A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 212 The Gangster Adventurer and His Young Boyfriend (1)

Thursday, July 17th, foggy and rainy.

Seawell.

At noon, in the slums, the old wooden doors of the low-rise buildings were trampled and broken, and neighbors and passersby fled at the sound of the approaching police.

The humid air was thick with the bitter smell of medicine, and the medicine cabinets on the first floor clearly indicated that this was a pharmacy. If you went further in, through a hidden door concealed in the cabinets, you would find a basement room, where there was an operating table and an Olympus lamp, a rarity in Seaville. The old doctor was cornered by the window with nowhere to retreat, the nurse was weeping with her face covered, and the daughter was trembling.

Illegal clinics.

In Eswell, there are only three types of qualified medical institutions: first, welfare institutions run by churches, such as the 'Goddess Benevolent Hospital' of the Kamaithai Church; second, large hospitals with government licenses, whose investors are mostly pharmaceutical companies and high-ranking government officials, and whose fees are extremely high; and third, private clinics of famous doctors, which are mostly for the wealthy and powerful, and whose medical fees are calculated in gold pounds, making them inaccessible to ordinary people.

Unlicensed clinics, also known as "three-no" hospitals, are small clinics where doctors lack academic qualifications, the clinics do not pay taxes, and the drugs are not sourced through legitimate channels. These clinics mostly sell veterinary drugs, along with a small amount of painkillers and anti-inflammatory drugs imported from the black market, which are then diluted and administered intravenously. Although the efficacy is not guaranteed, their low price makes them more popular with the poor than large hospitals that can easily bankrupt them.

These illegal clinics severely hinder hospital operations and have always been a primary target for law enforcement. They are even more dangerous than brothels and casinos, and doctors arrested there often face severe penalties. This particular clinic has been operating in Westville for many years, clearly demonstrating its survival strategy.

The old doctor at this clinic is quite skilled, performing excellent surgeries. In a world where serious illnesses can only be treated with arcane magic and prayer, he can save lives with just one surgery. Therefore, he has a good reputation among gangsters and specializes in treating workplace injuries for his gang members. Over the years, he has managed to make a decent living.

However, that's all for today.

More than twenty men from the Western Continent with unfriendly expressions filled the basement. Their attire and the weapons they carried, such as machetes and longswords, gave a general idea of ​​their origins.

Disinfectants and surgical instruments were scattered on the floor. All drawers and cabinets, whether openable or not, were ransacked. The surgical lamp used for the operation was smashed and flickering. The old doctor knelt beside the operating table, repeatedly begging them to spare his family. The nurse and the young girl beside him were his wife and daughter. From their beautiful faces, it was clear that the old doctor had indeed made a lot of money over the years.

"You won't tell us where you hid the goods, and you don't want to pay us compensation, which puts us in a difficult position."

The speaker was a burly man standing two and a half meters tall, most notably for the pair of winding ram horns on the back of his head. He was a member of the Fengti tribe from the Western Continent, one of the most terrifyingly powerful races even among orcs. His name was Rex, and he was the "Double Flower Red Stick" of the Golden Wind.

Most gangs don't have very detailed hierarchical divisions among their members. They are either gangs like the White Bandits, where one leader leads a group of junior leaders who then develop their own downlines, or family-based gangs like the Razor Gang, where members are united by blood ties and marriage.

Unlike the Golden Wind gang, Ike established a strict corporate hierarchy, dividing members into bosses, vice-bosses, hall masters, red sticks, black fans, followers, and scoundrels. "Red sticks" were the strongest fighters in each of the Golden Wind's strongholds, with "double-flower red sticks" being even more prestigious. Although no one understood the meaning of this impressive-sounding title, Rex was widely recognized as the most capable red stick, stationed at the large casino and specializing in ruthless work.

The machete in Rex's hand was as small as a dagger. He grinned and stuck out his long, cow-tongue-like tongue, lightly licking the blade. The sight was terrifying. In front of him was a girl who looked like a chick. No one would doubt that the girl would be finely chopped into minced meat in the next second.

"Don't hurt my daughter, don't hurt my daughter—" The old doctor trembled as he tried to protect the girl, but the knife was gleaming brightly right in front of him, about to cut her in two. He was so frightened that he dared not move.

"Too much," he cried, his face contorted with despair. "I could never earn that much money in my entire life."

Rex grinned maliciously, drew his knife, and held it directly to the girl's snow-white neck.

The young and beautiful nurse screamed, and the girl tried to struggle but was held down by Rexxar as easily as crushing a chick.

