Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 752 The End of a Tycoon
"I understand."

King Lausanne II spoke softly:
"That's why he, Turnbull, said those things before he died."

I understand... You're right, kid. I shouldn't... I shouldn't have thought I could play their games...

The assassin's gaze was lifeless.

He felt as if he had returned to that abandoned house on that rainy night, watching the old gang leader lying in endless pools of blood, desperate and insane, howling with sorrow and resentment.

"And so, amidst the tumultuous family feud within the Iris family, Turnbull, in his arrogance, feigned submission, swearing allegiance to the powerful Duke, while simultaneously harboring secret ambitions and engaging in clandestine relations with the restless Viscount..."

Belicia sneered:
"According to the old wall lamp himself, one of his ancestors was a descendant of Kevin Deer's offspring—they're all family, so what difference does it make who he helps?"

King Lausanne II did not smile.

But he understood.

Turnbull watched as the infighting Iris family gradually won him over and became more dependent on him, granting him more resources and privileges, and elevating him from a peasant to a collaborator.

While secretly observing and influencing the situation, he would occasionally add fuel to the fire or pour water on Emerald City, keeping the cauldron at a suitable temperature for the Blood Bottle Gang to grow stronger.

The woman crossed her arms:

"Once he returns to the Blood Bottle Gang, in addition to balancing his subordinates and eliminating dissidents, he also has to pretend that he has too many things to do and is having a lot of headaches with the newly formed Brotherhood, so as to nurture enemies to maintain his own importance and show weakness to the outside world."

Belica's smile vanished in an instant, her expression gradually freezing.

"Clearly, our old boss was handling things with ease, performing almost perfectly, and fooling everyone from top to bottom."

almost.

Just almost.

King Lausanne II looked ashen-faced.

Because Turnbull forgot.

Even if he really is Kevin Deer's relative.

He doesn't have the surname Kevin Deer either.

Even with a large and powerful family, he was practically an underground king.

He still couldn't stand the light of day.

“I guess that one day, the two Kevindir brothers, who were fighting tooth and nail, wishing they could tear the flesh off each other, suddenly had a change of heart,” Belisia said, his emotions complex and nuanced, “and made up their minds to reach a consensus…”

King Lausanne II quietly finished the other person's words:

"Discard Turnbull."

Discard the wobble that no longer obeys.

Even if it comes at the cost of weakening the Blood Bottle Gang.

“But unlike us, those are naturally noble big shots, respectable people, civilized people. They don’t like to draw their knives and kill people at the drop of a hat, causing bloodshed,” Belicia sneered. “They need to complete the transfer of power in the Blood Bottle Gang in a dignified, stable, safe, quiet and without any repercussions.”

Decent.

King Lausanne II remained expressionless.

Of course.

Blood flowed like rivers among the lower classes, and the underclass harmed one another.

The people at the top were toasting and laughing, their lives thriving.

Isn't that decent enough?
"The first step is to sideline Turnbull and gradually sever his control over the Blood Bottle Gang—just like Turnbull did to the Eastsea people back then."

Belicia gave a soft hum:
"And when a behemoth like the Sky Palace comes crashing down, bypassing Turnbull and pressing down on us with its interests and authority, guess what those scumbags will do—Rube, Solo, Red Viper, Song, Flying Knife Clown, Knife Bitch, War Wolf, and even the seemingly most loyal Fogg…"

Those fanatical lackeys that Turnbull had amassed through deception, coercion, and bribery, and by killing off the previous leaders, were now pledging their loyalty to him.

Belica tossed her hair, exuding charm, a mocking smile playing on her lips:
"How many can grit their teeth and endure it, remaining chaste for the sake of the old gang leader?"

Of course, there have been people like that before.

It's just gone.

“But that’s not enough,” Losang II suddenly said.

Belicia nodded:
"That's not enough. They also want to take away his weapon that intimidates the enemy, his sharpest blade."

“They have sown discord between Turnbull and me,” Lausanne II realized, “making him doubt me and fear me.”

And eventually they took action to get rid of me.

"The order is wrong."

Losang II frowned.

"It's not about making him doubt you."

Belisia coldly replied:
"It's to make you doubt him."

The vampire assassin frowned slightly.

I doubt him?

The assassin frowned slightly.

