Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 8 JC
Five hours ago.

Lobik Dila, 43, is a Level 1 Security Director under the City Defense Force, managing the West City Security Department, which is responsible for the security of the western part of Yongxing City.

Twenty security teams, a department of guards, and countless clerical staff were all at his disposal.

More than one hundred police officers equipped with sophisticated riot control equipment such as batons, mini crossbows, and ram shields; nearly three hundred highly qualified soldiers armed with anti-magic weapons such as the Meteor Sword, Arc Shield, Everlasting Armor, and Energy-Breaking Crossbows; and an elite security force with twenty genuine Terminator Swordsmen as security captains...

They obeyed only him.

This was quite rare for someone of low noble birth—Lobik's father was merely a minor lord in the western county of Keira.

If he hadn't climbed the social ladder by marrying into the Kevin Deer family, he wouldn't have been able to become the head of the Western City Guard in the capital at such a young age.

There was only one minor flaw in this wonderful relationship in which he pledged allegiance to the Kevin Deer family and was rewarded with an official position.

That is, the area he was in charge of in Yongxing City.

West Ring District and Xiacheng District.

Yes, it's the front line of the bloody battle between the Blood Bottle Gang and the Black Street Brotherhood.

A minor flaw.

a fly in the ointment?

Nonsence!

By the King, this is absolutely terrible luck!

This was the advice his gray-haired predecessor gave him during the handover:
"You must instruct your men carefully, even when leading the team from the barracks, through the West Ring District and the Lower City, towards the West Gate..."

Yes, his predecessor believed that the only thing the security team that managed the entire West City needed to do was to send guards and patrol teams to the West City Gate every morning to change shifts.

"You must pay attention—"

"For the sake of your money, be polite and friendly when passing through the three districts of Sai Wan;"

"For your own safety, be extremely cautious and proceed with extreme care when passing through the Lower City District 3."

"For the sake of your position, when you arrive at the West Gate, be diligent and energetic!"

Lobik quickly figured out why.

The Blood Bottle Gang, deeply rooted in the three districts of Sai Wan, is a large and long-established organization with unclear relationships with many important figures in the government. However, they regularly pay a considerable amount of "contributions" to the city defense team. Therefore, for the sake of their wallets, when passing through the Sai Wan district, police and civilians should maintain a friendly and harmonious relationship, and turn a blind eye to any problems.

The Black Street Brotherhood, which occupies the three districts of the Lower City, is ruthless, vicious, and violent. Half of the unsolved criminal cases in the capital are related to them. They are also ruthless towards the authorities when necessary. So, for your own safety, when passing through the Lower City, keep your eyes and ears open and keep running without stopping for too long.

As for the West Gate, it is the face of Yongxing City to the outside world, and it is the only gate through which many foreign dignitaries, nobles of all ranks, officials of the Temple of Gods, and adventurers from all walks of life visit Yongxing City. Many diplomatic disputes, noble struggles, religious conflicts, and civil conflicts take place in this area, which is also the place that the court officials keep the closest attention to. Therefore, for the sake of the position, when guarding the West Gate and patrolling for law enforcement, one must be fair, strict, diligent, dedicated, and selfless in serving the people.

In conclusion, it's understandable that in the three years since Director Lobik took over the Guard Bureau, half of his hair has turned white, three more wrinkles have appeared, and his wife often protests by giving him the silent treatment in bed because of his irregular home hours.

At this moment, Robick sat at his desk, looking at the moonlight outside the window, his face full of worry.

He didn't want to work overtime either—but a big shot had given him instructions tonight, so he had no choice but to work overtime.

and also.

His worry wasn't about the job, but about the clueless young man working for him.

Cohen Karabyan.

Cohen, 22, was a newly promoted second-level guard and third sheriff two months ago.

With skills that surpass even those of a swordsman (it would be even better if he could defeat that freak Miranda—Cohen), an unbelievably noble birth ("Hey old man, it would be even better if you were the king, then I could be a prince—Ouch, old man, why did you hit me!"—Cohen), and military experience rarely seen among young nobles, Cohen unsurprisingly became the top ace of the West City Police Department after his discharge ("You old bastard! I clearly didn't sign anything, how did I get 'discharged'? It must be because you shamelessly—Ouch, why did you hit me again!"—Cohen).

