a section of the syringe with difficulty, and tremblingly removed the cap.

Their contingency plan.

The contingency plan for the Heavenly Fiend.

You're something else, you mute.

Was this planned from the beginning?

only……

Isn't he taking too much of a risk?

With all his might, Golov opened his eyes: in his field of vision, the man in black bent down and looked at the dazed Rolf.

"Now, I give them the dreams they want, hoping they will truly begin to listen to me."

The man in black shook his head slightly.

"But then I discovered that once they start dreaming..."

He glanced at Catherine in the corner, then at the crowd lying haphazardly in the warehouse, and sighed.

"I could no longer hear what I was saying."

Since the Royal Guard—or more precisely, the Starlake Guard—returned defeated and humiliated after their encounter with the Men in Black, Lord Tormund Marius, the Watchman and captain, has been gathering intelligence and devising a strategy.

One of them is how to resist the kind of psychic ability that can inexplicably trap people in hallucinations.

mirage.

Amidst the dizziness, Golov bit his tongue, trying not to look at his brothers and sisters running happily before him—how happy they were then.

The next second, he took a deep breath and injected the needle into his thigh!

Among the six wings of the Royal Guard, the Punishment Wing has a special function, especially specializing in torture and interrogation.

They possess numerous methods and tools, some even dating back to ancient empires. These are historically significant, rich in experience, and have been improved over generations, making them highly efficient and effective. It is said that even the Kingdom's secret police frequently come to borrow manpower or equipment...

For example...

Golov put the syringe back in and pulled out an ordinary clothespin that could be found in any home.

The dazed zombie trembled, and amidst Little Teto's illusory laughter, it followed the advice of the executioner "Gardener" Patterson, clipping it to the skin under its armpit below its shoulder, and only a thin layer at that.

I just don't know when the effects of the Punishment Wings will start to take hold...

But Golov didn't know that.

He closed his eyes in a daze and comfort, and began to think about other things.

For example, Apple.

Apple.

Yes, apples.

[Don't cry, Fatty.]

He clutched the apple in his pocket, wiped the blood off it, and timidly crossed the street toward home—or, as Tinker had said before, his lair.

The apple tasted a bit off; it had more than a dozen cuts on it, all left by the clown's throwing knives.

At that time, while counting the throwing knives in his hand, Kex laughed wildly and said that as long as he held up the apple, stood firmly against the wall, and didn't shake, shout, yell, or cry, then after Kex finished practicing throwing a bag of knives, the delicious apple would be his.

And he did it.

He held the apple steadily, standing firm, and held it even more firmly.

He didn't tremble.

No one shouted.

No one called out.

Even when the Joker's last throwing knife missed the apple and pierced his palm.

She didn't cry.

[Don't cry, Fatty.]

This apple...

It's his.

No, they belong to them.

When he returns to his lair, Lillian, Silly Tinker, Stupid Fountain, Leper, Stinkbug, and that annoying little Teto who's always clinging to him and always has a cold, will all see that he has fresh apples here again!

Lillian will praise him just like she praised Fern last time, right?
Hey, now when I get back, all of them will be envious of me!

Hmph, want some? Then just say "Please, Fatty Bro"?
Finished eating? Then hurry up and say "Thank you, Fatty Bro"!
Now, no one dares to laugh at me for being useless, fat, and only eating without doing anything!
The chubby boy, sniffling, ran off, a sense of pride and satisfaction welling up inside him. Before he knew it, he had touched…

The wound on my hand.

The next moment, in the warehouse filled with murmurs and groans, Golov jolted awake!

Holy crap! ...

He yelled and exhaled all the air from his lungs!

But he didn't have any more time to think about it.

The excruciating pain from his armpit, amplified countless times, caused his back to spasm. Golov clutched the clip under his armpit in agony, rolling around on the ground.

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

He didn't know when, but little Teto disappeared from his sight.

Instead, there was endless, tearing pain.

It was as if someone was holding scissors and, starting from his armpit, slowly, inch by inch, thread by thread, cutting open his skin!

The blade kept making a snapping sound!

