Lu Mingfei, become the king of gambling in dungeons!

The black hunting knife, which had been knocked away, embedded itself in the blue bricks of the underground shopping mall.

"...I'm also a member of the Secret Party, one of our own. The fog here is interfering with my judgment."

The blond man who introduced himself offered a brief explanation but didn't elaborate further, failing to fully clarify the cause and effect of the situation.

This is not arrogance. After falling into a disadvantageous position, he had neither the premise nor the need to be arrogant. He knew that people with reservations would choose to believe him with just one sentence if he had a way out, while it would be useless to say more to those who did not choose to believe him.

His hair was disheveled from the repeated scalping, revealing his heterochromatic eyes of ice blue and dark gold. His features were handsome and three-dimensional, but overall he looked like a demon who was attached to the mortal world.

"Nonsense..." Lu Mingfei glanced at a patch of blue mist behind him, hesitated, and decided not to make a move here.

He wasn't worried about the Secret Party; his ignorance was blissful, and he had only a superficial understanding of the Secret Party, so he wasn't particularly afraid.

It's just that I don't want to fight two people at once.

"Are you related to Caesar?" Lu Mingfei turned and left, heading towards the subway station entrance, facing the hellish, biting wind.

His body was a little hot, and the cool breeze was just right.

The handsome blond man did not answer the question directly: "Pasy Gattuso, the Gattuso family's... secretary, Mr. Lu, whom we met at the hearing not long ago."

How come all these foreigners speak such excellent Chinese?

Lu Mingfei paused for a moment, looking puzzled but not turning around to give a response.

This Pasi's combat ability is significantly superior to Caesar's, and it could even be said that he is much stronger than Caesar without his blood splattering and self-igniting. Yet, he is merely a secretary in the Gattuso household.

Isn't it said that in the world of hybrids, bloodline is roughly equivalent to superiority and combat ability?

Does the Gattuso family not value the strength of bloodlines? Do they insist on the old system of distinguishing between legitimate and illegitimate children?

Or is it that in the world of mixed-race people... the secretary is actually a very valuable position?

Watching Lu Mingfei's figure gradually disappear into the fog, Percy thoughtfully walked to his hunting knife, "Augustus."

Time passed second by second, but he remained vigilant, wary of a certain person.

"Come out."

"Also, please stop following me. Sometimes you talk too loudly on the phone," Percy said without turning around, his tone indifferent.

After waiting for a while, he heard "Sasa" making noises around him.

A burly, tall figure appeared in the mist beside the luxury store entrance, chewing gum he'd somehow acquired, his voice slightly mocking.

"Hehehe, he noticed me when he was fighting you. I wonder if you were a beat too slow or a beat too fast, huh? Mr. Percy, you got a pretty bad beating?"

You probably thought you'd dumped me before, right?

The muscular man wearing a KFC headgear slowly emerged from the blue mist. As he passed by Percy, he bumped into Percy's shoulder and kept exclaiming, "Holy crap, holy crap, that's so powerful!" while touching the dented human-shaped wall.

Percy lowered his eyes: "..."

"I was a step too slow," he said honestly.

Only those familiar with him understood that he had entered a highly vigilant defensive stance, with every muscle in his body strengthened under the influence of the dragon's blood.

"I never thought I had shaken off your pursuit. I always need to confirm things I'm not sure about." Percy paced around his hunting knife.

Mr. KFC crossed his arms: "Honesty is a rare virtue. I thought you were some arrogant guy like Caesar. Aren't you curious why I took the initiative to approach you when you were fighting?"

He rubbed his hands together maliciously: "Actually, you should thank me. I waited in the shadows for so long, and you didn't even come over to say thank you. Relax, neither of us are thieves today."

"Thanks, I'm a little curious." Pasi paused for a moment, "but not particularly curious. I don't think it would be good news for someone who's already injured."

Objectively speaking, he was indeed helped; there's no such thing as a free lunch. Moreover, from any perspective, Mr. KFC was definitely not on his side.

Mr. KFC completely ignored Percy's tactful refusal and went on to say, "Because he has things he wants to do more. Although I don't know exactly what his situation is, it's better to leave someone like you, who's a bit of an eyesore and sometimes as slippery as an eel, to me."

"Actually, I'm quite curious why you're not in a hurry to protect your Caesar but instead wandering around here. You're a bit slacking off, not like the good kid behind the rumored acting head of the Gattuso family."

"Are you going to make your move here? What's your reason?" Percy sized up the old acquaintance in front of him, guessing at the other's true identity at Kassel College.

They weren't even really friends, but Percy automatically categorized Mr. KFC as an old acquaintance.

In his eyes, the scope of old acquaintances and friends naturally doesn't overlap much. He hardly has any friends, which is like science fiction. He does have a few close acquaintances, though.

They had only met once, and had cooperated once because they had the same escape route, but they both had a general idea of ​​what kind of beings the other was. This was the shared awareness of beasts tempered by blood and fire in the dark side of this world.

"It's a bad habit to talk nonsense. The reason is... the reason is a joke. You can't make up a reason even if you launch a surprise attack." Mr. KFC bent down and did some warm-up exercises, stretching his legs left and right.

"So you were standing up for someone else?" Percy nodded in understanding. At this point, he wouldn't say anything about how he was the one who suffered a loss; no one would listen or sympathize with him anyway.

That's just how the world is; sometimes reason doesn't work... He who struck first had no reason to reason with; he was at his wit's end.

Standing up for others is a simple yet widespread reason for taking action in society; after all, who in this world doesn't have one or two people they cherish?

"Well then, Mr. Percy of the Gattuso family, the obedient child who outwardly complies but inwardly defies orders, the second duel is about to begin. Do you have anything to say before it officially starts?" The blue bricks under Mr. KFC's feet could no longer bear the weight and cracks appeared. His golden eyes lit up, and his skin had an outer luster similar to bronze. After his figure grew taller, his aura was like a raging flood.

Word of Power: Bronze Throne

Undoubtedly a high-level Word of Power, it can temporarily bring the user's bones, skin, muscles, etc. to a strength close to that of a dragon. In the Word of Power periodic table, it is only two places lower than Junyan, which is at the end of the high-risk Word of Power. It is stable and practical.

A side effect is that you need to take more calcium supplements after frequent use.

"Let me think about it."

After thinking for a moment, Percy raised his temporarily unusable hand: "Give me fifteen minutes. You shouldn't have... a penchant for bullying disabled people, right?"

"Yes, we do."

Mr. KFC, still grinning mischievously, and Percy, who was gradually becoming more composed, exchanged a glance.

The atmosphere became somewhat tense as we looked away.

Percy sighed helplessly, looking down.

He pulled Augustus from the ground and turned to run without hesitation.

Mr. KFC leaped out like a cannonball, followed closely behind.

He chased, he fled.

The first subway marathon of the night has begun.