A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 214 The Gangster Adventurer and His Young Boyfriend (3)

Ankuya sat on a high stool at the tavern counter, with a plate of fried beans on the table in front of him, which was the old lady Servi's specialty.

After being loudly reprimanded by his boss, Ankuya's face turned sour, like a high school student being scolded by his parents for not going to a bar. He had a sense of helplessness about why he came home early in the morning and was covered in cigarette smoke. In reality, he had spent the whole night playing Genshin Impact at an internet cafe. He was a pure and innocent anime fan who didn't mess around.

"Selvi, if you don't want your eyes, you can gouge them out."

Normally, Aqua wouldn't react to such unfounded slander. This guy is like a rock; he'd think, "If you're talking nonsense, then you're a moron." Saying even one more word to a moron is a waste of life.

But for some reason, Ankua's reaction this time was unusually strong. He even stopped eating the beans, rested his chin on his hands, sneered, and went all out—

"Ha, sixty years old, never married, no children, undocumented, all he does every day is drink heavily on this broken recliner, waiting for his eighty-year-old mother to serve him food and drink, he's never washed his own underwear, and when he gets angry he starts 'reminiscing about the old days,' even the prostitutes in Seaville would pinch their noses and shoo away when they see you, and you're lecturing me?"

"Cough," Selvi coughed, covering his mouth.

"You mean, I'm having impure thoughts about a nun from the Vatican? Ha, marry her and listen to her praise the sun, is that it?"

"cough, cough"

"You think I'm like you, only bothering to groom myself a little when Ms. Angela is here?" Ankua spoke faster and faster. "I've been planning to quit smoking for a long time. What does it have to do with Pepe? Smoking damages my nerves and makes it impossible for me to focus on magic."

"Cough, cough! Cough!!"

"You have lung cancer?"

The boss shrugged and gestured for Ankuya to look behind him.

Ankua turned his head and saw a customer, then snorted coldly, "We're not open for business right now."

It took him about a second to recognize that this was Quinn in disguise, and his face turned even uglier.

"You have cancer too? Couldn't you have said anything before coming in?"

Quinn was in a difficult position.

"You know, buddy, I recently reached Sequence Seven, so I walk without making a sound."

Ankuya ate the fried beans, holding the fork like he was chopping meat with a bayonet.

"Where's Pepe?" Quinn looked around, deliberately bringing up the very thing he didn't want to talk about.

"I work at the post office and don't get home until late at night."

The boss paused, then looked at Ankuya, who was silently eating, and said meaningfully, "Kid, you went to pick her up again tonight? Hey~"

Even with Quinn's terrifying eyesight at this moment, he couldn't see when the boss raised his hand.

But he saw Ankua throw the fork at the boss like a dart at a target, and just before the fork was about to pierce his eye, the boss smiled and caught the fork between two fingers.

Quinn was secretly startled. Just what sequence was Selvi?
Even Ankuya can't find him now.
But the owner had already noticed him from across the entire bar and stopped scolding Ankuya.

Unfortunately, the boss's cool demeanor only lasted three seconds.

Although the fork managed to catch it, the sticky fried beans on it couldn't be stopped and smeared all over the shop owner's face with the force of the impact. The owner, while pulling out a tissue, muttered, "You brat, you have no respect for your elders at all!"

"I'm not going to pick her up, you are?"

"Haha, just in case!" The boss chuckled dryly. "Just go, don't worry about it. I know you've never been into women, I'm just reminding you to be mindful of the general direction when interacting with the opposite sex—"

Ankua wanted to smash all the plates, but then decided against it; the beans in the plates were made by the old lady, and he couldn't waste them.

Quinn leaned closer, looking on with a gossipy expression: "Aqua, what happened?"

Ankuya ignored him and looked at the boss, who also looked hesitant.

"Misunderstanding, haha, misunderstanding. Just a little misunderstanding, don't ask too much. What brings you here today?" The boss slapped his forehead. "Oh, Thursday. You've advanced too fast, kid. There are no more superhumans in this city worth sparring with."

Quinn crossed his arms.

"Boss, I'm not going to go to some wilderness in the Western Continent, or some Hengduan Mountains, or some dungeon to hone my skills. I have to go to work, and this is the only day I can take off each week."

The boss scrutinized him for a moment, then turned around, opened a bottle of wine for himself, lay back down in his usual relaxed, nonchalant tone, and reverted to his usual lazy, indifferent manner.

How do you view your own 'skills'?

Quinn knew what the boss was asking.