At this moment, Cohen was wearing a neat and dignified police officer's cap, with a few strands of handsome blond hair peeking out from behind the brim. His well-tailored blue uniform accentuated his strong yet well-proportioned physique, and he wore jet-black military boots that did not reflect any luster. Combined with his resolute and heroic face, he was undoubtedly the "heartthrob" of the capital.

It's a pity. If I were twenty years younger and transferred to Yongxing City earlier, I would probably be someone that would make the noble girls in the capital scream—of course, this was just a daydream when Director Lobik was lost in thought.

Because the young and handsome "heartthrob" Cohen was now speaking righteously and eloquently, firmly explaining his views to Director Robick.

"My lord, based on the above, I believe it is absolutely inappropriate to completely eliminate the garrison forces in Red Town Street!"

The young guard patted his chest firmly, as if to let his superior know his resolve:

"Especially tonight! A violent clash is highly likely to break out between the Blood Bottle Gang and the Black Street Brotherhood! Also, I received intelligence from my men that the Black Street Brotherhood is in front of their headquarters..."

"You have informants in the underworld?" Director Lobik's interest was piqued by this question. He yawned and interrupted the guard.

“Ha, it’s true that it’s hard to plant spies among those brooding fraternity lunatics,” Cohen scratched his head sheepishly, a smirk playing on his lips, “but with my shrewd and capable…”

"Idiot! You're asking for it!"

Director Robick's sudden roar caused quite a stir, startling the secretary, the beautiful red-haired Miss Jorah, who had just passed by the door carrying documents, so much that she slipped and fell.

"You think that just because you ranked third in the Tower of the End's year-end assessment, the Brotherhood can't touch you? You think that just because you're from the Kalabyan family, the Blood Vial Gang won't dare to mess with you? Most importantly! You think—"

The furious Director Robick's voice rose higher and higher, leaving the usually eloquent Cohen stunned.

"—Just because you're more handsome than me, you think you can boss your boss around?"

Outside the door, Miss Jora, who was picking up documents from the ground, suddenly shattered her hand, scattering the documents she had already gathered all over the floor.

Cohen was taken aback, silently looking down at the back of his head in confusion:

"Uh, Director, we've gone a bit off-topic. Although I'm handsome, what about the Black Street Brotherhood..."

"Shut up! You idiot!"

Enraged, Lobik suddenly realized that there was a reason why his old classmate's son was beaten by his father every day.

Lobik took a breath and said slowly, "I know how you feel. I was young and passionate once too."

The director looked out the window and sighed softly.

“When I was transferred here three years ago, I also thought that one day I would clean up all the evil and darkness in Xiacheng District and Xihuan District, so that citizens could walk on the streets with peace of mind and without fear.”

But Lobik changed the subject:
"But do you really think that the Blood Bottle Gang and the Black Street Brotherhood are just low-level gangs? You think that I can wipe them out in one fell swoop by sending twenty Terminator Swordsmen who can take on a hundred men each, plus four hundred security troops and even patrol soldiers?"

Cohen's mouth dropped open.

But before he could reply, the director snorted coldly:
"The Blood Bottle Gang has two terrifying magic masters as leaders, eight superhuman warriors, and the most recent twelve strongest. The Brotherhood has three or four terrifying assassins, six giants, and thirteen younger generals. Do you know how many super-level or even extreme level guys are among these people? What if one of the troublesome ones gets away?"

Cohen blinked, puzzled.

Lobik looked furious, and he spoke faster and faster:
"And then there are their henchmen, thieves, wanderers, and adventurers, whose influence extends throughout the kingdom and reaches the western continent; their pervasive intelligence network, their deeply entrenched social network, their substantial commercial network, their vested interests, and their crucial secret networks—do you think they're all pushovers? Do you think this is a war against the Bone People and the Beastmen on the western front? Do you think my police officers and city defense soldiers are suicide squads without families, children, social connections, or burdens, ready to risk their lives for you just by raising your voice?"

Cohen was taken aback again.

