Man on the ark, forced to become king

Hohmann lowered his head even further and answered respectfully, but did not finish his sentence, nor did he need to.

The White Wolf Killer has a very good reputation in Syracuse, though not a good one.

However, as an assassin, few can reach her level. Even some small families have to avoid her sharp edge. Even without their help, she probably won't be in any big trouble. At most, she'll be a bit embarrassed, but she won't be seriously injured or killed.

"That's good. If you have the chance, try to get in touch with her. This matter is not so simple. Now you can go down."

Dasmi snorted and waved his hand impatiently.

"Yes."

The Syracuse gangs are strictly hierarchical. Dasmi has risen through the ranks since returning from Lungmen and is now a favorite of the second boss. He is also known for his unpredictable temper. Homan didn't dare to ask any more questions, secretly breathed a sigh of relief, and hurriedly left.

Dasmi was the only one left in the office. Through the giant glass window in the wall, he could see the bright lights and revelry of the dance floor below.

"Power...it's wonderful."

Dasmi downed the glass of red wine in one gulp, squinted his eyes, a hint of madness and intoxication on his face, and sighed softly.

Strength is indeed a good thing.

Who would have thought that after losing so many people in Lungmen and messing up the mission, he would not only not be punished upon his return, but would instead gain the appreciation of the second boss of the Lucchese family, officially becoming an insider of the Lucchese family from a partner, and even being assigned to lead a small team on his own, all of which he had dreamed of before.

What is a partner?

That's a load of rubbish!

They are consumables in the eyes of important figures in the family, trash that can be discarded at will. They are lapdogs that wag their tails and beg for mercy, coming when summoned and leaving when dismissed. When they need you, they might throw you a few bones, but when they no longer need you, or if you have offended someone, you will be thrown into the sewer to rot and stink before you even see the sun the next day.

Even though they are both in charge of a small team, the power and status of the team leader within the family are much higher than that of the partners. It can even be said that they have a little bit of say, although not much.

Just like now, he can sit on the second floor of the bar, leisurely drinking red wine. With a single command, someone will naturally take care of the matter. Meanwhile, his former partners and colleagues are probably hiding in some corner licking their wounds, their quality of life vastly different.

And all of this was bestowed by that godlike man!

Yes, God.

Recalling that scene again, Dasmi's eyes showed no hatred, but rather were filled with fanaticism and reverence.

It was that golden light that made him who he is today!

Nightmares about killing your comrades, nightmares that bring humiliation... that's all bullshit!

Anyone who can give him power is his god!

With each person he killed, the power within him grew stronger... Dasmi had never experienced anything so wonderful.

Unfortunately, in a place like Syracuse, human life is the least valuable thing.

Every moment, new families are born and old families are destroyed. Countless corpses float in the sewers, and the streets are stained with blood every day.

Syracuse is such a place.

Without a unified political system, without the constraints of a nation and laws, the rules established by the family are the ironclad laws that everyone must abide by. Killing and being killed, bloodshed and death are the main themes here, and this has been the case from ancient times to the present.

Killing people makes you stronger; nothing is more suitable for gangs, more suitable for the power of Syracuse, at least that's what Dasmi thinks.

He could feel that with each person who died by his sword, a distant and great being would infuse his body with power, a wonderful sensation that was simply addictive.

He certainly knew who it was, and he held that great being in high esteem.

Thanks to this blessing, he killed enemies and rivals he could not defeat before, rose to his current position, and can climb even higher!

As long as our strength continues to grow, perhaps... those top positions in the family won't be so far out of reach...

The premise is that this gift continues to exist.

Once you gain something, you fear losing it even more. What can be given can also be taken back. Dassim knew he couldn't lose the power called 'blessing,' so he had to do his best to please that great being.

Killing enemies and sacrificing them is the only way he can access them.

That was certainly the case before today.

However, after today, Dassim discovered another path, and he found traces of the black wolf's companion.

Back in Longmen, that lord personally protected Black Wolf, so there must be a connection between them. Even if there wasn't one before, there definitely was after that. So, can Black Wolf's companions please that lord?

Dassim didn't know, but he decided to give it a try.

Although helping the white wolf might not bring praise, leaving it unattended could incur the other's displeasure. Even if the odds were slim, he dared not gamble.

So he barely hesitated before sending his men to provide White Wolf with a secret route to help her escape the pursuit, and even planned to invite her over for a visit.

The people chasing the White Wolf had nothing to do with the Lucches family. The family's higher-ups only saw the last descendant of the Texas family. As for the White Wolf... he was just a knife, and no one would take him seriously.

