The past was built upon collecting unique characteristics.

The Rose Theatre is located on the border between the suburbs and the city, backed by a grove of trees, and appears particularly dark on the night due to the lack of streetlights.

To address this, the management set up numerous bonfires in the surrounding open areas, their flickering light dispelling the darkness. However, as the wind intensified, the flames began to sway precariously.

Tonight's show is "The Singh Brothers," a lighthearted entertainment performance by two comedians who are known for their exaggerated movements and facial expressions, which have won them many fans.

Despite the sudden change in weather and howling winds outside, the theater remained bustling with activity. The best-located boxes were reserved by the powerful and influential. The bad weather subconsciously led people to seek entertainment while also finding a safe and warm refuge from the rain.

On the second floor of the theater, in a relatively secluded costume and prop room near the backstage, between two rows of hangers filled with various costumes, two figures embraced intimately, their lips lingering for a long time before finally parting.

"My dearest Quilt, when will you finally marry me?" The blonde Daisy gently pushed away the rutting beast before her, her eyes gradually becoming hazy. "You know, my dream is to have a proper wedding with a man like you in a church, witnessed by a priest."

Upon hearing this, the thin man in the leather vest with slightly curly hair paused slightly, then responded in an even gentler tone:

"It will take some time, my darling. Once we finish this mission and raise enough money, I'll take you far away."

He cupped Daisy's face in his hands, his tone incredibly sincere.

"I promise you, I'll give you the best. Whether you want to book in the biggest church or a sunny town in the south, it's all up to you."

Seeing the man make a concrete promise, the last trace of doubt on the blonde woman's face disappeared, and she took the initiative to wrap her arms tightly around his neck, pressing her body close together.

Just then, a commotion arose from the main theater below. Upon closer listening, it was clear that it was the sound of police officers conducting a surprise inspection.

The man known as Quilt instantly sobered up, roughly throwing the blonde woman off his arms, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Ah!" Daisy cried out in pain as she was thrown to the ground. She looked up at the man glaring at her, and combined with the commotion from outside, she immediately understood why he was reacting so strongly.

"What?! You suspect me?" Daisy shouted aggrievedly, only to receive a slap in return.

Then she saw the man quickly put on his coat, open the second-floor window, and jump down.

All of this was clearly seen by Morian, who had arrived earlier and was hiding in the shadows.

Morian waited a while, making sure the police weren't giving chase, and then determined the man's escape route before turning into a secluded alley.

His long years of experience made him extremely familiar with the surrounding terrain, and he could even take shortcuts to intercept people in the maze-like slums.

……

Quilt ran all the way back to the streets of Bet City, far from the theater. He dared not gamble that the police were there to arrest him, much less that Daisy was the one who had reported him.

In this extraordinary world, even the slightest oversight can be fatal.

Unfortunately, the weather turned against them, with sporadic raindrops gradually falling, making the roads slippery and muddy, limiting visibility, and causing it to drop sharply in the rain.

Tick-tock! Tick-tock! Whoosh!

In the blink of an eye, the light drizzle turned into a downpour, the wide streets were deserted, and even the remaining gas streetlights inexplicably went out in the rain, plunging the area into deeper darkness.

"Damn woman!" Quilt cursed, wiping the rain from his face. The cold, damp touch irritated him.

Because of his sensitive identity, he could not stay in a temporary hotel and could only rush back to his secluded apartment room as soon as possible.

Ding Ding Deng!

Just as they quickened their pace, a figure suddenly blocked the middle of the road ahead without warning.

The man stood silently in the heavy rain, his pale mask standing out eerily in the darkness, conveying a sense of mockery.

What the hell?! Just passing by? Or are you here specifically to cause trouble?

Quilter slowed his pace, trying to figure out the other person's intentions in the dim, rainy night.

In the instant he was stunned, the figure took out an item from his waist and raised his arm, aiming it at him.

boom!

The revolver's muzzle flashed fiercely, and the bullet ejected from the chamber tore through the rain, sliced ​​through the air, and headed straight for Quilt.

Blood instantly bloomed on his shoulder. Feeling the excruciating pain, Quilt looked down in disbelief at his blood-stained shoulder.

Immediately afterwards, he saw the figure's finger pull the trigger again.

boom! boom! boom!

Several bullets are fired in succession at the same time, and the dense trajectories form an invisible net that covers multiple angles. No matter how you react, it is extremely difficult to completely dodge them.

In that brief moment of life and death, Quilt no longer hesitated, but suddenly lunged in one direction, and upon landing, he used the strength of his arm to spring back up, dodging the incoming gunfire in a bizarre posture.

Even so, he was still shot in the leg, and felt a burning, tearing sensation.

He was shot twice, once in the shoulder and once in the leg! And he was caught off guard by such a despicable sneak attack!

The intense pain and humiliation made Quilt so angry that he could hardly control himself. He never expected to be played like this, especially in such awful weather.

Grass!

Beneath the mask, Morian cursed inwardly. The heavy rain had significantly reduced visibility and accuracy, and his already low accuracy had probably dropped to only about 30-40%.

I had hoped that it might kill him with one shot, or at least seriously injure him, but it only caused some considerable damage.

