Old Gods, Rapid-Fire Guns, and Prohibition

Chapter 346 [Off-screen]

If you look down on the southern district from the highest point in the sky, you will find that this area, which is usually the darkest part of the capital, has also become colorful.

Those were fireworks that appeared and disappeared intermittently, as if telling a story.

Old Man Xiwen was looking down at everything from the sky at that moment.

He naturally knew what story those fireworks were telling.

Currently, the story seems to be in his favor; he and they are the protagonists of this story.

Except for one place.

That was the direction Morren was primarily targeting.

As the one in control of the entire operation, he was naturally aware of all of this.

Molen was once his most promising young man, and he even considered actually passing the position to Molen.

However, Morren's performance time and time again has been truly disappointing.

Tonight was no exception.

Until that news came.

Johnny the Blackbird is in the direction of Morren.

This made even Old Man Xiwen restless.

He charged straight in that direction.

He was the first to arrive, but he didn't act immediately because he wanted to give his men a chance.

This can be considered giving Moran one last chance.

Molen already knew about the leak, but he no longer had the strength or energy to investigate the matter.

The most important thing now is that he must take down Johnny Blackbird before anyone else arrives.

Can you do it?

Molen was starting to lose confidence.

The main reason he felt hopeless was that the fearless trio on the other side; not only could he not defeat them, but his own life was also in danger.

If it weren't for the expensive level-three alchemical artifacts he was wearing, he would have been dead many times over.

"One more charge!"

He was still trying to rally his men.

But his men were already afraid.

Many people fell, but none of the other side died.

No chance.

Everyone seemed hesitant.

In that split second of hesitation, Johnny Blackbird had already pressed forward.

Before Morren could even make a move, a throwing knife shot straight at him, striking Johnny Blackbird in the left shoulder. The force of the impact sent him staggering backward.

Upon seeing the throwing knife, Morren's pupils contracted slightly.

"Moren, it's not a good habit to eat alone! Johnny Blackbird, everyone gets a share!"

Gareth the Clown, also an adopted son of Old Man Shewyn, has arrived.

This means...

“You’re right, Gareth, such glory shouldn’t be enjoyed by one person alone!”

On the other side, another adopted son, Iron Gloves Terry, also appeared.

Appearing with him was his fourth adopted son, the blind man Gil.

At this point, all four of Old Man Xiwen's adopted sons had arrived.

"Okay, if you want it, take it."

Seeing this, Morren simply took a step back and gestured as if he was giving up the position.

This greatly displeased Johnny Blackbird, who was involved: "Hey, don't talk like I'm your trophy. It's not certain who will capture whom yet."

He pulled the throwing knife from his shoulder and tossed it aside casually.

Krenzo and Aaron, who were also covered in wounds but had not fallen, stood beside him.

"Blackbird Johnny is mine!"

Gareth the Clown let out a strange cry and rushed over from the side.

"I want one too!" Iron Gloves Terry and Blind Gil acted almost simultaneously.

And their men, those borrowed from Sea King Lockeby, rushed forward almost simultaneously.

in all directions.

It's like a giant net.

Bird-catching nets.

When the net fell, Sea King Lockpy was getting ready to sleep.

He went to bed exceptionally early today because he had insomnia the past two days and needed to catch up on that sleep.

As for the heavy rain outside tonight, and the drama unfolding in the rain, he wasn't particularly concerned.

Because this wasn't his drama; he just happened to be involved.

It's not his business, and he's never really cared about it.

This is his philosophy: never concern yourself with things that don't concern you, and you'll live longer.

This is also the reason why he has been able to survive all these years.

Before going to bed, he first washed up and then drank a small cup of Tusni.

This is a liquor from the Old World, characterized by its strength and even toxicity. According to normal drinking guidelines, one must first hold a mouthful of salt in their mouth to counteract the poison before drinking this liquor.

But Lockerbie didn't need that. He was used to it. He had been drinking like this since he was a child. Drinking this kind of liquor was a reminder to himself not to forget who he was and not to be blinded by the seemingly peaceful life so as to forget his true goals.

What was Lockerbie's real goal?
To become a god.

Yes, it's an answer that sounds absolutely insane.

But after he learned the truth behind his real name when he was thirty-five, he set this as his ultimate goal.

So he wanted to live as long as possible, like an old dog.

He knew that he would only have a chance if he lived long enough.

Locke slowly drank the Tusni in his cup completely and let out a long sigh of relief.

Beside him, his trusted aide was reporting on all the arrangements made in the port area that day.

Most of the manpower from the Southwest was transferred to the Southern District to help, while the manpower from the Southeast remained unchanged, or even increased. In particular, the Gold Coast Tavern was staffed by a heavyweight figure, with three of Lockerbie's capable subordinates there, just to prevent that madman from the Church of the Sea God, Morris, from going crazy again.

"I see."

Lockeby nodded; it was all very standard procedure, nothing wrong with it.

It's time to sleep.

His men slowly retreated.

The lights in the room were also turned off.

Only the rain outside the window was hitting the glass.

This should be a perfect night for sleeping.

But some people don't plan to go to sleep on nights like this.

For example, Morris.

Morris was very restrained today; he seemed to have heeded Hagen's advice and stopped causing trouble.

He spent his days praying devoutly, eating very little food, and drinking clean water.

He suddenly felt as if he had returned to the ascetic he once was.

Even the people who had been monitoring him thought there was nothing wrong with him.

It was almost 10 p.m. when he still remained in the prayer room and did not come out. The people watching him were getting sleepy.

"Let's prepare to replace him. But it seems this guy knows what's important now. Starting tomorrow, maybe we can apply to stop monitoring him. After all, he's just a nouveau riche with no real background."

The people watching him were chatting.

But after waiting for a while, they still didn't see anyone come to relieve them.

Just as they were about to complain, the replacement finally arrived.

But soon, they no longer needed to change shifts, because they were completely dead.

Inside the prayer room, Maurice uttered a final hymn of praise, slowly rose to his feet, straightened his clothes, and revealed pure blue eyes, like the ocean.

He is ready.

(End of this chapter)