Chapter 167: Snapping the Flower
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 167: Snapping the Flower
“Is this the taste of power? Simply exquisite.”
In a dim alleyway on the edge of the Lower District, Muen walked with a light step, idly tossing a metal container in his hand. A delighted smile played across his lips.
Thinking back on his trip to the black market, he realized he hadn't spent a single cent, aside from the tip he gave that seductive woman. Yet, despite his frugality, he had obtained both the Tear of True Love and the Ancient Dragon Heart Blood.
Was there any better way to score a freebie in this world?
So this is what it’s like to be a Duke’s son? I could get used to this.
He couldn't speak for other places yet, but in the Lower District, Muen’s status allowed him to truly command the winds and the clouds. With a single stomp of his foot, the entire district would tremble.
“I should come here more often. Especially the black market—that place is a gold mine.”
Though there was still a certain debt to settle with the market...
Whatever. I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll let that shady merchant off the hook for now.
I’ll just come back later and give her a good thrashing!
With that thought, Muen’s pace grew even more buoyant.
It was already well into the early hours of the morning. The bright lights in the distance had dimmed considerably; it seemed the Guard Squad’s operation was drawing to a close. At this hour, returning to the Academy was out of the question.
“I’ll just find a random inn to crash in for the night.”
Muen scanned the sides of the street, only to find that every establishment had a "Closed" sign hanging out front. Perhaps the commotion in the Lower District tonight had been too much; even the couple's suites that usually stayed open twenty-four hours a day had their doors and windows tightly shut.
“Looks like I’ll have to find a place in the Upper District.”
Muen gave a wry smile, muttering a curse at his own self-inflicted predicament, and began walking toward the Tower Bridge.
He was still some distance from the bridge, but the breeze from the riverbank was already whistling through the narrow streets, bringing a biting chill. The moon ducked behind a layer of clouds, and the world suddenly plunged into darkness. The surrounding buildings transformed into pitch-black silhouettes, stabbing into the sky like the fingers of demons.
Muen suddenly came to a halt.
He tucked the container holding the Ancient Dragon Heart Blood into his top-tier spatial container. As his gaze swept across the thickening mist, his expression gradually turned grim.
He smelled blood on the breeze.
Then, he heard footsteps. More than one pair.
Shadowy figures emerged from the fog at the end of the alley. They walked with heavy treads, as if they had just survived a brutal battle. Their armor, flickering with a faint blue glimmer, was splattered with blood and filth.
The man in the lead still wore a hideous, contorted expression. His eyes burned like fire, and blood dripped from the long blade gripped in his hand, as if he still harbored an unquenchable, violent aura.
The Red Fire Gang?
Lorenzo?
Muen’s eyelids twitched. He cursed his luck inwardly. The Lower District is massive—how the hell did I run into them here?
However, he was long accustomed to his own poor luck, so he regained his composure quickly. He recognized Lorenzo, but Lorenzo didn't know him. The man had just barely escaped the Guard Squad with his life; he should be at his most exhausted. He surely wouldn't be stupid enough to provoke a lavishly dressed young master at a time like this.
Muen steadied his breathing and walked forward silently, pretending not to notice them.
Lorenzo and his men were equally silent. They paid no mind to Muen as he passed. It seemed the night's events had left them utterly drained, both physically and mentally.
In the narrow alley, Muen and Lorenzo’s group crossed paths.
Out of the corner of his eye, Muen observed them. Compared to before, only about a third of their number remained. Most were wounded. Lorenzo’s confidant had even lost an entire arm at the shoulder, though he was man enough to keep his teeth gritted without making a sound.
However, at the very back of the group, Muen noticed two men who weren't covered in blood. They seemed to have joined the group later. They were carrying a burlap sack between them; something living was squirming inside, letting out low, muffled sobs.
A person?
Muen’s fist clenched instinctively, and his eyes narrowed.
These bastards... even in this state, they didn't forget to kidnap someone?
Absolute scum.