"Give me some more time! Give me some more time, I'll definitely raise the money—" the old doctor wailed, clinging tightly to Rex's arm.

“Old Hunter,” Rex said, his hand still on the hilt of his knife, but his tone softening, “you’ve saved many of our men over the years. Even though they paid for their lives, we still remember your kindness. If your son hadn’t made such a big fuss, we wouldn’t have wanted things to get so ugly.”

“Yes, just two years ago, I was the one who set Master Webster’s leg. He calls me brother, there’s no need for us to go to such lengths!” Dr. Hunter first tried to curry favor, then swore to the heavens, “The sun is my witness! Give me some time, and I will definitely find that bastard.”

"We trusted you, which is why we let your son join Golden Wind and promoted him from a nobody to a member who can receive dividends in just one year. Isn't that all because of you?"

Rex's face turned cold, and an astonishing murderous aura emanated from his eyes. If it were a street fight, just that one look would be enough to frighten an ordinary thug into not daring to move.

"But how did Little Hunter repay our trust? We arranged for him to ship the goods, and then he vanished with the goods and payment. 800 gold pounds worth of goods and 800 gold pounds in payment—we won't even charge him for his service, but our boss was alerted. Shouldn't we get some compensation for his emotional distress?"

Dr. Hunter looked up shakily, his gaze passing over the towering man. Behind the wall of gangsters, he saw a black man in white slowly flipping through the accounts of the illegal clinic. When Dr. Hunter looked over, the black man gave him a friendly smile, as if to say, "You two talk, I won't disturb you."

Mr. Carpenter, the leader of Golden Wind.

Dr. Hunter's heart skipped a beat. What on earth had that brat stolen that had alerted him?!
Beside Ike Capone sat an unremarkable man. If Dr. Hunter hadn't looked over at him, he wouldn't have even noticed him. He had brown hair, fair skin, wore glasses, and looked like an ordinary man from the Southern Continent in his forties.

The newspaper he was flipping through was the Clock Tower, which to the average person would appear to be completely blank.

The headlines on July 17th, or rather, the headlines this month so far, have mostly been related to the British Civil War.

The war has begun. On the first day, the Kingdom's army and the rebels, whom the Kingdom's government called "traitors," fought on the outskirts of Lawrence Province. The battle ended quickly, and as everyone expected, the Kingdom's army achieved an almost overwhelming victory, defeating the allied forces of mercenaries, Grand Duchy troops, and green recruits in less than an hour.

The rebel army, having dropped over three hundred corpses, quickly retreated back into the city. Once the city gates were closed, they relied on the mountainous terrain and fortifications to become like tortoises, leaving the royal army helpless for the time being. Britain had experienced political turmoil for over a decade, and the king's control over the vast territory was far less than before, especially in the border province of Lawrence. For sixteen years, the royalists and the Grand Duke of Lawrence had cultivated an impenetrable wall, well-prepared for war, building city walls as if to defend against demons, effectively preventing the royal army from achieving any victories for half a month.

However, the mystical world generally believes that this defensive strategy is not very useful. It only requires sending out a high-sequence superhuman or a few arcane mages who are well-versed in the arcane arts of war. The war in the Western Continent has already proven that ordinary fortifications are as fragile as paper in the face of absolute power.

In terms of the number of high-end combatants such as superhumans and arcane mages, the royalists and the royal government have an absolute numerical disparity. If the king launches a full-scale attack regardless of the consequences, the twelve cities of Lawrence Province will not last more than a week.

At such a critical moment, the position of the Eternal Church becomes particularly important.

The whole world is waiting to see the show. Anyone with eyes can see who the Eternal Church supports. But as the state religion of Britain, the Eternal Church is deeply rooted in the royal family. When a kingdom and a long-established power in the South Continent launch a full-scale counterattack, how much damage will it do to the Eternal Church?
Once the prophesied son, as foretold by the Dragon Lord, avenges his great grudge and kills his own uncle, how many intact churches will the Eternal Church have left in Britain?
Newspaper commentators believed that the Eternal Church would not openly rebel before the Prophet appeared, and the King did not want to break ties with them. The two sides would just wait and see where the war would go.

The Eternal Cult released a statement yesterday claiming that a "highly dangerous cultist" had been discovered in Lawrence territory. The Clock Tower newspaper's report was more detailed, publishing a photo of a person who had been killed and whose Abyssal transcendental characteristics were extracted, indicating that the youngest son of the Grand Duke Lawrence was an Abyssal transcendent.

