Sir! Don't close the net!

Ryan pointed his shotgun at Diagon Alley.

"It's perfectly normal for injuries and fatalities to occur during a resistance. Of course, it's quite intriguing to see who will bear the responsibility, isn't it, righteous sheriff?"

Puss's forehead veins bulged as he gripped the revolver tightly in his hand.

"Are you alright, Mr. Righteous Sheriff?" Seeing that Puss was motionless, Ryan smiled even more broadly, spread his arms, turned around and generously exposed his back to Puss, facing Diagon Alley and the passers-by on the other streets, and vigorously swung the shotgun in his hand like a lion showing off its mane. "Looks like you're in bad shape!"

"What? Is this the righteous sheriff you trust? That's it? That's it? You cower at the slightest intimidation?"

After showing off, Ryan turned to Puss and shook his head helplessly.

“Ha… Mr. Puss, why do you still look constipated? Fine, I’ll tell you some good news,” Ryan raised his shotgun, the black muzzle lifting Puss’s cowboy hat and poking it into Puss’s forehead. “Actually, this gun is out of ammunition.”

Ryan grinned.

Do you believe it?

After saying that, Ryan forcefully raised the shotgun in his hand, and the brand-new cowboy hat spun several times in mid-air before falling to the ground.

"But I'm sure your gun is loaded."

Ryan stomped on the cowboy hat, then leaned forward and whispered in Puss's ear.

"But in the hands of a coward like you who dares not fire a gun, no matter how many bullets or how many guns you have, it's the same as having none."

Puss's eye twitched violently.

"I'm really looking forward to the days to come, Mr. Righteous Sheriff."

Ryan raised his hand to pat Puss on the shoulder, but after thinking for a moment, he patted Puss's face with his right hand instead.

After saying that, Ryan and his underlings laughed and strode away.

Only when Ryan and the others' laughter completely subsided did Puss stiffly lower his arm. This action was like breaking the main beam of a house. Puss's body went limp, his pupils contracted, and he vomited while supporting himself with his hands on the ground.

Chapter 127 Sacrificial Offerings

"Mr. Puss... are you alright?"

Puss raised his hand to signal the others not to approach, then gagged a few more times, and stood up, pale and dizzy.

"Give--"

A girl picked up the hat from the ground, wiped off the footprints, and handed it to Puss.

Puss opened his mouth and subconsciously reached out to take it, but when he saw the vomit on his hands, he lowered his hand.

“Mr. Puss—”

The girl stubbornly stood on tiptoe, trying to help Puss put on the cowboy hat.

Puss smiled helplessly and bent down to put on his cowboy hat with the girl's help.

“Everyone… I’m sorry,” Puss straightened up and looked at the people who were walking out of Diagon Alley.

With a face full of apology, he said, "I've embarrassed everyone by showing you how badly I looked."

“This is not your fault, Mr. Puss.”

"No matter how you look at it, it's all those bastards' fault."

“Mr. Puss, you don’t need to apologize.”

"Yes, Mr. Puss, you are a good man. That's the kind of Mr. Puss we trust. Don't think it's your fault just because some bastard said some bastardly things."

Puss clenched his fists, almost instinctively wanting to say something discouraging, but when he thought of Annie's absence and his responsibility to be the pillar of support, he swallowed those discouraging words with all his might, put his hands on his hips, and nodded with a smile.

"That's true...!"

Perhaps I should have fired just now...

Puss laughed easily and began to chat and joke with others naturally. Diagon Alley gradually returned to its previous state, but Puss felt increasingly gloomy and anxious inside.

Ryan didn't know if his shotgun was loaded or not, but he knew that his gun was loaded, but he didn't have the courage to pull the trigger. So, just as Ryan said, without the courage to pull the trigger, it didn't matter whether he had bullets or a gun.

Puss closed the door of the clothing store, slammed his fist heavily on the door frame, and clenched his fists tightly.