"Even if the two major gangs are wiped out, what will happen to the secrets of the nobles associated with them? What will happen to the government departments that rely on their threats for survival and their funding? What will happen to the annual tributes they give to the important figures in the court? What will happen to the poor, rioters, and unemployed who have lost their livelihoods without the gangs' restraint and protection? What will happen to people who no longer go to the temple to pray and donate without the gangs' oppression? What will happen to the rare medicines and strategic materials that can only be smuggled in through the gangs, which are no longer available in the city's medicine, alchemy, and agricultural markets without the bloodshed caused by the gangs? What will happen to the adventurers, mercenaries, and superpowered warriors who are restless and have lost their livelihoods? What will happen to the Kingdom's Secret Service's ability to keep track of foreign spies' underground operations without the overt and covert cooperation and coordination between the local gangs and us?"

After roaring all at once, Robick was so exhausted that he had to catch his breath for several seconds.

Have you thought about all these miscellaneous and unavoidable things?

The director crossed his arms, which made him appear even more authoritative.
"You think I cleared Red Street tonight for no reason? That's right, I'm telling you, it's because some big shot directly told me that tonight it will become the bloodiest battlefield! Anyone who gets close will suffer a terrible fate! So not only do I have to clear it out, but I also have to put up curfew notices and warn everyone not to go near it! You think we're working overtime today? It's so that by morning, our people can join forces with the city hall's medical, fire, and land administration departments to collect the bodies of the war's losers and clean up the ruins left by the war!"

Lobik stopped roaring, panting, and ripped open his collar, which was making it hard for him to breathe.

Cohen remained silent.

His fists slowly tightened at his sides.

“Now, Captain Cohen Karabyan, the promising vigilant officer,” Lobik paused, then spoke in a normal tone:
"You can leave now. Reflect on why your father introduced you to the most difficult place to stay in the entire Star Kingdom and the entire Western Continent: the Guard Center. Also, remember to pick up that pile of documents for Miss Jora outside the door; it's all your fault."

The door opened, and Cohen walked out slowly.

But his eyes dimmed, filled with loneliness and helplessness.

Miss Jorah, who was picking up documents nearby, felt very sorry for her.

I know all of this—all of what Director Lobik said.

Cohen thought to himself.

He reached out to the sword rack outside the hall, wanting to retrieve his sword.

However, if even the youngest police chief is so mature and shrewd, if even the bloodsucking gangs hiding in the underworld dare not confront him directly.

So how else can this kingdom be changed?

Cohen slowly lowered his hand.

He walked up to Miss Jorah, who was squatting down to tidy up her documents.

The secretary sensed Cohen's approach and blushed instantly, wondering how to thank him for his help.

Is it passionate?
Cohen smiled bitterly to himself.

When I crawled out of the piles of dead bodies on the Western Front, that word no longer belonged to me.

This isn't about passion.

Cohen lowered his head, clenched his fists, and a look of determination and anger flashed in his dejected eyes.

This is simply... the right thing to do.

It is something that must be done.

Miss Jorah blushed even more.

She suddenly realized that from Cohen's perspective, he could see the breathtaking scenery inside her uniform, comparable to the Sighing Mountains, and—and this is important, I have to say it three times—he's handsome, he's handsome, he's really handsome!

Hongfang Street.

Cohen pondered, slowly narrowing his eyes.

The next moment, his expression turned icy cold, and his right fist suddenly flipped, as if a gust of wind had swept in front of the director's office!
"call!"

When the storm subsided, Cohen was gone.

His sword, which had been on the sword rack, also disappeared.

Miss Jorah was left with nothing but gritted teeth, tearing at her long red hair that had been disheveled by the wind.

Beside her, the scattered pile of documents had been neatly stacked and stood upright on the ground, though it was unclear when.

In the director's office, Lobik closed his eyes helplessly and sighed.

Compared to Red Town Street...

That important person had an even more troublesome request of him.

Investigate from the Sunset devotees entering and leaving the West Gate to find out exactly why the Sunset Temple sealed off its inner altar.