They forcefully pulled Golov out of his inescapable memories.

Okay, now Golov knows: the drug has worked.

That's right, this is the fastest "solution" against psychic abilities that Lord Marius developed after gathering intelligence, questioning those present, discussing with the Flag Wing, accepting the suggestions and materials from the Punishment Wing, and commissioning the Logistics Wing to modify it:
A torture agent that amplifies perception, focuses attention, and especially enhances pain sensation.

Another name for it is "Lost River Shrimp".

As for why it's called this...

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Golov screamed in his head as he struggled and writhed on the ground like a shrimp out of water.

Holy crap!

That fucking hurts!
Which damned bastard told Marius that pain could overcome illusions?!
If I find out, I'll tear him apart with my bare hands! Tear him apart alive!

Let's start with every single hair!
Amidst the excruciating pain magnified countless times, Golov trembled as he gripped the clip under his armpit, trying to loosen it a little.

The pain faded.

He then realized that in just a few seconds, he was covered in cold sweat.

Damn "Gardener" Paterson, damn Punishment Wing.

Damn it, the gardener even said that the quantity was reduced after he adjusted it; what if he had given them a full quantity of these "displaced river shrimp"...

Punishment Wings, I'll remember you!
But Golov didn't dare to think about it, nor did he have time to.

"When I was young and passionate, I spoke out for justice, but the world was unwilling to listen."

In the arena, the man in black looked at Rolf, who had completely lost consciousness.

"When I raise my sword and raise my voice with power, the world hears but does not listen."

He slowly reached out and covered Rolf's scarred neck:

"When I suddenly realized my mistake and tried to please them, the world was indifferent to my words."

The man in black sighed deeply:
"Superpowered individuals, do you understand this kind of loneliness?"

However, the next second, the man in black turned around swiftly and drew his long sword!

Ding! clang!
With a sharp metallic clang, the man in black swung his sword to block a knife that suddenly came at him.

The blade and the sword clashed, locked in a struggle.

“You can still move,” the man in black said, breathing naturally and with ease. “That’s quite impressive.”

In front of him, Golov was panting heavily, all his strength concentrated on the hilt of his knife, but he just couldn't break through the black-clad man's blockade.

hateful!

"Your hands are unsteady. Is it because you're injured and haven't fully recovered?"

Golov clenched his teeth, his face contorted.

An injury that hasn't fully healed isn't a real injury!

But damn it...

River shrimp that have lost their homeland!

The power of termination spread, numbing Golov's pain.

It also overwhelmed his thoughts.

In that instant, the zombie's gaze gradually became blank, but its movements were not slow at all, and the blade turned smoothly!
The man in black seemed to sense something, and with a flick of his wrist, he deflected Golov's deadly horizontal slash that came along the blade!
“Wait, you… I recognize you too,” the man in black said with a sneer after recognizing Golov. “The tough guy from the wool merchants who held his own for eight rounds?”

"What about your other companion? The one who initially concealed his strength but actually possesses exquisite swordsmanship and is well-versed in the Legion's Ten Styles?"

Fuck!
The power of termination surged forth, and the zombies, disregarding everything, slashed wildly with their swords!

clang! clang!
The sound of metal clashing rang out repeatedly.

The man in black remained calm and composed as he drew his sword, parrying and countering each move from the front and back, continuously blocking Golov's attacks.

Every swing of his sword, every step he took, and even the slightest movement of his shoulders and wrists was perfectly timed. There was no superfluous move, no wasted technique, and no posture or force that was ineffective.

In comparison, whether it was feints, pressure, killer moves, or defense, every move Golov made seemed to fall short, failing to achieve its goal and proving ineffective, leaving him frustrated and helpless.

While brandishing his sword, the man in black even had the energy to speak: "Not bad, your foundation is solid, but you usually don't use a knife, but a sword, and it's the Imperial Wind—oh, the swordsmanship of the 'Wind Knight' Golov family?"

Grover was taken aback.