It had nothing to do with whether or not a shot was fired, but rather whether or not a person knew how to fire a gun. Ryan was clearly someone who knew how to fire a gun, so when Ryan took out his shotgun, he felt as if a giant hand had gripped his heart. Even though he also had a gun in his hand, capable of killing with a single shot, he unilaterally began to fear Ryan. Ryan saw his fear, so even with a gun pointed at him, he remained very calm, and even became arrogant.

"This... won't work..."

Puss slid down the door frame little by little.

His only trump card was the gun in his hand, and now Ryan has exposed that.

He desperately wanted to give up and chase after Ryan, firing several shots into his back, but he couldn't, and he knew he shouldn't.

If they actually open fire, Earl Wilson will definitely use it as an excuse, and the dignity of the Triassic residents will be completely crushed, not to mention forming a self-defense force. The most effective and safest method now is to give everyone a gun! As long as they each have a gun, even if Ryan is bold, he won't dare to gamble. Even if Earl Wilson has objections, he can only talk about it and won't be able to take any real action.

No, it should be said that no substantial action will be taken in the open.

Ryan's confident provocation and the shotgun in his hand couldn't have come out of thin air; he couldn't think of any other possibility besides Earl Wilson.

Earl Wilson has begun to exert further pressure, with the formation of a self-defense force and the acquisition of arms from Dante becoming increasingly urgent.

Puss took a deep breath, stood up, and vigorously wiped the stains off his hands.

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.

"Hahaha—Boss Ryan, look at how pathetic that guy was just now, he went completely limp."

The henchmen following behind Ryan burst into laughter, clutching their stomachs.

The other underlings also burst into laughter.

But Ryan, who was walking ahead, couldn't laugh. In the end, he seemed to have gotten his revenge on Puss with great ease, but only he knew the dangers involved.

Although he said that Puss was a coward who didn't dare to shoot and that it didn't matter whether there were bullets or not, it was still a gun! Not daring to shoot and not knowing how to shoot are two different things!

If Vanpus's finger twitched even slightly, a hole would appear in his chest. Even in the Jurassic Circle, there was no way to properly treat gunshot wounds, let alone in the Triple Circle, which had nothing to offer.

If Puss had fired the shot, Earl Wilson would have definitely used the opportunity to have Carly completely win over all the homeless people in the Triassic Circle, further suppressing and destroying the self-esteem of the Triassic Circle residents.

Ryan was happy to see this happen, but he had no intention of becoming a sacrifice, especially one that was doomed to die.

"That's enough—"

Ryan snorted coldly. The henchmen following behind Ryan noticed the displeasure and impatience in Ryan's tone and shut their mouths without asking why, for fear that their noses would be smashed in the next second.

Ryan let out a long breath, glanced down at the shotgun in his hand, and tossed it behind him. The henchmen following behind Ryan were startled and immediately reached out in a flurry. The last one, a flat-nosed henchman, caught the shotgun.

"Don't forget, this gun is out of bullets. Without bullets, it's just a scary stick."

"Why don't we just snatch it from that Puss?" one of the henchmen suggested.

“Yeah! Let’s take the gun from him too!” Another henchman immediately raised his hands and laughed triumphantly. “A coward like him who doesn’t dare to shoot shouldn’t have a gun.”

“If you actually try to rob him, he will definitely shoot,” Ryan sneered.

The henchman who had suggested grabbing the gun shrank back, slowly lowering his raised hand. "Then, let's ambush them..."

"You want to ambush him? Or ambush him in a crowded place?" Ryan grinned. "Use your brain. Don't let a coward turn into a hysterical madman. Let the coward stay a coward, that's enough."

Although they didn't understand what Ryan was saying, the underlings knew it was time to applaud, so they all clapped.

"So, boss, what's the next step? Should we threaten them?"

Carly, do you want more guns and bullets?

Ryan narrowed his eyes, recalling Puss's furious gaze. His gaze fell on the shotgun in the flat-nosed henchman's hand. After a brief silence, he grinned, revealing a malicious smile.