Muen took a deep breath, suppressing his rage for the moment. They had the numbers; it wasn't wise to be impulsive.
I’ll just report them again in a minute. I refuse to believe those useless sacks of meat in the Guard Squad can't take them down when they're this battered!
Muen looked straight ahead, eyes fixed on the path. He was about to clear the group entirely, and his pace quickened slightly.
Almost there.
Just a few more steps and I’ll be clear...
“Wait. You there, kid...”
In the silent night, the voice rang out with startling clarity. Lorenzo had spoken, calling Muen to a halt.
“Are you... talking to me?”
Muen turned his head, forcing a stiff smile onto his face.
“Who else would I be talking to? A ghost?”
Lorenzo turned around as well. He thrust his sheathless blade into the ground, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, leisurely lit it, and took a long drag. He was a heavy smoker, usually feeling miserable if he didn't go through several packs a day, but this was his first cigarette of the night.
He inhaled deeply and deliberately. The acrid, aromatic smoke swirled through his lungs before slowly drifting out of his mouth, nose, and even his ears.
Combined with his bloodshot eyes, he looked...
Angry. The kind of angry where smoke literally pours out of you.
“Kid, do you think... I’m an idiot?” Lorenzo sucked the cigarette down to the butt in a single breath and spat it out with a wet ptui.
“Huh?”
Muen blinked, his smile wavering. “What are you talking about, big brother? I don't follow. Have we met?”
“Ha! Still playing dumb.”
Lorenzo laughed, but the smile vanished instantly. In its place came a wave of unparalleled fury.
It was like a mask-changing act; Muen didn't even see the transition. In a split second, a wall of pure hatred and rage slammed into him.
“Kid, you’re the one who played dirty tonight and called the Guard Squad on us, aren't you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Muen tried his best to look serious. “I’m just a noble son passing through.”
However, a slight tremor in his pinky finger betrayed the flicker of panic in his heart. How does this guy know?
“Heh, a noble son...”
Lorenzo scanned Muen’s extravagant clothing. As if realizing something, he paused, then gritted his teeth.
“In that case, Number Eighty-Eight was you as well!”
There weren't that many coincidences in the world, just like this encounter. It was impossible for that auction to have attracted two different "big fish" at once.
“I really don't know what you’re talking about. I’m just passing by!”
“Ha! Ha! Ha! ‘Passing by.’ What a lovely excuse!”
Lorenzo laughed three times, but his expression remained murderous.
“Look at this.”
He raised his hand. Strands of red thread, looking like congealed blood, drifted from his palm. The thread extended further and further until the end stopped right next to Muen’s hand, circling around as if searching for something.
Muen froze, then realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
Damn it. The container for the Ancient Dragon Heart Blood was rigged. That’s how he tracked me! I shouldn't have taken it out to play with it just now!
“What is this? The Red String of Fate? You’ve got the wrong guy; I’m not into dudes!”
Muen frantically swiped the red thread away and turned to bolt.
He only made it a few steps before stopping. At the end of the alley, the elites of the Red Fire Gang emerged from the darkness, gripping blood-stained blades and blocking his path with cruel grins.
There are more of them?
Muen’s eyes widened as he did a quick count. Although these men were wounded, their total number hadn't decreased at all compared to when the gang was surrounded by the Guard Squad!
Damn it, those tax-leeching bastards! Are they really that useless? They couldn't even kill one of them! I’m going to file a formal complaint against those failures when I get back!
But Muen didn't have time to dwell on the corruption of the Guard Squad. Compared to them, his current crisis was far more severe. Lorenzo had intentionally pretended not to recognize him at first just to lure him into this trap!
Now, in this narrow alley, he had nowhere to run.
“Kid, you have the Ancient Dragon Heart Blood. Don't bother lying. That thread is designed to track the blood; it doesn't make mistakes. Hand it over, and I’ll give you a quick death.”
Lorenzo drew his long blade again, the steel glinting with a chilling light.
“In your dreams.”