“I have neither the reason nor the knowledge to covet Turnbull…”

Just then, he remembered something, and his expression suddenly changed.

A few seconds later, he looked at Belicia again, his eyes lifeless and desolate.

Yes, darling.

Belicia came back to him and sighed softly.

“The small doses of drugs I mixed into your food a long time ago were not meant to weaken or control you.”

The beautiful woman before him gave a sorrowful smile:

"They exist so that you can discover them."

They discovered they had been poisoned.

For a moment, Lausanne II's mind went blank.

The smile of the beautiful woman before me gradually overlapped with the curve of the girl's lips from back then.

The girl from back then slowly shook her head, her tone ethereal:

"Because of you, darling, you knew from the beginning that I am Turnbull's bitch."

Lausanne II closed his eyes.

So I began to doubt Turnbull.

Beware of Turnbull.

“Aren’t you afraid that if I find out what you’ve done, I’ll kill you on the spot?” The assassin’s eyes were tightly closed, and his voice trembled slightly. “Or even worse: take you to Turnbull for a confrontation?”

Belicia chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the dark dungeon, cold and eerie.

"Afraid."

It seemed both ironic and helpless.

"I was terrified, I had nightmares, and I couldn't sleep."

Belisia paid no attention to the dirty ground, and sat down at an angle, gently holding the assassin's head and letting him rest on her thigh.

"I'm so afraid that all I can do is hold you tight day and night, without saying a word, numb myself."

She said dreamily.

At that moment, King Losang II suddenly realized that he could not stop trembling.

"Then why..."

“But do you think that during the days I’m around you ‘heroes,’ playing my part and racking my brains to survive,” Belisia interrupted him, embracing the vampire assassin and staring blankly into the darkness, “there’s ever been a single day when I could sleep soundly without fear or nightmares?”

King Lausanne II opened his eyes.

“Of course you don’t think so, the Blood Bottle Gang’s number one assassin, the infamous Losang II,” the woman said casually, “because you’re used to wielding a sword and can never imagine my situation, my choices.”

"Like those heroes who once embraced me, when they saw me smiling so brightly, they always assumed that I was enjoying myself, 'I suppose it was all voluntary?'"

Belica laughed heartily.

For some reason, hearing her laughter made King Losang II feel a chill in his heart.

“But there was a moment when my fear reached a certain limit, and I felt, ah, so be it,” Belicia gently stroked his blood-stained face, her eyes dimming, “Even if you discover the truth and kill me with a single sword, it doesn’t seem so bad?”

The assassin fell silent.

The dungeon remained deathly silent for several seconds until Belicia sighed, bringing him back to the present from his reverie.

"Of course, you didn't expose me after all."

The beautiful woman's eyes sparkled, and she chuckled.
"But to say that you are easily swayed and have a soft spot for women would be to underestimate you."

King Lausanne II gritted his teeth.

“I think it’s probably because you know that whether you kill me or lead me to Turnbull, whatever the outcome…”

Belicia meticulously combed through the assassin's blood-stained, foul-smelling hair, as if she were grooming her own.
"You can't trust him anymore."

King Lausanne II's eyes dimmed.

“Even if Turnbull vehemently denies it, acts completely innocent, tortures me to death, and then adds the excuse that ‘she must be a spy,’” Belicia looked at the assassin, “would you then let go of your suspicions and stop doubting him altogether…”

She winked slyly:

"Or should I become more vigilant and cautious, suspecting that he's just using me as a scapegoat to silence me and leave no evidence against me?"

King Lausanne II was speechless.

“But you,” he said quietly, “how did you manage to turn the tables and make Turnbull suspect me, even to the point that he decided to get rid of me?”

Belica smiled again.

"Feelings and emotions are wonderful, yet fair, things."

“When you start to doubt others,” she said, pressing her cheek against Lausanne II’s, “the other person will sense it.”

King Lausanne II's gaze sharpened.

If you want people to trust you completely, you must treat them with sincerity.

He then recalled the words of that filthy creature at the feast, about psychic abilities.

“And those you doubt will start to doubt you in return,” Belicia said softly.

If you want someone to love you deeply, you must first give them your true heart.

King Lausanne II took a deep breath.