"Of course, it's for Carly's best friend."

"Huh? Why?" The underlings all expressed their confusion, with the one with the flat nose hugging the shotgun tightly with a look of reluctance.

“There’s no use for those two broken sticks,” Ryan waved his hand. “They’re only of little use to us, but… if you’re willing to be sacrifices for the next wave of passion, I don’t mind letting you take care of them.”

Upon hearing that they would become sacrifices, the underlings' expressions changed drastically, and they quickly shook their heads.

“But those guys like Shirley aren’t so easy to fool,” the flat-nosed henchman quickly changed the subject.

"Just let them fight over it themselves."

Chapter 128 The Transferred Branches

decadent luxury

There is no place in the world more fitting for the term "glitz and glamour" than the Millennium Capital.

This was true three years ago, and it will be true three years from now.

Even if they're just going out for a stroll, they're all heavily made up, wearing the most luxurious jewelry and the most beautiful dresses, as if they're about to attend a grand ball. If it's just one or two people, they'll definitely become the center of attention, since it's just too extravagant. But if everyone does it, it creates an atmosphere that makes it seem like this is how it should be, and it's no longer about going to a ball, but about a grand ball in progress.

Then those normal people who don't dress up will become strange people, inexplicably bowing their heads.

When Li Yili first saw such a scene, she did feel a strange sense of inferiority, as if she had mistakenly entered a noble world that did not belong to her. Of course, this state only lasted for a few minutes. After all, it seemed that the residents of the capital city were mentally unstable. Why should she feel inferior just because others were mentally unstable?

After realizing what was happening, Li Yili even began to appreciate the "ecology" of the residents of the capital, Millennium. Even if someone gave him a strange look, he would look back at them with the same look. Fortunately, in this kind of staring contest, he was always the final winner. After all, the residents of the capital, Millennium, knew better than anyone that they were just clumsy imitations.

Three years have passed... and the fake is still fake, without any sign of becoming real.

Regardless of whether it's about appearances or manners.

Li Yili, with dead fish eyes, raised her middle finger at the elegantly dressed men and women pointing and whispering in her direction from the roadside. In order to please the lady, she deliberately spoke loudly, "Lower class first." The man behind her, whose eyes widened, gripped his cane tightly, cursed under his breath, and walked straight toward Li Yili with his head held high.

"Hey—you over there! Stop right there! What did you mean by that?! Do you even know where you are?!"

Li Yili looked around and yawned. "Um, I'm a graduate of Arkham College and was planning to make a return visit. By the way, I've completely forgotten where Arkham University is?"

Arkham University?

The man was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world. The people around him also stopped and laughed along with him.

Li Yili raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? What did you just say?" Annie gripped the handbrake of her wheelchair and turned to look at Ashley, who was fiddling with her bracelet, with an incredulous expression.

"Hmm? Ah~ Actually, I wanted to go to Arkham University this year, but Arkham University closed down."

"How is this possible?" Annie rubbed her forehead. "That's Arkham University... how could it just close down like that?"

Ashley blinked and tilted her head back to recall.

"I heard that many ongoing projects have run into problems, leading to a chain reaction of financial losses. Even the Church of Steam and Steel couldn't fill the hole and had to close Arkham University. Of course, many of Arkham University's affiliated schools also closed down. I heard from a friend that the Church of Steam and Steel also had internal financial problems because of the collapse of Arkham University. Many assets were left in stalled projects and couldn't be realized, so they tried to use the wasteland market to recoup their losses."

Anne's fingers, which were resting on her forehead, tightened slightly. "The wasteland royal family... never mind, don't worry about my silly question."

In the wasteland, the royal family and nobility of Arkham University and a series of colleges open to everyone are like a sword pointed straight at their throats, threatening not only their status but also that of their descendants. They would love for Arkham University and the other colleges to collapse, completely cutting off any chance for people outside the capital, Millennium, to climb the social ladder.