"That's strange. The moves are from the Wind Knight lineage, but they lack any agility or grace. Instead, they're sharp and fierce. Did someone switch to a different style halfway through and end up practicing a mix of techniques? Is it not pure enough?"

Golov was taken aback, then responded angrily:
"Fuck your training!"

The power of annihilation within him erupted, and the offensive resumed!
clang!clang!clang!
But Golov's three consecutive strikes were easily blocked by his opponent, and he returned empty-handed, increasingly alarmed:

Strength, speed, agility, dexterity... this guy doesn't surpass me in any of them.

but why……

Why is he always able to defend against, block, and even counter my moves?
He had thought that he would be fine once he overcame the superpower, but now it seemed that the assassin's swordsmanship was even more exquisite and powerful than he had imagined.

Moreover, it's far too strong.

"I see. The problem stems from your power of termination," the man in black sneered. "Heavy, enclosed, restrained, boundless—not the brilliance of stars, not an impenetrable iron wall, not the sorrow of sword washing, yet each possesses its own characteristics, so it is—"

Golov didn't want to hear him speak to him condescendingly like a teacher instructing a student anymore, and his eyes widened in disbelief!
"This is for Teto!"

He roared, attacking relentlessly without defending, and charged at the man in black with his life on the line!

That's too impulsive; he's risking his life like that?

The man in black sneered, the arc of his longsword flowing naturally and skillfully, deftly deflecting Golov's first strike with a single move.

He moved nimbly, taking several steps back at just the right moment to avoid the remaining attacks from Golov.

This offensive, though seemingly fierce and ruthless, leaves no room for maneuver.

Once the momentum dies down, it'll be time for this brainless behemoth to get beaten up...

Ok?
wrong!

At that moment, the man in black looked up alertly!

Directly above him, a huge wooden sign hanging from the warehouse ceiling was suspended by the last rope, teetering precariously.

This is--

The man in black's pupils contracted.

laugh!
The next second, a chain sword whirled past and cut the rope.

No.

The man in black was surprised to see out of the corner of his eye that Rolf had woken up at some point.

The Wind Demon, panting heavily, stuffed the syringe back into his pocket, and the chain sword that had been in his other hand had disappeared.

It's him.

The man in black instantly understood: it was this guy who, while maneuvering and leaping through the warehouse, had cut the ropes on the signboard one by one, leaving only the last one, intending to cut it at the crucial moment...

As for the other guy...

The man in black glanced again—Groof continued his momentum, rolling away from him with all his might.

His desperate attack was just to force me into this position?

These steps, including the superhuman with exceptional leg skills pretending to fight the Red Viper to the death, actually forcing me to use my powers, could it also be...?

Was it planned in advance?

Just as the astonished man in black came to his senses, the huge wooden sign crashed down, propelled by a strange wind, and landed right on his head!

"boom!"

Amidst the deafening roar, dust billowed throughout the warehouse.

Rolf waved to Golov, then covered his mouth and nose, turned around, picked up Catherine, and leaped into the air.

On the other side, Golov did not stop either. He covered his head and face, shoved aside two gang members who had just woken up and were still confused, and rushed to the back door of the warehouse and kicked them!
boom!
The back door was kicked open, and sunlight and fresh air rushed in.

Bright, fresh, warm.

free.

Most of the people inside and outside the warehouse were either under the influence of supernatural powers and were still in a daze, or had just woken up and were still confused. They moved through the warehouse unimpeded.

"quick!"

Urged anxiously by Golov, Rolf, carrying Catherine, leaped out of the dark and dangerous warehouse, his prosthetic leg now fully pressurized!

Successful.

Golov punched a shaky lookout who was getting up, rushed outside, caught up with Rolf, and ran for his life.

But there's only one thing he wants to do right now.

That is to roar to the sky:

Damn it, they broke through and escaped!

Damn those "displaced river shrimp"!
Grover and Rolf exchanged a glance, their speed undiminished, and rushed towards the escape route they had planned before arriving, disappearing from the dock.

Wow!

Inside the warehouse, a huge signboard shattered in the middle, splitting in two.

The man in black, sword in hand, slowly stood up, just in time to see the two figures disappear around a corner.