"When you first set up a safe house away from the old gang leader's eyes and ears, when you started to repeatedly check and verify the intelligence he gave you when you took on jobs, when you deliberately did not follow the task list and suggestions he gave you, when you were fully armed and wary of your surroundings every time you met him, when you always chose a time and place that was safe for you but threatening to him..."

Belicia recounted the various events of the past, finally letting out a sigh:
"Tell me, when did Turnbull, that ambitious and brilliant man, stop trusting you?"

Building trust is difficult, but destroying trust is even more so...

King Lausanne II remained silent.

“Perhaps you didn’t realize it, but it was precisely around that time that your reputation began to spread more and more fiercely within the gang,” Belicia said with a hazy look in his eyes and a deep tone, as if he were telling a story to a child, “The mysterious and cruel blade, the murderer who has killed countless people, the top master of the Blood Bottle Gang: Losang II.”

She chuckled:
"Even your name was bestowed upon you by the old gang leader, which shows how much he values ​​and trusts you... Does this mean that if the gang leader is no longer around, you will have to take up the banner of the Blood Bottle Gang?"

King Lausanne II clenched his fist.

No.

"In the end, everyone who heard those rumors will have the same misconception: Turnbull rose to power and supported the Blood Bottle Gang because of you and your sword."

Belicia said softly:
"And you, my dear, you are the undisputed next leader of the gang."

The next gang leader.

At the very least, they are someone the next gang leader cannot afford to offend and must win over and appease.

Turnbull then began to suspect him.

Locked up, King Lausanne II leaned against the woman's chest and exhaled with difficulty.

“He shouldn’t have believed these rumors; he should have come to me directly to clarify things.”

Belicia's eyes lit up.

"He's here."

But she gave a cold laugh and changed the subject:
"But don't forget, the old wall lamp suspects you, fears you, and is wary of you, just like the reason you don't go to him: he doesn't even know whether your words are trustworthy."

So he will never come to me directly.

King Lausanne II's eyes narrowed.

Belicia clicked his tongue and said, "At this point, given Turnbull's personality, the only way he can truly trust you and determine your credibility is... "

She did not continue.

Because King Lausanne II already knew the answer.

"you."

The vampire assassin was stunned.

Yes, it's me.

Belica smiled, her face beaming.
"Turnbull's bitch."

Lausanne II closed his eyes again.

"Sowing discord between two sides and creating space for the middleman to profit—this was Turnbull's forte, whether it was sending me to deal with Bot or him dealing with the Iris Brothers..."

Belica remarked with some emotion:

"He probably never imagined that years later, someone would turn around and do the same thing to him."

Or perhaps it is because he is so deeply immersed in this path that when it involves himself, he becomes even more unable to extricate himself.

At this moment, King Lausanne II had mixed feelings.

He got it.

The problem isn't the drugs.

It's not even in Belize.

The seeds of doubt were sown long, long ago, long before they even realized it, between Turnbull and him, between the old gang leader and the number one assassin.

It had even sprouted long before he met Turnbull.

Old gang leader.

Old friend.

Lao Da Guo (Old Big Pot)

King Lausanne II suddenly opened his eyes.

"All of this is enough for him to suspect, betray, or even kill me?"

Belicia chuckled softly.

"Don't forget, Turnbull is no ordinary person either."

She thought of her old friend, and her eyes welled up with apprehension and disgust, it was hard to say which was more prominent.

"From a small-time hoodlum to the leader of the Blood Bottle Gang, after so many years of fighting and struggling, he is particularly sensitive to the slightest movement around him. Perhaps there is no concrete evidence, but he sensed it: not only you, but many of his subordinates are looking at him differently now."

"At some point, although the infighting within the Iris Flower Clan of Emerald City continued, the blades of their mutual slaughter had quietly turned and were now aimed at him alone."

"He sensed the crisis, suspected that he was losing control of the Blood Bottle Gang and was about to become a pawn, while many of his subordinates were being gradually turned against him and secretly conspiring to install a new gang leader."

The femme fatale gently stroked the assassin's face, her touch both tender and earnest:
This time, his suspicions were finally correct.

Or rather, I had so many doubts.

It will always be the same as last time.

Or rather, all those repeated doubts...

That's enough to turn doubt into reality.

King Lausanne II sensed something and sighed softly.

