Mystery: The Last Shepherd

Chapter 454 Raid
It's not a very strong extraordinary trait; at most, it's Sequence 8.

Lu Ze was eating breakfast when he glanced at the man.

He was a middle-aged man with a runic appearance and an anchor tattoo on his thick arm. He looked dejected, unshaven, and numb. He barely ate the breakfast that was served, only tilting his head back to drink strong liquor.

He's clearly an extraordinary person, yet he's doing so poorly?

Lu Ze had some doubts, but he didn't show them. He finished his breakfast, got up, and left the restaurant. The old man, however, was absorbed in his alcohol and ignored him completely.

Stepping out of the hotel, Lu Ze stood on the bustling street.

This is the most bustling area of ​​Stocate Island. Further ahead are the Moulin Rouge, casinos, and bars, but these shops are not yet open in the morning.

He observed people carefully.

People on the street clearly wore different expressions depending on their race.

Those with pure Rune features were naturally the most relaxed and at ease. They strolled leisurely down the street, acting as if they owned the place.

The locals, on the other hand, appear humble, often resembling servants who fawn over the Ruen people. However, when they see their fellow countrymen begging or doing hard labor, they display an arrogant demeanor, scolding and driving them away.

The lowest of the low were the local people who had no owners. They either pulled carts loaded with goods like livestock, or did various jobs with their heads down, or begged along the streets.

The further you go into the more remote neighborhoods, the more obvious this phenomenon becomes.

A family of more than ten people were crammed into a dilapidated house, children ran around naked on the dirt road, and old people dug the ground with hunched backs. They stared blankly at this world created by God.

The great development of the Ruen maritime industry, ironically, brought them more suffering.

Lu Ze looked intently into their eyes, where he saw numbness, weariness, and of course, hatred. Hatred was a good thing; hatred provided the drive for revenge and the impulse to change the status quo.

He didn't intend to recruit a group of ruthless pirates, but rather to recruit from these native inhabitants. They were easier to manage than the unscrupulous pirates and better suited his requirements.

Lu Ze's gaze swept over the group of people.
Suddenly, he abruptly turned his head to look at the other side of the island.

A strong spiritual fluctuation was detected over there.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

On the other side of the island, there is a two-story building belonging to the Adventurers' Mutual Aid Association.

"Jante, is the bounty ready?"

Anderson strode into the room and shouted loudly to the man with the wine-stained nose behind the bar.

"Keep your voice down, everyone's right here."

The other party grumbled in dissatisfaction, took out a briefcase, opened it on the bar, and it was full of banknotes. "Gilchias's bounty is 9500 pounds, and the other two guys together are 1500 pounds. Then, add the commission we collect, the cost of bribing the various levels of churches and civil servants, and in the end, we'll give you 8000 pounds."

"It's really dark."

Anderson said sincerely, pulling the box over from the table and glancing at the banknotes inside. The old-fashioned portraits of the king on the rows of banknotes looked remarkably welcoming.

"Hey, where's the rip-off? This price is everywhere! If we're being honest, our Adventurers' Mutual Aid Association is already the most conscientious one!" Jante complained.

"Alright, alright, we know how great you are now. Keep drinking your Leroyal."

Anderson roughly counted the banknotes, confirmed that there were no counterfeit bills and the amount matched, then closed the suitcase.

"Humph"

Jant finally shut up, huffing. He glanced at the box, then at Anderson, and couldn't help but ask, "Anderson, tell me the truth, who killed Gilchrist?"

"A demigod who doesn't want to reveal his name."

Anderson remained calm. "Actually, I was saved because of him. But he didn't want to show his face, so he had me do it in his place. With such a high commission, be careful that person gets angry and comes after you."

"Stop talking nonsense!"

When Jante saw that he was unwilling to reveal the other party's true identity, he cursed angrily and went back to his seat to drink.

"Speaking of which, it's really quiet here today."

Anderson scanned the lobby and noticed that although there were a few adventurers scattered around yesterday, it was completely empty today. "Alright, I'm leaving now. It's not safe to carry so much money. Let's grab a drink sometime!"

He walked out of the first floor and came to the bustling street.

As noon approached, the streets became busier. Besides pedestrians, various vendors and shops opened for business, selling everything from the sap of the "Gulu" tree (a local specialty) to grilled fish, creating a dense, crowded scene. This made it quite difficult for Anderson to walk.

But he was a Sequence 5 hunter after all. Holding the box, he used his arms to push aside the crowd and continued walking forward.

"Freshly grilled fish! It was just caught a dozen minutes ago."

At a nearby stall, the shop owner was soliciting customers when suddenly, without warning, the steel rod in his hand pierced out and aimed at Anderson's side.

"boom!"

A nearby pirate suddenly drew his revolver and fired at Anderson's head.

"What am I doing?"

After the gunshot, he seemed to come to his senses, muttering to himself with a look of surprise and fear.

At that moment, Anderson, facing a life-or-death crisis, suddenly moved.

"brush!"

He twisted his body in an incredibly difficult way, dodging both the steel rod and the revolver bullets.

"ah--"

The crowd erupted in chaos; the gunshots fueled their emotions, and they began to run and try to escape. Anderson, at the center of the commotion, was immediately surrounded by the crowd and found it difficult to move.

what happened?

Did Jante leak the information, or was it one of the other adventurers who were present at the time?
Anderson had no time to think about anything else; he clutched the suitcase tightly and tried to escape into the distance.

But then, more attacks occurred.

"Wow!"

An old man splashed a pot of freshly boiled water from his hand, aiming it directly at Anderson's face. He ducked, but beneath him he saw a large, gleaming light—the cold glint of daggers—from the hands of everyone who approached him.

strange!
Even the most oblivious person would have sensed something was amiss amidst the series of events.

Someone is pulling the strings behind all this, trying to kill me!
It seems that the authorities are either hunting me down because I exposed the information about the "Blood Cultivators," or they simply discovered I was carrying a large sum of cash and want to take my money.
"boom!"

Anderson was engulfed in blazing white flames, and the dagger that was thrust at him was melted by the flames before it could even pierce his body. The intense heat roused the people, who, seeing the strange phenomenon before them, screamed and fled in all directions.

(End of this chapter)