"Those religious lunatics," Lobik shook his head. "How could I dare to provoke anything related to divine pronouncements?"
Especially that shrew, the Sunset Goddess.

bah bah bah!
Lobik shook his head, banishing the thought from his mind. Six hundred years ago, just having this thought would have been enough to land him in the Tribunal by the priests of the Sunset Goddess's temple, wouldn't it?
So it seems that although the two magic queens were also bad-tempered shrewish women, they did do some good things after all.

bah bah bah!
Lobik shook his head, banishing the idea from his mind as well.

No, the consequences of this idea are even worse than the previous one.

-------------------

Time returns to the present.

"You said you...you killed Quaid?"

Yara stared at Thales in shock, as if she were seeing him for the first time.

“Yes,” Thales replied with utmost calmness.

He took a deep breath and made a seemingly outrageous suggestion to the beautiful yet dangerous young woman:

"Furthermore, please help the four of us escape from the Lower City District 3."

Yara's eyes widened as if she had seen something extraordinary.

But Thales knew he wasn't taking a chance.

During the four years he begged in the abandoned house, his world was not entirely dark.

Aside from the few beggar children who shared their pharmacy journey, Jenny, the helper at Grove Pharmacy, and the seemingly unapproachable female bartender in front of him—is she really just a bartender?—are among the few warm-hearted people Thales has found in this world.

Three years ago, if it weren't for her, she would have been killed by Morris's angry wolfhound in the garbage dump in the back alley of Sunset Bar.

It is said that Morris—a bigwig in the Black Street Brotherhood—muttered for a long time afterward, wondering how his Angry Wolfhound, which he had raised for six years, could not be tamed and had actually run away and disappeared.

"You, say that again?"

Yara realized what she was hearing, as if she had heard the most unbelievable things, such as demons from hell returning to earth or gods descending to earth.

"I mean, I'd like to ask you..."

But Yara interrupted him.

“You have just killed Quaid Rhoda, the only son of arms dealer ‘Ironheart’ Sandara Rhoda, the head of the Black Street Brotherhood, the most fearsome force in the Star Kingdom’s underworld and the leader of the beggar business in Everstar City.”

Yara finished speaking in one breath with a livid face, then stretched out her slender index finger and poked Thales hard on the forehead.

"And then, you want me to protect you, to betray that 'most terrifying force in the Star Kingdom's underworld,' and to escape under the inevitable search and pursuit of the Black Street Brotherhood?"

"Uh, not quite accurate," Thales said with a forced smile, rubbing the finger mark on his forehead under Yara's murderous glare.
"But that's right."

"That's about it."

Awkward silence.

Yara listened to the news and took a long time to process it.

Although Thales was anxious, he waited quietly.

Yara snapped out of her daze and sighed.

But her expression quickly returned to its cold and indifferent state.

"Hmph, fight the entire Brotherhood for you? Do you think I'm that kind of good person? No, it should be, do you think I look like a good person?"

“You don’t need to run into the Brotherhood!” Thales said urgently.

“We have our own plan. All you need to do is give us some food and supplies, help us keep the Brotherhood in the dark, until we escape to Red Street! That’s easy for you!”

"Please!" Thales pleaded, "You're the only one we can rely on, Sister Yara!"

Even though he called her "sister," Yara didn't seem to accept it.

"Hmph, you're just a little beggar."

Yara sneered, "I'm at least a member of the Brotherhood, why do you think I won't immediately hand over you, the murderer with blood on your hands from the Brotherhood, and those accomplices?"

Thales paused for a moment, then lowered his head.

Yara turned her head away, waiting for his answer with a half-smile.

Until Thales raised his head again.

"Because I believe you."

Yara was stunned, not following Thales' logic.

"what?"

Thales said, slowly and deliberately, with unwavering determination:

"Because I believe you."

"I believe you are different!"

No... different?
Yara was stunned.

Did I get the wrong script?

How could he say such cheesy, saccharine things?

This kid, wasn't he always pretty mature?

And they're supposed to be a Brotherhood, people who've been through so much hardship, right? How come suddenly—have they been watching too many plays at the Temple of the Night lately? The story of the friendship between Hero Sara and Prophet Keppelin?
Or did Quaid damage his brain?

But Thales took a deep breath.

The beggar's next words left her speechless for a long time:

“I know that the Brotherhood is full of scum and villains, perverts with blood on their hands, wolves and demons in human skin. Compassion, kindness, conscience and pity are not even worth as much as the mud in the gutter to them.”