Suddenly, the man burst into action, charging like a cannonball. He quickly dropped his empty revolver and entered close combat.

call out!

A fist came flying with a whooshing sound. Morian quickly raised his arm to block. The moment the fist and arm collided, he felt a tingling sensation in his forearm bone, which meant that the opponent's strength was superior.

However, Quilt gave him no chance to catch his breath, and with his injured left leg, he kicked out with a sudden side kick, aiming directly at the waist and abdomen.

Morian quickly took half a step back, barely avoiding the attack.

Immediately following was a barrage of punches, and Morian could only parry and dodge, maneuvering nimbly to avoid direct confrontation.

With each dodge, a heavy fist grazed past him, nearly hitting him.

His movement skills originated from the "nimble footwork" that had been integrated into "movement". Although this skill has disappeared, some of it is still engraved in his soul and instinct.

Quilt felt that no matter how he attacked, the ridiculous guy in front of him could just happen to dodge, as if he had gotten lucky.

He was clearly weaker than himself, yet he couldn't hit him no matter what he did. This frustration made him feel as uncomfortable as if he had silently eaten dog shit.

He pressed forward relentlessly, chasing and fighting until he found an opportunity, and suddenly his right leg lashed out like a whip at Morian's head.

Snapped!

The whip kick landed on his elbow, the bone felt like it was about to crack, but Morian endured the excruciating pain and, taking advantage of the moment when his opponent lost his balance, grabbed the attacking right leg and twisted it sharply to the side.

"ah!--"

A scream pierced the rainy night. Quilt never expected his opponent to choose to take his heavy blow head-on, and he fell heavily into the rain and mud.

Mud and water splattered everywhere as Morian quickly took the upper hand, straddling his opponent and relentlessly attacking. His fists rained down, fueled by pent-up anger and killing intent, targeting the vulnerable head.

boom!boom!boom!boom!

Chin...bridge of the nose...throat, strike wherever it's vulnerable, every punch delivered with full force.

Rainwater mixed with blood splattered across Quilt's face, and Morian's own fists were stinging from the continuous blows, but he didn't care, believing that the guy beneath him was suffering more pain than he was.

puff!

A mouthful of blood spurted from Quilt's mouth, and a look of horror flashed in his eyes after being hit repeatedly.

An Ascended One?!

This force surpasses that of ordinary people; it is the power of someone who has just entered the extraordinary realm.

"Get out of my way!" Quilt roared, and a red light suddenly emanated from his chest.

boom!

With a deafening roar, intense orange-red flames rose from his body and exploded outwards in all directions, centered on his body.

The high temperature instantly evaporated the nearby rainwater, making a hissing sound.

Morian, who was riding on top, felt a scorching force strike his chest, and he was uncontrollably pushed back several meters by this force.

"Tsk." Morian's face showed disappointment, and his words sounded particularly provocative in the sound of rain.

"I haven't had enough fun yet."

Soaked in the heavy rain, Quilt, who had suffered consecutive gunshot wounds and heavy blows, clutched his chest, coughed up a mouthful of blood, and looked at the guy who had suddenly appeared not far away, wishing he could tear him to pieces immediately.

"Who are you?! I have no grudge against you, why are you surrounding me here to kill me?!"

His gloomy face was almost distorted with anger. He vaguely felt that the figure in front of him looked familiar, but he couldn't remember when or where he had seen him before.

Morian did not answer the question immediately. He calmly took down the long bag he had been carrying on his back, untied the rope, and took out a long knife with a slender shape, nearly a meter long.

This was the weapon Charlotte had commissioned for him. The blade was made of meteorite iron and fine steel, and forged by a renowned blacksmith. Both its hardness and sharpness were top-notch, a pure crystallization of "money power".

"Zzzzt—!"

A crisp metallic scraping sound rang out, and the moment the long sword was drawn from its sheath, a flash of cold light appeared from the blade, as if cutting through a curtain of rain.

Almost at the same time the blade was drawn, another strange phenomenon occurred.

A phantom image of a wolf's head, exuding unparalleled killing intent and savagery, suddenly materialized behind Morian. The phantom's cold, vertical pupils were aimed at Quilt, and it silently opened its crimson maw, revealing bloodthirsty fangs.

The enormous phantom then rapidly shrank, transforming into a shadow that clung to Morian's side, while the other part, like a living thing, quietly merged into the blade that gleamed with a cold light.

Morian held his weapon in one hand, the crimson tip of the blade pointing diagonally to the ground. Raindrops fell onto the blade, only to be instantly sliced ​​apart by the wolf shadow within.

Beneath the mask, Quilt couldn't see his expression, nor did he know whether it was joy or sorrow behind the mask. He only felt that the unchanging smile on that pale mask seemed to be getting more and more intense, and an invisible, enormous sense of oppression, a mixture of cold killing intent and violent bestiality, was crushing down on him.

Just then, a chilling gust of wind swept by, scattering some of the rain and ruffling Morian's soaked black hair. The wind caused the hem of his black trench coat to flutter, further fueling the flames of revenge burning within him.

"The one who will send you to hell."