“Turnbull is not one to sit idly by,” Belicia said calmly. “So he reacted immediately and took immediate action: secretly investigating the movements of his subordinates, testing their loyalty, reducing their power, cutting off their profits, and eliminating their means and possibilities to threaten him.”

She gave a sarcastic smile:
Unfortunately, his investigation only confirmed his fears and suspicions time and again.

"His actions to eliminate the threat further deepened his subordinates' fear and suspicion of him."

“Pushing him step by step toward a higher and steeper cliff.”

King Lausanne II already knew the ending, and was even in the midst of it, but upon hearing this, he still felt a heavy weight in his heart.

Turnbull.

This ruthless man was unwilling to sit and wait for his death, so he got up and started walking.

But standing on the edge of a cliff and taking a step is tantamount to courting death.

"What did he do?"

"I can't believe it," the assassin said absentmindedly.

Belicia raised an eyebrow.

"Tell me, what should a person do when they find themselves having lost an old friend?"

Lausanne II refocused his gaze and looked at Belicaia with a sorrowful expression.

“You got it right, darling,” Belicia said playfully. “Make new friends.”

New friend.

King Lausanne II remained silent.

"So, when he felt he could no longer control the storm before him, Turnbull began to seek new power, new downstream partners—or upstream partners? Just like he had brought in the Emerald City's help in the Blood Bottle Gang, which was full of the remnants of power from the Eastsea people."

This would allow him to protect himself, and even go further, without having to look back or fear Kevin Deer's powerful support.

“And he found it,” the assassin said slowly.

Belicia nodded, his gaze complex.

"It seems so, and that gave him immense confidence, enough to make him determined to eliminate those traitors who dared to collude with outsiders and undermine his authority, starting with the gang itself, in the most swift and ruthless way."

Lausanne II responded blankly:

"That rainy night, the abandoned house, that decisive battle."

Belicia first sighed, then chuckled.

"Somehow, Turnbull came up with a plan to kill two birds with one stone: he pretended to devise a scheme, mobilized the entire gang, and launched a full-scale attack on the underworld brotherhood that had been lurking around for several years and was difficult to eradicate."

The woman said softly:
"Red Viper, Knife, and Ferguson are fighting on the periphery, clipping their wings, while Old Wall Lamp and you are heading straight for the key, the Decapitation Black Sword—sounds impressive, a real big move, doesn't it?"

The vampire assassin did not respond.

Belicia gave a sad smile:
"Besides the fact that this is actually a bait, a trap, with malicious intent, the purpose is to expose weaknesses in order to lure those who have been turned into rebellion, to force them to show themselves, so that Turnbull can wipe them out in one fell swoop, clean house, and regain power."

To regain our prestige.

Listening to her words, King Lausanne II seemed to be transported back to that rainy night.

There, he watched quietly as Turnbull polished his armor and recounted the origins of the Blood Bottle Gang to his seemingly imposing but actually scheming subordinates.

The bottle does not contain wine.

There is no king in the country.

At that time, every word the other person said had a deeper meaning.

"How did you know?" Losang II returned to the present, his tone cold.

Belicia shook her head:
“I’m his whore—there are many things men don’t say to their wives, but they say to whores.”

The beauty sighed, stroking Losang II's face, but her gaze remained fixed on the sewage on the ground.

"The good news is that Turnbull's bait plan was very successful. Whether on the periphery or at the center, the traitors within the gang who harbored disloyal intentions could not hold back in the end, and one by one they all showed up."

Belicia's gaze wandered:

"The bad news is: his plan seems to have been too successful."

She raised her head, feeling pleased and content.
“Everyone, almost everyone in the gang, from thugs to strategists, from bodyguards to prostitutes, every single one of them betrayed him.”

The beauty said softly:
“Even including—his so-called new friends.”

The words fell silent, and the sentence ended.

Just like the end of that tycoon's life.

King Lausanne II closed his eyes tightly.

He miscalculated.

His voice sounded tired.

Belicia laughed dismissively:
"Yes, who would have thought that cunning old wall lamp, who even had two exits in his bedroom, would be so reckless as to try to wipe them all out and risk a big one? In the end, he not only fooled everyone and caused the Blood Bottle Gang to suffer heavy losses, but also ended up taking his own life in the process."

"Do not."

King Lausanne II suddenly opened his eyes.