Therefore, Dassim wasn't worried about the consequences of doing so. The people chasing the white wolf were just small to medium-sized families, not worth paying attention to.

This city is the territory of the Lucchese family; no one dares to challenge them here.

However, perhaps that's not enough.

Dasmi stared at the dance floor below for a while, then suddenly realized that the person who was chasing the White Wolf, who had forced her to keep running, might have some problems. Providing a secret route might not be enough.

"No, I have to go and see for myself."

Dasmi loosened the bow tie around his neck, casually picked up the weapon on the desk, licked his lips, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes.

He was determined to handle this matter perfectly, hoping to gain favor with some powerful figure in the future.

We can't afford any accidents, not even the slightest one.

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

"Tsk, these scum."

In the dark alley, crimson bloodstains mixed with dust traced twisted marks on the ground. The girl muttered curses under her breath as she shook the blood off her sword.

The bright red stains were printed on her black trench coat and even on her white hair, making her look quite disheveled.

As the body moved, cuts appeared on the surface of the trench coat, revealing glimpses of fair skin and... wounds.

The blood on the ground was still flowing, some from the enemy, and some from her own.

The difference is that most of the bloodstains belonged to people who are now lying on the ground as cold corpses, while she is still standing.

How many waves of assassins are there now?

Lapland was slightly out of breath as she tried to recall, but ultimately couldn't come up with a definite answer.

Two cities, hundreds of kilometers apart, and countless assassins encountered along the way. The only certainty is that those people have not given up.

Isn't it just that we took down their boss?

Lappland didn't think it was a big deal when she took action against a not-so-famous, run-down family.

There are at least a hundred families of that caliber in Syracuse, and they could be wiped out any day. Even if their boss were killed, the most that would happen is that the bounty on the black market would be increased. Lappland wouldn't even bother to think about such a thing.

With so many people already offering bounties for her, a few more wouldn't matter.

However, things didn't go as planned. The trouble this time brought was far beyond what she had imagined. For some reason, the people from that family seemed to be chasing her like madmen, one group after another, as if it were a fight to the death.

Such behavior is extremely unusual in a place like Syracuse.

They're all gangsters, what real feelings could they possibly have?

When a boss dies, someone else will naturally take his place. Perhaps someone within the family has been waiting for this opportunity. In the end, the retaliation against the murderer is basically just issuing a bounty and sending a few cannon fodder as a token gesture, and that's about it.

In Syracuse, such a trivial matter wouldn't even qualify for the news.

But what's with this reckless pursuit? How many people have come? How many have died?

Lappland felt that her weapon was getting dull from all the cutting, but the pursuit showed no signs of abating; on the contrary, it intensified.

Even the infamous White Wolf assassin was struggling to keep up with such a madman-like opponent.

Humans are made of flesh and blood, not machines. Besides, even machines break down and need repair.

After more than ten days of relentless pursuit and relentless pressure, with virtually no time for rest or resupply, Lappland himself knew how much luck had contributed to his ability to hold out this long.

If this continues, she probably won't be able to hold on for much longer.

In fact, if someone hadn't provided her with a map of the city's sewers, she would have died in the ambush this morning.

There might be a miracle, but Lappland never expected that.

"I wonder where Texas is now, and how she's doing..."

With great effort, Lappland sat down against the wall to regain her strength. As she did so, she couldn't help but think of her only friend in Syracuse, or rather, her former friend.

They were once lone wolves huddling together for warmth, close friends who could entrust their backs to each other.

What kind of relationship do you have after you go your separate ways?

Lappland wasn't quite sure, but at least she still considered Texas a friend and had no intention of giving up. She would definitely go to her in the future to see if Texas had found the life she wanted and if she still remembered her old friends in Syracuse.

However... she may not have the chance.

Leaning against the cold, damp wall, the stench of blood permeating the air made me feel nauseous.

Without supplies or rest, and already suffering from severe Oripathy, Lappland felt she was about to die here. Fortunately, she had killed so many of the enemy before she died, taking a few more with her.

Even though they're all small fry, if the quality isn't good, the quantity is enough, so she's not at a loss.

"coming!"

Her squinted eyes suddenly widened. A wolf's ears are very sharp, and the white wolf girl, lost in thought, easily detected the approaching, undisguised footsteps. She immediately knew that those madmen had caught up with her again.

Having lived in Syracuse for so long, this was the first time she had ever seen someone even more insane than herself. They had no tactics, no plans, they just swarmed in and poured their lives into the fray until it was full.