Quinn was increasingly suspicious of the strange fighting instinct within him, wondering if this was the fourth system the Demon King had given him.

“Let me give you an example,” Quinn answered carefully. “Like when I ask you one plus one, you don’t need to think to know it equals two, and nine multiplied by nine doesn’t need to think to know it equals eighty-one.”

"Nine times nine, no need to think?" the owner of the Nine Leaks Fish shop in the other world asked in shock.

"That's not the point. What I'm trying to say is that, just like calculations, I don't need to think too much about combat; my body just naturally knows what to do."

Quinn paused for a moment: "But my problem now is that I don't know where my limits are. It's like someone who can arrive at a mathematical answer but doesn't know the solution process. So he won't know if the answer he instinctively arrives at is correct. If I encounter a super expert one day, I think I'm doomed."

The boss glanced at him, then raised his glass and took a big gulp of wine.

"You don't need to find anyone to spar with anymore."

"why?"

"It's meaningless. Your skills are useless to you. What you can beat is of no benefit to you, and what you can't beat, you definitely can't beat. That might be a bit abstract, but if you ever reach the level of me or Lao Gu, then you can try it with us."

He downed the entire bottle of vodka in one gulp, as if rinsing his mouth with water. "However, both sides must be prepared for death."

Quinn remembered what the one-armed old man had said as he left—

'I don't need supernatural power, I only rely on pure swordsmanship.'

"You should understand now that skill doesn't necessarily guarantee your survival." The boss gave an example: "You may be very good at using your katana, but if you can't cut through a knight's defenses, disrupt a warrior's offensive rhythm, find a ninja's true form, get kited by an archer, be cursed to death by a secret envoy, or if your opponent is several ranks higher than you and simply overwhelms you in terms of mystical power, one glare from them and you're dead. Skill doesn't have much use in the face of mystery."

“I understand.” Quinn thought of the merchant Jack, the silver dragon that had scared him unconscious, and the giant serpent in the dean’s dream.
If Quinn had to choose between Sequence and Skill, he would definitely choose Sequence. The further you progress in the Extraordinary Path, the more powerful you become, which is why there are many extraordinary individuals among human heroes throughout history who had no prior experience but still shone brightly in the war against demons.

"But," the boss said with a nostalgic expression, "back in the day..."

“You’re reminiscing about the old days again,” Ankuya retorted directly.

"Tsk, without swordsmanship, this old man would have died in the wizard's workshop long ago. Skills honed in the face of life and death are things whose usefulness you only truly know when you're actually in a life-or-death situation."

"—And you."

He raised his hand and pointed at Quinn.

“You haven’t experienced any life-or-death situations, yet you’ve already reached a high level in your skills.” He shook his head, his expression a mix of envy and complex emotion. “In this world, very few people can reach this level. They are not people you can afford to mess with right now.” “So I suggest you study the heroes of the past to broaden your experience, instead of focusing on opponents you can beat up.”

"A legendary hero?" Quinn looked at Ankuya beside him, who was also listening intently.

Do you know why it's so hard to guess a hero's class?

What is the reason for the hero's destiny?

At only Sequence 8, Sekiro has already demonstrated a physical amplification that can be described as monstrous. Apart from lacking some extraordinary means and not having acquired much knowledge, he is almost omnipotent.

Quinn shook his head silently, wanting to hear his boss's opinion.

"Because they are people who have honed their skills to the pinnacle." The shopkeeper said calmly, "The greatest truths are the simplest. Ordinary people cannot look up to the supreme beings, nor can they truly see their skills. Have you read the biography of Link, the first hero?"

"I've read two of them. Are you referring to his adventure stories?"

The books available in bookstores are geared towards general readers. The cult and the government have removed all content related to the supernatural and mysterious, and the parts involving combat are extremely simplified. They read more like a road trip story in an isekai (another world) where you pick up one beautiful girl after another along the way.
What do you think has in common among all his adventure stories?

Quinn lowered his head in thought, his eyes gradually becoming serious.

"This guy has never lost."

"Link has only lost one match in his entire life, and that was when he first encountered the Demon King. But his skill still allowed him to escape alive from Gungnir's spear."

Ignoring the bewildered Quinn, the shopkeeper cracked open the second bottle of vodka with his teeth and said before taking a sip, "The mistakes Link has made in his life are all due to his unfamiliarity with the mystical. That's why he has to experience all sorts of bizarre and strange things. After traveling the world, he has become so powerful that he can even kill the Demon King."

"Almost all heroes are like that, ugh."

He took a big gulp and continued, "If you don't want to go too far out of town, look for some interesting quests in the Adventurers' Guild. If you can't handle them, come find me."