"Quite the opposite."

Belicia looked puzzled.

"It's not because he's willing to risk everything."

The former top assassin's eyes were filled with sorrow, concealing an unspeakable pain:

"But because...because of his new friend."

Belicia keenly sensed that something was wrong:

"What do you mean?"

Because you made new friends?
So, we have to abandon our old friends?
King Lausanne II smiled.

His smile was desolate and helpless.

It turned out to be the case.

Turnbull.

You son of a bitch.

I don't owe you anything anymore.

The assassin slowly said:

"Because this plan to kill two birds with one stone and 'catch them all in one fell swoop' was not someone else's idea, nor was it Turnbull's own, but rather the request of his 'new friends'."

Belicia frowned.

"For these new friends, if Turnbull's Blood Vial Gang has been exposed to the enemy's sights, is no longer effective, no longer able to stir up trouble in the Emerald City, no longer able to wreak havoc for their own interests, and no longer able to divide and attack the Kevin Deer family, causing the Iris to gradually decline amidst escalating internal strife..."

Upon hearing this, Belicia's expression changed slightly.

“Then why not uproot Turnbull and the Blood Vial Gang together, ‘wiping them out in one fell swoop’,” King Lausanne II gasped. “So that even if the Emerald City, the Lenster brothers, and the Sona brothers eliminate Turnbull, all they will gain back is a fragmented and disorganized Blood Vial Gang…”

Just like today...

"I can no longer serve Kongming Palace."

Furthermore, it cut off the iris's access to the lower levels of society. "I think that's the real purpose of 'wiping them all out,'" King Lausanne II concluded weakly.

Belicia was stunned for several seconds before she came to her senses.

"how do you know?"

how could I know?

King Lausanne II lay on the ground and gave a sarcastic smile.

"Because I finally figured it out, and understood why Turnbull, even when he was desperate, didn't come to me or tell me the truth, but instead kept his suspicions and distance from me."

The assassin's gaze was desolate:
"It's not just that he's wary of me."

He said quietly:

"More importantly, because he understands me."

Just like I know him.

“Turnbull, he knows my past.”

Losang II was lost in thought, as if he had returned to that yellow sand from long ago.

"Therefore, he knew that once he confessed the truth to me, once I knew who his new friend was..."

The assassin took a deep breath, his gaze resolute, yet his tone carried a hint of barely perceptible hatred:
"Then I will abandon him without hesitation."

He was resolute:
"We parted ways with him."

They are even irreconcilable enemies.

Belica frowned.

She didn't understand.

"As for why Turnbull wanted to kill me..."

King Lausanne II laughed sadly:
"Why was he so determined, even knowing it was extremely risky, to meticulously plan and scheme on that rainy night, first feigning weakness, and then decisively striking when both I and Black Sword were severely injured, all to kill me..."

The assassin took a deep breath and looked up at the endless darkness above:

"Because that's the condition."

He harbored deep resentment:
"It was his deal with his 'new friend' to get his help—Turnbull had to live if I had to die."

Belicia was completely stunned.

"Why, why?"

She was puzzled:
"His new friends, what exactly is their relationship with you...?"

But Lobsang II interrupted her without hesitation:
Ironically, Turnbull only discovered at the very end that the new friends and new forces he had made in order to protect himself did not actually care about his surrender or value.

The assassin's smile was sorrowful:

Even if he eliminates me as agreed...

"The Black Sword and the Brotherhood..."

In order to cultivate enemies and enhance his own power, Turnbull essentially allowed and even fostered the street gangs he created...

Losang II said in a daze:
"We didn't go easy on him either."

At that moment, everything in the dungeon changed.

He heard eerie whispers, a constant buzzing in his ears.

Just like the drizzling rain all around.

Like the trembling and panting of a black sword.

Just like the faint shouts of battle from several blocks away, during the decisive battle between the Blood Bottle Gang and the Brotherhood.

I get it... You're right, kid.

In his helpless gaze, the old gang leader, now only half a body, laughed painfully and desperately as he crawled toward him inch by inch.

I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have presumptuously thought I could play their games.

And he was powerless, only able to watch in shock as Turnbull, on his deathbed, stretched out his trembling hand.

He handed over that solid piece of source blood.

Survive, kid, see the ugly side of this world... Survive!

