He is the leader of the Tantric sect in Chagdu.

Chapter 108 Ronan

Lolanda Hallownest, end of the fourth quarter.

In the far suburbs, in a dark alley.

"There are 2 days and 11 hours left until the next sewage discharge."

The alley, also known as the "container area," looks like a large dock unloading point from above, but it's much larger than that. This is also the only place in the suburbs that can be called a "factory," as it still retains machines and assembly lines from an unknown era. Some of the laborers and resources were taken back from factories on the outskirts of the city by the suburbans. However, they obviously don't have the ability to build a generator to power these behemoths, nor do they fully understand the functions of these machines. So, apart from the simplest rolling mills and lathes, they don't understand anything more complex.

"Alley Workshops" are the most common factions here. They are workshop owners who occupy a container workshop and operate a part of the basic industrial chain. The most important businesses are, of course, "weapon manufacturing" and "food packaging". Each workshop owner also acts as an intermediary in the suburbs and a local tyrant. Their power has taken root in this complicated area. They are especially good at competing for resources such as "transportation lines" and "raw materials". Even the big factions dare not doubt their sense of smell.

However, recently, this place has become noticeably more lively than before, since almost all the wild factions were driven to graze their livestock here by the Grey Court. Dark Alley has become one of the few remaining strongholds for the people of the suburbs. They can barely survive by relying on the food and weapons stored in the warehouse, but it won't last long.

The pure white of the sky could not dispel the darkness of the earth. Two lonely shadows walked among the vast ruins, as if they had lost their sense of existence and were insignificant.

Ronan and Prayer.

The tiny beast-like girl wasn't so noticeable next to Ai, but compared to Ronan, she appeared almost infinitely small—

The two also have contrasting personalities. Ronan, whose ego sprouted and awakened after encountering the worm, is now like a blazing, igniting firewood. Getting too close feels like being burned by the sparks flying from his eyes.

He walked in silence, opening his mouth several times to say a word to his "teammate" on this mission, but was deterred by the chilling sensation that ran through his body.

Qi, walking beside him, was like a dark shadow lurking beneath the firelight—from the outer robe that almost covered his entire body, only a cold and sharp edge could be faintly seen, like a deadly and dangerous blade.

"————" Ronan pondered life as he walked. He had always felt that his teammate was a bit off. From the moment he was abducted to the outskirts, his current boss had assigned this Inchu girl to be his guide.

At first, he thought Xiao Qi was the "forbidden" person who was monitoring him, but after a while, he realized that the fox had ulterior motives.

When Ronan and his companion first arrived at Grey Court, they were filled with strong hostility and vigilance towards everything around them. After all, they had been forcibly taken there. Although everyone tacitly kept quiet about it, the people of Pure Deer knew that they had become "forbidden captives."

Although Ronan didn't know what the "Father of Light"'s purpose was, it didn't affect his determination to "fight to the death." After all, the last information from the think tank indicated that the Foundation had basically confirmed them as martyrs. With two taboo disasters breaking out at the same time, the rescue was an even more unpredictable question.

What puzzled Ronan was that this "forbidden messenger" did not make things difficult for them, nor did he restrict their freedom. Apart from placing a beast-like girl next to them, his attitude was basically the same as "free-range".

Initially, when Ronan first saw Xiao Qi, he also experienced a brief period of anger: his budding sensitivity and spirituality instantly perceived the little guy's "terrible state of being"—this young Inchu, both in body and soul, was like a broken doll, with cotton fluff flying inside and a fragmented exterior.

He had initially thought this was a "bloodbath" that "Taboo" had laid bare before him to demonstrate his evil deeds and attitude. But soon, this initial impression was overturned. Ronan witnessed firsthand the Black Child's trust and dependence on "Gray," and with the dense "stitches" and "healing marks" on Xiao Qi's soul, the two finally began to consider: this "Taboo" might not be as "terrifying" and "evil" as stereotyped.

And the facts have proven that he is indeed not related to "evil"—this can be seen from the fact that Gray Garden has a strong bottom line and can even be described as "full of humanity" in his behavior. As for the fox-like messenger, he is even more like a kind of mental fastidiousness.

After Ronan was dragged along by Xiao Qi to complete the "Three Days in the Gray Courtyard," the Fire Apprentice finally lost his temper and even went to Ai to ask her personally—what exactly do you want to do?!

"Why are you showing me this?"

Ronan vaguely remembered that his attitude at the time probably wasn't very good. After all, it was a period of ideological clashes, and his worldview felt somewhat shattered and reshaped. "The little girl you sent to my side—I roughly know what happened to her, but I really don't understand—"

—A “taboo” that nearly overthrew the city is now trying to drive a “just change.”