He said nothing, simply turned and disappeared into the shadows.

Throughout the warehouse, from Nekra to Forg, everyone seemed to awaken from a dream. They struggled to their feet, looked at each other, still unaware of what had happened.

----

----

"That man in black, he didn't, he didn't chase after us. It's really, really a miracle."

Golov hid under a bridge pier, his machete pressed against the ground, breathing heavily.

On the other side, Rolf, nearly exhausted, struggled to put Catherine down and collapsed onto the ground.

After rushing out of the warehouse, they ran through a maze of twists and turns for an unknown amount of time until they were too exhausted to run any further and then took a short rest.

Rolf laboriously raised his right hand and gestured:

Thank you, and I'm sorry.

But before he could finish making the gesture, Golov, who had just regained some strength, threw down his machete and pounced on him, punching him in the face!

Boom!
Rolf fell to the ground, seeing stars.

"Hold!"

Golov roared, patting his blood-stained chest:

"I took countless blows during that big show just now!"

He pointed angrily at the still-bloodied machete:

"You killed five or six people, covered in blood, and almost didn't survive—all for you and your old flame! You damn idiot who has no one to sleep with!"

Rolf got up, trembling, and struggled to make gestures.

Yes, no—

But Golov didn't even look at him, and punched him in the face again!

"Let me escape first, right? Hahaha, thank you so much, you're even more self-righteous than Big Dick, talking to yourself like that!"

The zombie was so angry that it started cursing:

"I'll run away first? Then in front of everyone else, I'll become the sinner who abandoned his comrades, the traitor, the coward, right! I really want to break your legs—your arms! I'll run away, I'll run away, where am I supposed to run to in such a big warehouse! I'll run away, I'll run away from you—"

Rolf, panting, activated his supernatural power; the wind whipped up fallen leaves, which landed in front of Golov and formed words:

【sorry. 】

Golov was taken aback.

"Sorry, you son of a bitch!"

He gritted his teeth:
"You deserve to be crippled!"

Rolf, who had been holding back his temper, couldn't help but widen his eyes in anger upon hearing this, and quickly began to gesture:

[I apologized! I apologized! Three times! Three times! Three times! You stupid idiot who can't even find a way to escape! Want to fight again?!]

Just then, a weak voice rang out.

"You, cough cough, who are you?"

Glov and Rolf were both taken aback.

Phantom Blade Catherine struggled to lift her head, clutching her severed arm, her face contorted in pain.

Golov snorted coldly, leaned close to Rolf, and whispered:

"I'll settle the score with you when we get back!"

Rolf stomped on the prosthetic leg without backing down, responding with a metallic clang.

"Where are you going, uh...?" Catherine closed her eyes, writhing in pain.

“None of your business, you old woman,” Golov wiped the dried blood from his face, his tone anything but friendly. “You just lie there and play dead.”

Catherine smiled helplessly.

Seeing that Golov was not easy to talk to, she turned to Rolf:
"I need a doctor, I can't survive... You, all of you too."

Rolf watched her silently, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

“Since you saved me—hiss—if I die from my injuries, wouldn’t it have been a waste of your efforts?” Catherine closed her eyes again. “Right?”

Big Sister...

Rolf instinctively opened his mouth, but could only utter a simple guttural sound: "Ah."

"Very good. You, what's your name?"

Rolf clenched his fists and shook his head.

Phantom Blade raised his head and forced out a sentence:
"Why are not you talking?"

Rolf swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in his chest.

The atmosphere beneath the bridge pier fell silent.

"Don't bother him!"

Golov couldn't help but snort:
"Can't you tell? He freaking doesn't want to talk to you!"

For a fleeting moment, Rolf felt grateful to Golov.

Catherine's face paled, and she leaned back against him.

"You will die too."

"Alright, we'll find you a doctor. Now shut up." Golov clapped his hands impatiently, calculating the route from here to Kongming Palace.

No, you don't understand.