The next second, King Losang II trembled and gasped for breath!

The superpower dissipated, and everything in my memory crumbled.

"What is this... No, no, no, you pig... Goddess above... I will take action, I swear I will..."

Bellycia lay beside him, clutching her forehead in pain, struggling to distinguish between illusion and reality:

"No, where am I... my head..."

So what?
Lausanne II ignored Belicia, who was affected by the supernatural power, and stared blankly at the thick darkness above him.

Old friend, boss, old leader.

Thanks to you—or perhaps your misfortune—I survived.

I've seen the true colors of this world.

It was uglier than I had imagined.

But so what?

to the end.

It's good for you, and it's good for me.

We are still in a cage.

Trapped in this dark, sunless dungeon.

Helpless and powerless.

Unable to move.

Even if we know and see clearly, what can we do?
"Belicia, go back."

"Los Angeles II said quietly."

Belisia gritted her teeth and looked up, having just shaken off the effects of her powers.

"You've asked what you wanted to ask," the vampire prisoner said coldly, reverting to the unapproachable assassin he once was. "And I know what I wanted to know."

Anyway, everything from back then was a joke.

Lausanne II's gaze gradually cooled.

No one can escape the curse of power.

Whether you value it, despise it, scorn it, or ignore it.

nobody.

"but--"

“Having obtained so much intelligence, whether useful or not, they should be satisfied,” Losang II said, closing his eyes. “That important figure outside the door should no longer make things difficult for you.”

Judging from that prince's personality, he probably wouldn't.

Hopefully not.

Belicia was slightly out of breath, and looked up in confusion at the dungeon exit.

"And what about you?" she asked absentmindedly.

I?
King Lausanne II remained silent for a long while.

“It’s none of your business,” he said numbly.

Let's go back.

He said quietly.

Don't come back.

Stay away from the unbearable past.

Anyway, even if I see the past clearly...

It won't change the future.

Belicia covered his forehead and remained silent for a long time.

"that's it?"

“That’s it,” he said coldly.

"You were kept in the dark before, but now that you know the truth, don't you have anything to say? Whether we betrayed Turnbull and you, or Turnbull betrayed you, or he was betrayed by a new friend..."

"No."

The assassin coldly interrupted her.

Everything is his own fault.

Everything is preordained.

There's no escaping it.

That's it.

What else can be said? What grievances can be voiced?
Belicia's breathing quickened.

"Ha, you're so magnanimous and open-minded? Just as calm as before you knew the truth?"

She sneered:
"Isn't there even the slightest bit of resentment and anger? That resentment that, even if you were dead, would have been enough to make you crawl back from the River of Hell to seek justice?"

King Losang II slowly opened his eyes and looked at her coldly.

“I know you want to provoke me, stir up my anger, shake my mind, and lead me to surrender to the big shot outside the door in exchange for a reward—or peace.”

Just like she did back then.

Just like what she excelled at throughout her life.

Just like what she relied on to climb to this position step by step.

“But I am not you, Belicia.”

Belicia's expression changed upon hearing this.

King Lausanne II's expression remained unchanged:

“Even if I feel resentment, I will not do what you did, relying on a higher power to ‘seek justice’.”

Belicia's breathing stopped.

"You know nothing." She gritted her teeth, her expression complicated.

King Lausanne II was silent for a moment:

"That night at North Gate Bridge, there was a young man in black silk wielding a knife, the one who liked to ambush—was he your new lover?"

Belicia's expression changed:
"Leyok? He came to see you?"

King Lausanne II smiled.

"Don't worry, he's still alive, and I didn't use excessive force."

The assassin's gaze changed:
"But this reminded me."

He gazed at Belicia with a wistful look, as if gazing at a girl from the past:
“It’s not just me, and it’s not just Turnbull. Your success in the Brotherhood today is no accident. Belicia, you’ve always been scheming and cunning, finding stronger backers and climbing to higher positions step by step. In some ways, you’re even better than Little Knife.”

King Lausanne II changed his tone:
"But have you thought about where this road ends?"

Belicia was stunned.

"Including myself, all those men you've relied on, used, or even betrayed—those heroes and powerful figures—whether their feelings for you were possessiveness, impulse, pity, trust, or even love..."

Why did you come back?