The Church of God prioritizes the extermination of Abyss Transcendents above all else; this is a matter that all humanity must abide by as written in the Covenant of the Salvation. Therefore, the Eternal Church ordered the King to cease hostilities until the other Abyss Transcendents were captured.

This effectively legitimized the lockdown of Lawrence Province. After feigning death for several days, the Grand Duke of Lawrence issued a statement: he hadn't rebelled; he supported King Aaron and the Kingdom's government; he was willing to cooperate with the investigation; but the Eternal Church wanted to arrest cult members, so he had no choice but to cooperate with the church first.
In this way, if the Kingdom's army chooses to launch a direct attack, it will be unable to stand on legal and moral grounds. Britain has enjoyed a thousand years of peace, and the foundation of popular support is solid. Even when forcing teenagers to draw their swords caused widespread resentment, no rebellion occurred. However, if the king chooses to launch a direct attack, even if the Prophet's Son does not draw his sword, the Eternal Church will have a legitimate reason to lead tens of millions of ordinary believers to defect. At that time, the king will truly understand what it means to be in complete chaos.

The king was certainly unwilling to be dragged along by the Eternal Church. The other dukes and lords of Britain were observing the situation closely, and some were even itching to make a move. If they chose to join the rebels, the gap in the number of high-end combat forces would be quickly closed, and the battle lines that the royal army would have to face would become longer and longer.

King Aaron has visited the Holy Land of the Eternal Sect, "Dragon Tomb," twice, but has not seen the Eternal Lord. The reason is that he has caught a cold. One of the seven strongest priests in the world has contracted "a very serious pneumonia that can be transmitted to the king," so he will not be receiving guests for the time being.

The unremarkable-looking man flipped through the newspaper.

Besides the news about the British Civil War and the unprecedentedly popular contest for the brave, the newspaper also briefly reported on a story related to Eswell—the real culprit of the jewelry store robbery in March had been caught, and his identity turned out to be a hereditary viscount of Jengen and the former Minister of Foreign Affairs of Jengen.
This news story didn't take up much space, but it made it into the Clock Tower newspaper because the case was handled by the college's administration, and the two bumbling thieves' motive was to raise money to restore their homeland.
"There are indeed some highly skilled arcane mages in the Golden Wind."

One side was screaming and howling like pigs being slaughtered, while the other side was chatting peacefully. The man said in a hoarse voice, "The memories you've altered have taken effect temporarily, but this can't fool the academy. It's only because Ankuya is in charge of the case that he can help cover things up and buy us some more time."

“Mr. Ike, you need to understand that the academy doesn’t want to catch the murderer, but the artificial circuit. You need to hand over the creator of the artificial circuit, otherwise when the higher-ups are dissatisfied with Ankuya’s speed of investigation and Dean Hermes comes to investigate personally, no one will be able to help you.”

He closed the newspaper and said calmly, "We're all doomed."

Ekko remained nonchalant and indifferent.

“Now that you’ve joined Golden Wind, you should call me Boss like everyone else. I’m not emphasizing any status, it’s just the rule of the underworld. If I called you ‘Mr. Quinn,’ wouldn’t that seem too formal?”

Apart from his height, the middle-aged man holding the newspaper bore no resemblance to Quinn, who had black hair and black eyes.

He spoke in a hoarse voice befitting his age: “Dear boss, please call me ‘Shelby.’ Assistant Grindelwald Quinn will not be violently collecting debts in the hospital with a bunch of thugs.”

"Ha, good, Shelby's makeup skills are perfect. I didn't know you had this skill."

"I'm talking about artificial circuits, not arcane ones. Don't tell me you don't know what that is."

Ike's smile faded, and after a moment of silence, he said, "Soon. There's something I absolutely must get in their hands. Once I have it, the Yangen government-in-exile and that mad arcanist can do whatever they want with me."

"thing?"

"In the underworld, you can't be too curious."

".Pretend I didn't ask."

"Heh." Ike patted Shelby on the shoulder and laughed heartily, "But you're one of us now, so feel free to ask whatever you want to know. Golden Wind is a warm and welcoming family."

As he spoke, Rex on the other end raised his knife, roaring in fury: "You think I'm joking?! I'm giving you one day. If your son doesn't bring the goods back, you'll bring back your wife and daughter's corpses—"

"Where is the warmth?" Quinn asked, barely able to contain himself.

"Hey, those are just a few extreme cases. Don't say things that could affect unity."

Ike leaned close to his ear and whispered, "I'm looking for it."

"The sacred artifact of the Fifth Hero, Jiangnan".

(End of this chapter)