Since things had come to this, Muen stopped pretending. He scanned the perimeter for a weak point to break through while sneering, “I’m supposed to do whatever you say? How embarrassing would that be? Besides, you really think you’ve got me cornered?”
They were just a bunch of Lower District gangsters. Muen felt he still had a chance to escape.
“Ha, you’ve got spine. In that case, I’ll give you... oh, excuse me, I’ll give my dear Number Eighty-Eight a little gift.” Lorenzo suddenly started laughing—a genuine laugh this time, as if something delightful was about to happen.
“A gift?”
“Do you know where we just came from? The black market. Is there any better place to hide from the Guard Squad? But, as luck would have it, I found a little surprise there. I thought it might be useful, so I took a risk and snatched it up. Ha! Who would’ve thought I’d get to use it so soon?”
Lorenzo clapped his hands. The two men who weren't covered in blood stepped forward, carrying the burlap sack.
The person inside was still moaning and sobbing softly, but they had stopped struggling, lying there like a lump of resigned clay.
“What is this supposed to mean? Who’s in there?”
Muen’s face darkened. He had a terrible premonition. He didn't know who was in the bag, but the sound of the voice and the faint curves visible through the fabric felt like an invisible hand squeezing his heart.
“Who is it? Hehe, why don't you see for yourself?”
Lorenzo untied the rope at the mouth of the sack, and the person curled inside slid out.
It was a woman.
Disheveled black hair spilled across the ground. She faced Muen, her face so battered and bruised it was a gruesome sight, though traces of heavy makeup were still visible. Sensing the breeze from the river, she tried to open her eyes, but they were swollen shut by hematomas. She could only see a blurry silhouette through the narrowest of slits.
“Sir... is that you?”
She couldn't see clearly, and she couldn't hear well, but she sensed the familiarity of the person standing frozen nearby. She forced a raspy voice from her throat, so low it was like the buzz of a mosquito, yet it reached Muen’s ears with agonizing clarity. “Run... please run... these people... are looking for you... they’re... dangerous...”
“You—”
Muen’s brain felt like it had exploded.
Of course he recognized her. She was the seductive beauty he had met by chance at the auction.
That was all it was—a chance encounter. Their connection amounted to her massaging his shoulders and him giving her a tip large enough to change her life.
But as he looked at her now, the world seemed to fall silent. Only one thing she had said echoed in his mind.
“Sir, I want to be a teacher.”
That’s right. He had given her a fortune. She should have left the black market, left the auction house, and applied to Greyline Women's Academy. She should have been on her way to becoming a teacher under the bright sun, fulfilling her dream.
So why was she here? Why was she in Lorenzo’s hands?
“Kid, did you really think so little of us rats in the Lower District? Did you think you could just play with us as you pleased?”
“It really is a shame.”
Lorenzo grabbed the woman’s chin, inspecting her nearly unrecognizable face.
“She was quite pretty. I didn't want to be this rough, but she wouldn't say a word. If I hadn't marked the Ancient Dragon Heart Blood beforehand, you might have actually gotten away.”
“She doesn't know anything!” Muen snapped back to reality, roaring in fury. “She has nothing to do with me!”
“Is that so?”
Lorenzo looked taken aback, then feigned confusion. “But I heard she spent ten minutes in your room and came out with a mountain of cash. If you didn't have a thing for her, why would you be so generous?”
I was being watched even then?
Muen’s hand trembled, but he continued, “I have money! Is that a crime? I’ll give my money to whoever the hell I want! If I’m in a good mood, I’ll buy a house for a beggar on the street!”
“I see. Fair enough. The logic of the rich is hard to grasp sometimes.”
Lorenzo yanked the woman up by her hair. Her body swayed limply, like a weed in the wind. She let out a low cry of pain, yet she continued to mutter "run, run" like a fool.
She was the one about to lose her life, yet she was worried about him.
“This is so touching it makes me want to vomit. You tossed her some cash like she was a beggar, but it seems she developed some feelings for you.”