Belicia suddenly raised his voice, interrupting Lausanne II.

Her chest heaved, and she had to take a deep breath to compose herself.
"I mean, if you really are as indifferent as you say, and don't care how many people you were deceived, manipulated, betrayed, and brutally raped by back then..."

She stared intently at King Lausanne II.

"Then why did you come back to Star City to kill, vent your anger, seek revenge, and turn the entire Emerald City into chaos?"

Why bother to awaken her long-dormant memories one by one?

Force her to return to this place she least wants to come back to?

Faced with those unbearable memories of the past?
King Lausanne II was neither able nor able to resist. He looked at the hand gripping his collar and smiled.

"Revenge? Revenge on whom?"

Belicia was taken aback.

King Losang II simply smiled, seemingly unconcerned:
"To you? To Little Knife? To Red Viper and Fogg? To Fisseau? To Balta? To Black Sword and the Black Street Brotherhood? Or to the successors of those great figures from back then?"

His expression changed:
"Or rather, does so-called revenge really have any meaning?"

"then you--"

“That’s right! I’ve wondered too: Why have we, Turnbull and I, ended up in this situation? Are we not strong enough? Or not smart enough? Not careful enough? Not hardworking enough? Not willing to risk everything?”

The assassin smiled calmly, his tone serene:

“That exiled young master—Federico—tried to tell me: We are not standing high enough to see the big picture.”

Did Turnbull bring about his own downfall? It's because he didn't stand tall enough, had a narrow vision, and couldn't see the big picture.

The Blood Bottle Gang fell apart? That's because they weren't standing high enough, they were arrogant and completely unaware that they were caught up in a political game.

Was the end of Lobsang II tragic? It was because he didn't stand high enough, couldn't see through the illusions and understand the true nature of things early on, and blindly wielded his sword, only to realize too late that he was walking into a trap.

As for Emerald City, the reason it suffered this calamity was because, high above in the clouds, at a much higher altitude, everything was already predetermined.

"Is that why you wanted to come back?"

Belicia said coldly:
"You believed that young master's words, wanting to stand even higher this time, to kill people with your sword at the same level as the big shots, to prove yourself, and to seek justice?"

For a moment, Losang II's eyes were slightly unfocused.

Is it?

Does he really think that way?
He actually believed the young master's words, wanting to broaden his horizons, climb the tower of power, and see the scenery that he couldn't see or understand back then?
To make up for past shortcomings?

But this doubt only lasted a few seconds.

"Do not."

Soon, Lausanne II's gaze froze again.

"He was wrong too."

Lausanne II spoke coldly.

"Federico Kevindir forgot how his father and uncle died."

Belica frowned.

King Lausanne II's expression was complex.

He forgot the high esteem in which those of noble birth stood, yet they still brought about their own destruction—in whatever way.

And he couldn't see it either.

He could not see those who, in the heart of the kingdom, had stood taller than his forefathers in earlier times…

"That good-for-nothing young master's logic of 'failing because he didn't stand high enough' is like thinking that Turnbull's downfall was entirely due to his lack of intelligence, caution, and forbearance," King Lausanne II sneered. "And if he had done those things, he could have succeeded and avoided destruction..."

King Lausanne II sneered repeatedly.

Yes, after many years, he returned.

Following Federico's method, this time he stood higher, killed more people, swung his sword more precisely, stirred up more sandstorms, and left a thicker stain of blood...

however……

“But when I returned, I found that even after climbing that tower and standing at a new height,” Lausanne II said with a vacant look in his eyes, “nothing was different.”

They are still in this cage.

Can't get out.

Belicia was puzzled upon hearing this:

"What do you mean?"

King Lausanne II smiled, but did not answer the other party's question.

“I used to resent losing to Black Sword, but tell me,” the assassin narrowed his eyes, “how long can Black Sword last?”

Belicia's expression changed:
"what?"

"Since you've entrusted yourself to the Brotherhood and found him as your new backer," the assassin said softly, "what makes you think the Black Street Brotherhood won't repeat the mistakes of the Blood Bottle Gang? What makes you think Blacksword won't become the next Turnbull?"

Or, in a past unknown to them, countless exes had repeated Turnbull's fate.

And in the future they cannot see, countless others will follow in their footsteps.