If someone had told him something like this before, Ronan would have just laughed it off.

Then he heard this answer: "Warrior plus Assassin—isn't that the standard team composition?"

When Ai heard this question, she came over and patted Ronan on the shoulder, saying earnestly, "The organization is just starting out, and there are too few people with combat power. Your deer is still a level behind you, and we can't find many ranged DPS for the time being. Just make do for now. Anyway, we're going to smurf—Xiao Qi is also very good."

"What is all this nonsense?" Ronan felt like he was going crazy.

—A completely irrelevant answer!

The Fire Apprentice's courageous questioning was thus glossed over with a mix of coaxing and deception, and the fox didn't even give him a chance to say another word. On the fourth day after arriving in the outskirts, Ronan and Mia also quietly joined the Gray Court's operations, and within half a month, their relationship had developed into what it is today.

—This is an over-expansion.

But it also proves that sometimes, only what can be truly seen has enough weight.

"Tsk, but the more I think about it, the angrier I get."

Thinking of this, Ronan could only sulk over the fox, secretly baring his teeth—but he couldn't let Xiao Qi see, otherwise the little guy would complain to the fox. Bored, he took out a cigarette from his pocket and snapped his fingers to light it.

Xiao Qi glanced at him silently at this moment, but didn't say anything.

"I wasn't smoking just two weeks ago—"

Ronan knew he was making conversation, but the girl was so aloof that he was afraid he'd suffocate if he didn't start something. "It's all your fault—well, it's my boss's fault. He's taught me nothing good, only bad things—guess how he shoved the cigarette into my hand?"

Ronan smiled. "He told me—"

Why smoke?

Without a second thought, Ai replied, "Because when you're punishing evil, you can step on the head of a loser, casually shove your cigarette butt into this bastard's mouth, and force him to swallow it, or just shove the cigarette into his eyes—imagine how exciting that would be!"

When the fox said this, the wicked glint in its beautiful eyes was almost overflowing, and Ronan, upon hearing it, couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat—"Hey, hey—don't do something so outrageous for such a ridiculous reason!"

—This guy! He has such an adorable face, but sometimes the words that come out of that little mouth have to be censored.

But—you know what that scene was like.

Ronan took a deep breath:

—Maybe—it's actually quite exciting.

Suddenly, a cold, disdainful gaze, as if looking at trash, shot over from the side: "Stare—"

'

Then a soft voice rang out: "The boss never smokes in front of Qi."

"Well-

"6

Seeing the girl's serious gaze, as if doused with a bucket of ice water, Ronan's fingertips silently extinguished the flame, and his expression froze instantly. After a long pause, he finally managed to utter a few words, "I'm...sorry."

"Hmm————" Xiao Qi silently turned her head to the side, leaving Ronan with a look of utter despair.

—I got lectured by a child, I feel like dying—

The memory was abruptly ended, leaving Ronan with only a helpless sigh. He threw the cigarette he had just lit onto the ground and stomped it out, his face slightly flushed as he coughed twice.

"Cough cough————"

I almost choked.

—What's so good about this thing?

Puzzled, Ronan quickened his pace to catch up with Xiao Qi, who was walking ahead.

—I'm so angry.

He recalled the girl's eyes, like sparkling jewels, quietly brimming with tears when she looked at him—and he couldn't help but stare blankly.

Even after all this time together, Ronan still couldn't accept that gaze that seemed to emanate from the inorganic matter.

—It should have been more vibrant and beautiful, but it was destroyed by malice and greed.

Then, the newly appointed head of the security department took a deep breath, and a glint of fire rose in his eyes.

—I feel like killing someone.

Over the past month, the once powerful factions in the suburbs have suffered devastating blows—the earliest giants are barely surviving, and the Strangler Party's original double-digit headhunters have been almost entirely wiped out, with the remainder surrendering to Gray Court.

Meanwhile, the "big spender" of the Neon Club and Paradise City, who was the first "leader" to wave the white flag to the Gray Court, was thrown into a canning machine that very day. His flesh and fat were sent to the headquarters of the "resistance army." This frightened the "leader of the money pit" who ran the related industries, and he abandoned the idea of ​​surrendering and began to flee overnight.

Besides, the unpopular cult members are almost all dead; the survivors have now joined the "Mentor's" camp. The con artists and the fugitives' family have all defected and are now the ones responsible for recruiting them to Gray Court's side.

In short, many of the former factions in the suburbs are now reduced to a few scattered individuals, and of the original giants, only the "Black Hand Gang" and the "Secret Society" remain with some scale. They form the majority of the resistance's fighting force, following the "Godfather" on one side and the "Mentor" on the other.