"Cases like ghost stories, livestock disease investigations, mysterious deaths, or cases that drive people insane—those seemingly simple, well-paid but unfinished tasks—may all be related to the mysterious. Why don't you use your current appearance to create a new identity?"

Quinn seemed to be deep in thought.

One of the potion ingredients for Haunted Sequence Six, the spirit of an ancient dead vengeful spirit, can it also be found from the Adventurers' Guild?
"Boss, you know heroes very well."

"Don't let my appearance fool you," the shopkeeper said nostalgically. "Back in my youth, when I was practicing swordsmanship until I could barely lift it, my mother would tell me stories about Link, and time would fly by without me even realizing it."

"Do you know Jiangnan, the Fifth Hero?" Quinn suddenly asked.

"Ha, everyone in Yangen knows him. Just like everyone in Aiswell knows Merlin, what's wrong with that?"

"It is said that a sacred artifact was left in the dungeon where the Demon King was killed in Jiangnan?" Quinn observed his boss's expression.

When Jengen fell, Seville was already in his prime. Given his abilities, it's possible he had some contact with the Jengen royal family back then.

Seville remained silent for a while, then downed the second bottle of vodka in one gulp, letting out a long sigh of relief before remarking, "Haha, has this already reached your ears?"

So, is it true or false?

“That’s not some kind of sacred artifact. Or rather, it used to be.” The bartender glanced at the British news on the newspaper behind the bar and casually said, “Things like that broken sword, Merlin’s wand, or even the half-fox left by the ancestors of the Eastern Kingdom, if used properly, could kill the Demon King again without any problem.”

"Why do you say that?" Quinn was secretly delighted. "Have you seen it before?"

Ike really got a great deal.

If that black guy weren't a hero, Quinn would definitely use him as a tool to kill him when the opportunity arose. He would also take advantage of the situation to steal his fellow villager's belongings and sell the academy's contraband. Although he and Hermes have developed some kind of understanding now, he is still a potential threat.

The boss didn't answer whether he had seen it or not, but instead said:

"That's not a weapon. It was just a backup plan that Jiang Nan prepared for himself during his final battle with the Demon King."

"A backup plan?"

“‘The Demon King Kadius killed the hero, and the hero, blessed by death, was resurrected from the grave.’” The boss finished reading this passage in a witch-like tone, and then lazily commented, “I don’t know if this legend is true or not, after all, very few people survived after witnessing that battle.”

"That so-called sacred artifact is a coffin. According to legend, as long as Jiangnan's soul does not perish, he can be resurrected from inside. Ha."

The boss smiled with a complicated expression.

"But that's impossible. No hero can be resurrected."

As if affirming, and even more so with a sigh, he repeated "no," sealing the fate of the heroes.

"Now it's just an ordinary coffin; it can't revive the hero, nor can it revive anyone else."

"How can you be so sure?" Quinn asked in surprise.

"Because I lain in there." The shopkeeper started reminiscing again: "Back then, even the King of Yengen addressed me as 'Knight'—"

Quinn agreed.

If it were truly a powerful sacred artifact, it would never have fallen into the hands of the exiled government; it would have been taken away long ago by the Empire, the Cult, or some high-ranking noble family in the Southern Continent.

Ankuya finally finished eating the fried beans.

"Come with me, let's go to Sweeper Alley and get your knife."

It was nearing nightfall.

The majestic white Kavada rhinoceros pulled the gangster godfather's car, a rare sight indeed, as it drove out of Seaville and arrived at the highest point of Eswell, on that winding lakeside path.

As dusk fell and the light of the lamps shone through the drizzling rain, the gates of Branson Manor opened to Ike.

Smooth ride.

After two weeks of contact, overtures, attempts to distance themselves, and statements, the leader of Golden Wind finally got a chance to meet with the congressman.

But he showed no joy in the car; instead, he looked irritable.

He was talking to himself—

"It's been all afternoon, and we still haven't caught Little Hunter."

"If he was truly obsessed with money and that's why he stole the goods, that would actually be a good thing. My current fear is that things aren't so simple, or that he's leaked the information."

"Of course you're not in a hurry. You're not the boss. You just need to watch and occasionally make a sarcastic remark. I have a lot to think about."

"No matter how diluted, it's still starlight, an artificial circuit rejection agent—from now on, the starlight for the gentlemen to inhale will have to be transported by special personnel. If the academy finds out I'm selling starlight in the city..."

"Hey, just thinking about it is exciting."

(End of this chapter)