"Believe me, even if that guy is stronger than me, more cunning than Bitenberg, even if he grows stronger with each legend of 'not dying,' even if he becomes stronger than the extreme, as long as he is still the boss of the Black Street Brotherhood..."

King Lausanne II appeared dazed.

"The Black Sword will eventually meet the same end as Turnbull, or even perish like him."

It's just a matter of form.

And the issue of time.

But as the other party said: in a storm where ships are destroyed and people are killed, does it make a difference whether you stand at the bow or at the bottom of the ship?
Belica looked grim.

"And similarly, Belicia, what can you do? Find the next patron? The next man? Even that big shot outside the door? Carefully flatter him, deliberately guide him, intentionally use him, and then, when he is destined to fall, deliberately betray him, repeating your fate once again, climbing higher and higher until you fail, or... your ideal ending? A mafia boss's wife? Or a queen?"

Belicia froze, her face expressionless.

"So yes, I no longer care, whether it's the truth of what happened back then, the shame of losing to Black Sword, or your betrayal."

The assassin stared blankly into the endless darkness above him.
"Because within this cage, these are all insignificant details, while the ending, and even the way everyone reaches the end, is already predetermined."

Belicia did not speak.

"This makes everyone's efforts seem like a futile struggle."

Losang II seemed to remember something and chuckled.

“Yes, I have been strong, I have stumbled, I have been resentful, I have been angry, and I have come back,” the assassin clenched his fist, “and even struggled once again.”

His gaze was fixed on the darkness:

"But all I discovered was my struggle, our struggle..."

No matter how beautiful the struggle may be...

They are still in the cage.

"Meaningless."

Like that Hundred-Step Wanderer at Beimen Bridge, that naive to the point of being stupid, stubborn to the point of being disgusting, a guy who would never live past twenty no matter where he was.

His struggle, his perseverance, his hard work...

Even if that guy actually managed to get rid of the drug lord Fesso, would things change?
Just as drug trafficking continued on Mount Faisal after Bot's death, everything outside North Gate Bridge was destined long ago; this place was bound to have a drug lord.

Just as a new duke succeeded to the throne after the old duke's death, everything in Emerald City was already destined: this city would always have a duke.

Killing Fesso wouldn't have made a difference...

Lausanne II's gaze gradually lost focus.

[Fisseau is not the key point.]

Lausanne II's breath hitched.

He'll fall sooner or later.

The faint, dying voice of the Hundred-Step Wanderer could be heard.

No.

Lausanne II's chest heaved.

This is……

The key point is that, over time, people started to believe it...

Outside the North Gate Bridge, the Hundred-Step Wanderer, covered in blood, leaned on his ridiculous greatsword, gritting his teeth and looking up at him.

In that instant, King Lausanne II was both shocked and furious.

The evil spirit murmured, "This damned power, why has it gone out of control again..."

He struggled to deflect the endless whispers of the Hundred-Step Ranger:

Therefore, everyone feared him.

Everyone is afraid...

Everyone's afraid...

Afraid……

No, assassin, you haven't grown up, you haven't...

You are just...

I became cowardly.

Do not!
King Lausanne II suddenly opened his eyes and gasped for breath!
It's that damn superpower again!

Damn!

Listen to me!
But this time he was wrong.

"You can be as self-righteous and sarcastic as you like, darling."

The assassin focused his gaze and was surprised to find that Belisia was completely unaffected.

"Anyway, you were like this back when we were still inseparable."

She sat in front of me, her eyes cold and her expression resolute.

Just now... that wasn't my superpower?

"But you don't know."

Belisia's breathing rose and fell, but he stared intently at his old acquaintance who was imprisoned.

“You have no idea how important what I did back then, that betrayal, that ‘meaningless struggle,’” she said through gritted teeth.

King Lausanne II was stunned.

Belicia paused, then suddenly smiled:

"Because no matter how powerful you are, whether you're at the ultimate level or not..."

She gave a faint, cold laugh:
"In the end, you're just someone who's stuck in the past, unable to move on, pathetic, pitiful, and even hateful to the point of being somewhat endearing, with a mind full of self-destructive tendencies, yet you're too afraid to admit your cowardice and fear..."

The woman's eyes were resolute:

"Just a useless servant."

The King of Lausanne II's expression changed.