Alchemists do not need self-cultivation

"I'm sorry, boss." Benson's face was extremely grim, almost on the verge of tears. "I know this will affect future transactions, but I simply can't stand these scumbags living in this world..."

“That’s not what I was talking about!” Isaac roared. “What did you just say? ‘Misfire’? How could the guns we sell possibly misfire?! Even if we were selling a Stennin, it wouldn’t misfire, you know that!”

"..."

After reprimanding the bewildered Benson, Isaac turned to the underling who had led the way and smiled, "Sorry, could you pretend you didn't hear what my subordinate just said?"

"No... wait, he just killed our men!" he screamed.

"What do you want?"

"You must give us an explanation, or the leader will not let you off!"

"Really? Confess then." Isaac's smile vanished instantly. "I'll confess, you damn bastard."

"Bensen, do it."

"Okay!"

Benson grinned maliciously and, amidst their horrified gazes, picked up an assault rifle and began firing at the people in the room.

"what!"

"and many more……"

Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!

Before they could finish speaking, their bodies were pierced with several holes, and they collapsed into a pool of blood.

"Wilson, go in and rescue them." Isaac gave the order swiftly, and took out a communicator from his pocket. "All squad members, gather at the original trading location with your equipment."

"Yes!" came the immediate reply from the communicator.

Isaac and George also stepped over the body, intending to go inside and take a look.

The deeper George went, the more horrified he became. Most of the children locked up inside were no more than twelve years old. How could those bastards do such a thing!

Then a room appeared in front of them, with blood seeping out from under the door.

Just as George was about to open the door, a girl with lifeless eyes, locked in a cage, suddenly spoke up: "Don't go in."

"what?"

"My sisters... all slept inside, and never came out again."

"..."

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.

Outside, George's complexion still hadn't improved; his already weathered face now held an even greater sorrow.

He stood still and asked Isaac, "Isaac, can I ask you a question?"

"what?"

“I’ve always believed that war brings disaster to humanity, so no war is definitely the best outcome,” George said, gazing at the blood and severed limbs on the ground. “So I accept being targeted by anti-war activists, but…”

"But I don't understand, is a place without war necessarily paradise?"

Isaac paused for a moment, then turned to look ahead.

“George, human society is an extremely complex system that is beyond my comprehension.”

"So, this question is beyond the scope of the curriculum."

George remained silent. He couldn't understand why such a thing could happen in this civilized society. Even at his age, what he had witnessed today would be unforgettable.

Isaac looked at George and silently lit a cigarette for himself.

At that moment, that familiar female voice echoed in Isaac's mind again.

"Sorry, just for today, let me have one more cigarette."

Violet.

Chapter 519: Arrangements

All of Isaac's men assembled, gathering around the gang from which the deal had been made.

Some gangsters carrying guns were patrolling outside when suddenly a soldier with a cable around his waist descended from the sky, covered his mouth and nose, and slashed his neck with a dagger.

The blood splattered out, killing him instantly; the gangster's body went limp in an instant.

"The area around the building has been cleared, and we can proceed with the next step of the plan," the soldier said quietly, pulling down the microphone on his helmet.

"learn."

Upon receiving the communication, the soldiers on the perimeter pulled up their masks and gathered neatly at the entrance of the building.

The leader stuck the explosives to the door, while he and the rest of the men leaned against the wall.

"3, 2, 1..."

boom!!

With a loud explosion, the door was blown open by the explosives.

"Go! Go! Go!"

The moment the door exploded, the soldiers quickly moved inside, grabbed their guns, and opened fire on all the living creatures inside.

The leader was chatting and laughing with his men, joking that Isaac would be horrified when he saw the bloody scenes.

Before he could finish speaking, the door was blown open. Soldiers swarmed in and opened fire on the people inside.

"and many more!"

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang...

Before he could even understand what had happened, all his men fell in a hail of bullets almost instantly.

"Did the boss say to leave one survivor?"

"It seems like they didn't say."

"Okay, do it."

As the soldiers approached him, the once arrogant leader, who even looked down on Isaac, was so frightened that his mouth began to tremble.

"Who...who are you?"

"Our boss asked us to say hello to you."

boom!

A bullet pierced the leader's forehead, and his pupils lost their luster the moment he was shot.

In just a few minutes, a Romanian gang was wiped out.

Of course, gangs are just gangs after all, and cannot be compared to a group of soldiers who have been through war and are fully armed.

The lead soldier took out a communicator and said, "Boss, all targets have been eliminated. Please give instructions."

"very good."

Isaac, who was now two blocks away, praised, "Clean up the scene, grab the weapons you sold them earlier, and head southeast."

"learn."

……

Isaac turned off the communicator and looked at George and the others.

From this sinful building, Benson found dozens of little girls imprisoned inside. Their faces were filled with despair, which broke the hearts of both George and Benson.

That's not the look of a child at all!

"Boss, take a look at this."

Benson, his face grim, handed a document to Isaac; his hands were still trembling.

"Ok?"

Isaac took the documents and glanced at them casually.

Some of these girls were taken by these gangs to film torture and murder movies, while others were to be sold as export products to several overseas countries, such as Japan and Germany.

The document also contained several photos of the girl who had died in the dungeon—charred corpses, impaled alive—all images that made one want to vomit.

"Destroy them all; we can't let them circulate underground."

“Yes.” Benson set the disgusting documents aside. “What about these children?”

Upon hearing this, Isaac looked at the little girls. Having been raised like livestock, they had long lost hope for the future, and even after being rescued, they felt no emotional turmoil.

This country is in a period of turmoil. They are already orphans, and even if they are sent to other welfare institutions, there will be no good outcome. Moreover, without legal status, they will not be accepted by any country.

To be honest, dealing with this was an extremely thankless and exhausting task, but Isaac never wanted such a young child to be plunged into darkness.

This was also the last act of perseverance from a villain like Isaac.

“Boss…” Benson looked at Isaac with some concern.

He worried that his decisive boss would simply abandon the project altogether.

“Don’t worry, I don’t have the habit of doing things halfway. Now that we’ve rescued them, I naturally have a plan for what to do next.” Isaac rubbed his temples. “Let’s use that gang’s house as our base for now, settle them there, and then we’ll sell the weapons we need. We’ll figure out what to do next.”

"Yes."

This is the only way to handle it for now.

Isaac can only think of two solutions at the moment.

1. Seek help directly from international humanitarian organizations.

2. I might as well build my own country.

Of course, the second one is just a thought and cannot be implemented normally at present, while the first one is relatively reliable.

Wilson had recovered by then. The vomiting had left him a little weak, and although his face was still a bit pale, he was still able to hold on.

The previous team members also arrived here one after another.

Taking the children with them, they continued their journey back. Upon hearing of the poor little girls' plight, these hot-blooded soldiers were all filled with righteous indignation and wanted to return to continue their desecration of the corpses.

After settling the children in, they were finally able to get a good night's sleep.

Wilson walked over to Isaac and whispered, "Boss, you could try asking your father for help."