"They sold girls whose families had been destroyed to brothels, crippled desperate children, sold drugs to teenage girls, extorted hardworking merchants until they were penniless, drove farmers who had sold their children due to natural disasters to starve to death, captured those who couldn't repay their debts and sold them as slaves in the desert, and shared the ugliest and most despicable secrets with corrupt nobles."

"But I also know that many of them are forced by the need to make a living, they are all forced into it, they have been influenced by it since childhood, they are all trapped in it and cannot extricate themselves, they are all doing it for survival, they all have the reason of 'I have no choice but to do it,' which is why they have become the most vicious henchmen and the most ruthless thugs of the Brotherhood."

"But that's precisely why I feel that if, in such an environment and under such circumstances, beyond survival, one can still hold on to a little compassion, a little pity, a little kindness, a little conscience, and persist in doing good deeds, being a good person, being able to give up the idea of ​​making dirty money or quick money with one's knife skills, being able to give even the most destitute drunkard a free glass of ale, being able to give a cloak to a beaten-up person..."

At this point, Telston paused for a moment:
Yara frowned deeply.

She didn't realize that she was biting her lower lip.

"In the freezing cold of a garbage dump, to save the life of a complete stranger, he didn't hesitate to kill the fraternity leader's beloved dog, and for the next four years, he continued to help, support, and care for him..."

At this point, Thales looked up at Yara, his eyes filled with sincerity and hope:

"To be able to do these things, I think, is much more difficult, more dangerous, and more..." than being a purely evil person in the fraternity, someone who abandons creed and conscience, someone utterly wicked, someone who enjoys being a bad person every day.

"Stop!" Yara raised her head unwillingly, her eyes red. "Kid, you're nobody to me, how dare you..."

But Thales interrupted her without a second thought.

"Yalls Rilton!"

Upon hearing the name, the female bartender was slightly taken aback.

Thales took a deep breath:

"I've seen your swordsmanship, cleaving a dog into three pieces with a single stroke. I've also seen you cut off the fingers of troublemakers. I know the patrons at Sunset Bar are all afraid of you. I know even Quaid and Rick, and even Boss Morris, treat you with utmost respect."

“I don’t know the significance of the Surridon surname in the Brotherhood, but I imagine you’ve probably had blood on your hands, even murdered countless people. Perhaps your family and those around you are all members of the Brotherhood, and perhaps your parents and brothers are all criminals.”

Yara did not interrupt him, but instead fell into a deathly silence with a forlorn expression.

"So, actually I don't know if you're a good person or not."

Thales silently pulled out a dagger.

Yara's gaze froze in mid-air.

"But this dagger, I stole it from your bar."

Thales slowly raised the dagger:

“I know. All I did that day was say to you, ‘I don’t have a knife, how could I possibly chop firewood?’ And then that afternoon, this dagger appeared on its own in the most conspicuous spot in the storeroom.”

Yara slowly frowned.

Thales tried to force a smile:
"I've always known that."

"I always thought this dagger was left behind by someone else, maybe Edmund, but only today, the word 'JC' has appeared on the blade of this blood-stained dagger."

"And it wasn't until today that I heard your full name from the drunken Quaid."

Thales raised his head and looked directly at Yara, the faint starlight in his eyes making her heart tremble.

"Maybe that's your initials, JC."

“YaLS Ridon”.

Yara gritted her teeth.

Looking at the dagger, her fists began to tremble slightly.

She didn't even notice why a beggar who had never had the chance to read and write could read the letters on the dagger and spell out her name.

“Alysse Lyton, Miss JC, I want you to know, I must let you know.”

I paused for a moment.

"The dagger you gave me today saved my life."

"You also saved the lives of those three children over there, the three who thought even ordinary white bread was a royal feast."

Yara clenched her fists tighter and tighter, her eyes gradually focusing.

That wretched brat.

"So, although I don't know what you were like before, or what you will be like in the future, I always feel, I always feel..."

Thales forced a pale, fragile smile and looked directly into Yara's eyes:
"You still want..."

"Be a good person."

"JC!"

(End of this chapter)