Lorenzo pressed his blade against her throat, a hideous grin on his face.
“And it seems I didn't grab the wrong person after all, kid. You look pretty angry right now. What’s wrong? Is that pathetic conscience of yours acting up?”
“What do you want?”
Muen took a deep breath, pushing down the frantic agitation and forcing himself to stay calm. “You want the Ancient Dragon Heart Blood? I’ll give it to you.”
“Oh? You’d hand it over that easily for a woman you claim has nothing to do with you?”
“A life is at stake. It’s just some dragon blood; it’s not worth more than a human life to me.”
“A life is at stake? Tsk, tsk. Spoken like a true high-born noble. Only someone like you could say something so naive. To me, a life is the cheapest thing in the world.”
The blade pressed harder against the woman’s neck, leaving a thin red line on her pale skin. With just a little more pressure, her fragile life would be snuffed out.
But Lorenzo didn't stop. He just watched the boy, savoring the anger and helplessness in his eyes. Seeing that expression was the most beautiful thing in the world to him; it washed away all the frustration he had accumulated throughout the night.
“Stop! Stop it right now!”
Seeing the blood drip from her neck, a fire ignited in Muen’s chest. He became feral with rage. “I command you to stop!”
“Command?” Lorenzo laughed disdainfully. “By what right do you command me?”
“By this!”
In his desperation, Muen didn't care about the consequences. He pulled out his infallible family crest. The design of the Dragon-Slaying Sword was like a literal blade hanging over their heads. Lorenzo’s sneer froze instantly.
“I am the son of Duke Campbell, Muen Campbell!”
Muen shouted, his voice sharp and commanding, “Lorenzo, I order you to release her! If you let her go, I can act as if this never happened. But if you continue, you know exactly what will happen. With one word, I can make you and the Red Fire Gang vanish from the face of this earth!”
“Cam... Campbell?”
Staring straight at the crest in Muen’s hand, Lorenzo’s body began to shake. One of the first things you learned in the underworld was to recognize the crests of the nobility. No one in the world would dare fake the Campbell name. With one look, he knew it was the real deal.
The person standing before him was actually the only son of the legendary Duke Campbell—Muen Campbell!
Lorenzo felt like he was about to black out.
A Duke!
The title was so high above him it was unreachable. The rats of the Lower District could work their entire lives and never even see the shadow of such a man. But now, the representative of that name was standing right there. Lorenzo hadn't just seen his shadow; he had spat on his shoes and put nails in his path!
He had provoked the son of a Duke!
“Cam... Young Master Campbell? I... I thought... at most... you were a Viscount’s son... but a... a Duke?”
The color drained from Lorenzo’s face. His sadistic pleasure vanished, replaced by bottomless terror and regret. His features crumpled, and his body hunched over as if he wanted to crawl on the ground and kiss Muen’s boots.
“That’s right. I am the future Duke!”
“What you said... if I let her go... you won't pursue this... is it true?”
Lorenzo stammered, his hand trembling as he lowered the blade. This man, who was so formidable in the Lower District, was nothing more than a lowly ant before the son of a Duke. He looked like he couldn't even hold his sword steady.
Seeing the dangerous blade finally leave the woman’s neck, Muen finally exhaled. “Of course it’s true. I swear on the honor of the Campbells. If you release her, I will never—”
Muen’s oath was cut short.
It was interrupted by a wet thwack.
In the deepening, icy night.
Amidst the spray of warm blood.
Muen’s eyes flew open. He stared blankly as the man who had just been paralyzed with fear suddenly twisted his face into a mask of pure madness. Lorenzo gripped his long blade with both hands and—
Drove it through the woman’s frail body.
Like a flower being snapped in half.
“You think I’d believe you? You think I’d believe a hypocritical noble like you?”
Lorenzo’s eyes were flooded with bloodlust. He roared with a manic intensity, then burst into laughter.
“Listen up, boys! If we don't kill this Duke’s son today, not a single one of us is getting out of here alive!”