Today, the already turbulent situation has worsened once again.

Dark alley, Workshop No. 11.

A temporary stronghold for the resistance.

The factions that could still muster enough people to hold a meeting during this time period, according to their original preparations, were at least some kind of "giants." Although the scene was shabby, at least they maintained a basic level of decorum.

The dimly lit room was completely silent as everyone listened attentively to the person sitting in the center.

"Those charlatans—aren't you going to make a move yet?"

With a soft, dissatisfied groan from deep within his throat, the last "godfather" of the resistance was already at the forefront of the battle line, with the seamless dome behind him.

In reality, they had nowhere left to retreat.

—Or rather, there is nowhere to escape.

"Godfather, we give them chances again and again, buying them time to accumulate what they call power."

A tall figure leaned against the metal wall of a shipping container, speaking slowly, his tone deliberate yet filled with chilling killing intent, "And the result is—we are deceived time and time again—what secret societies, what invisible arts, their power is as base and lowly as their 'habits'—what's the difference between them and those worthless cultists?"

He scoffed, "Like rats with nowhere to escape, they just dig a hole and wait to die. Those charlatans probably never even thought of resisting—they were just planning to wear us all down here, and then leisurely make their appearance, offering us as gifts to that piece of shit, Gray Court."

A murmur of approval rose from the surroundings.

"We should have thought of this sooner—"

That's enough.

The Godfather let out a deep roar, barely suppressing his anger.

"What's the point of saying all this now? Let's..."

Suddenly, the words were abruptly cut off, followed by an endless silence.

All sounds went out.

"?" The Godfather stared silently at the incomprehensible scene before him. His subordinate, who had been complaining to him just two seconds ago, suddenly leaned against the wall and fell to the ground with a thud.

Then, without any intermediate process, a head slowly slid down from where it was supposed to be.

The neat wound on his neck was so smooth and clean that it looked as if he had never been injured—but when the blood sprayed out like a fountain, the air was instantly filled with a pungent metallic smell. Everyone stood there stunned, as if they had lost their souls. Every gun that was raised high was like a venomous snake in the dark, its sharp fangs exposed but utterly harmless.

"Who?!"

The roar was cut short by a choking sound deep in his throat—even the well-informed Godfather could not believe his eyes.

At the workshop entrance, the specially thickened door, with its inner steel lining over two centimeters thick, was slashed open like tofu by some sharp instrument, leaving a jagged crack. As a crimson light leaked in through the gap, the temperature inside the container instantly rose by twenty degrees, as if one were being roasted in a steamer.

Fine beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, but his eyes remained closed. The Godfather stared at the scene before him in deathly silence. The next second after the crack appeared, a clean-looking hand reached in from the outside—no hydraulic pump, no grotesque mechanical structure, just an arm that looked no different from an ordinary person's. It had a little bit of muscle that made it look less thin, but it was definitely not strong either.

But it was this very arm that tore a rough edge off one side of the steel plate, and then what seemed like a light, effortless tug.

"Tear—"

""

The scene defies common sense; if that arm wasn't fitted with some kind of super prosthetic that defies all logic, then it would be a case of flesh and blood directly crushing steel.

"Tearing"

With a series of extremely piercing screeching sounds, the entire container shook, and the sound of the metal sheet cracking almost simultaneously ripped apart everyone's eardrums—and along with it, the courage of ordinary people also vanished.

"What the hell—?" the Godfather asked, his lips trembling.

Although he had heard from his subordinates more than once that the power of the Gray Garden was incomprehensible, and that their fighters were demons burning with fire, monsters capable of challenging steel with their flesh.

But this was the first time the Godfather had witnessed this "transcendental" power firsthand, a realm beyond the reach of carbon-based life. He began to wonder if he could fight against it if he donned that imagined "full power armor".

The style is completely different from the group of charlatans under the "mentor".

—It does not fill its core with "lies," but rather transcends nature with its expressive power, a mysterious force that is real and by no means illusory.

At this very moment, right in front of the workshop, the uninvited guest had already removed the heavy door panel and casually tossed it aside. Those eyes burning with flames cast their gaze down from the heights of the soul, looking down at every soul that couldn't help but tremble at the sight of extraordinary power up close.

"They're all here—"

Ronan stepped into the workshop, his feet treading on the scorched earth. The air around him rippled with heat, distorting every figure around him into a small, deformed shape, reflecting the fearful, huddled gazes.

"Sorry to bother you."

He snapped his fingers, lit a cigarette in his mouth with the red flame at his fingertips, and exhaled a puff of white smoke, speaking softly as if proclaiming a judgment.

"Want to learn about the crackdown on organized crime?"