Phantom Blade spoke with difficulty, his voice broken: "I just met the steward of the Void Palace, but then... Kevin Deer, it seems he's determined to eliminate me—hiss—wash, wash the Blood Bottle Gang."

Shuffle Blood Bottle Gang.

Upon hearing this, Golov frowned and subconsciously exchanged a glance with Rolf, but after realizing it was the other person, the two scoffed and turned their heads away.

"So that means your enemy is Kongming Palace?"

“It’s one, the whole Emerald City, they’re all enemies,” Catherine gasped as Rolf scooped her some water and carefully fed her. “If you show yourself, you’ll die.”

Golov frowned.

That means they can't go back to Kongming Palace.

It's no longer safe there.

We can't just go back like this, otherwise it will only cause trouble for His Highness.

hateful.

Thinking of this, Golov couldn't help but sigh.

"In Emerald City, is there anywhere else you can stay? It would be best if there was a doctor, otherwise we can hold on, but you won't live long."

“Originally, yes. But since Kevin Deer has abandoned me,” Catherine closed her eyes, shook her head, and groaned through gritted teeth, “then I can’t go—ahhhh.”

"Then where else can you go?"

"Roger and Taremi were not involved in the recent mutiny, and their territory is safe for the time being."

“Yes, except for one thing: they’re all dead!” Golov shook his head dismissively.

"Correct."

Catherine rested for a while, then reopened her eyes, a long-lost ferocity reappearing in them:

"In that case, there will only be one place to go in the entire Emerald City."

"where?"

"You won't like it."

Upon hearing this, Golov and Rolf exchanged a glance, then snorted in unison again and turned their heads away disdainfully.

----

after an hour.

"Huh? Who are you? Why are you holding a knife—Hey, let me go, no, no, no!!!"

Boom!
Grover, impatient, knocked out the deformed man with the tumor in front of him who was shouting and yelling. Then he kicked open the half-closed iron gate, picked up his knife, and walked down the stone steps.

Behind him, Rolf struggled to carry Catherine, who had fainted again, as they slowly made their way into the narrow passage.

Damn it, who would live in this godforsaken place? Oh well, whoever it is...

Grover, panting heavily, gritted his teeth and spoke, reminding the people in the passageway:
"I just killed five, no, six people, before I found this godforsaken place where there's no sunlight!"

At this moment, he was covered in wounds, blood and sweat, sticky and smelly, and his shoes were full of sewage from the sewer he had just stepped in, which stank horribly. It was really hard for him to be in a good mood.

Especially when he knocked on the door for a long time and no one answered.

"Just to find one person, just one person! To be honest, my patience is almost gone!"

Glov was too tired to speak, and dealing with people wasn't his forte, but don't forget...

The two people behind him were a seriously wounded soldier and a mute.

Fuck!
Thinking of this, Golov cursed inwardly.

He had the worst luck today!
"Stop! This abandoned sewer was given to us by Roger, the leader of the Blood Bottle Gang!"

A short, stout man in a long robe, seemingly the leader, stepped forward, nervously eyeing the machete clearly in the man's hand: "Whoever you are, for the sake of 'Dungeon' Roger..."

Roger is a damn dead!

Grover said impatiently:
"Two hours ago, someone stabbed me through the stomach, and my breakfast spilled out!"

The short, stout man was startled by what he heard, and the people around him whispered in fear.

Sure enough, if you don't speak like this, no one will understand you.

Golov snorted coldly and raised his machete:

"So, you'd better be sensible now—"

But just a second later, Golov's knife stopped.

Golov's eyes widened, and the rest of his words stuck in his throat, unable to come out.

Eh?
At that moment, he realized that the tip of his knife was pointing at a poorly dressed, bewildered boy.

what?
The other person stared at him in disbelief, their lips twitching.

One second later.

“Your Highness—” Golov exclaimed in surprise.

"Brother—" the boy said instinctively.

Upon hearing the other person's words, the two of them suddenly changed color and stopped talking at the same time!
"Wyman!"

At that moment, Thales Star and Garen Grover, facing each other, spoke in unison, with absolute certainty:
My name is Wyman!

(End of this chapter)