Chapter 192: The Mediator
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 192: The Mediator
A deathly, ice-cold silence descended upon the bar, which suddenly felt far too cramped.
Behind the thin veil of white smoke and the dim lighting, everyone stared at the man atop the bar counter with expressions of sheer horror, as if screaming internally, Am I fucking dreaming?
What did he just say?
Dogs?
He wants us to be his dogs?
Who does he think we are?
We are the gang leaders who rule the Lower District. Where did this guy even come from? What right does he have?
Crack.
In the silence, someone gripped their glass so hard it shattered. They were itching to draw their blade and butcher this arrogant brat who clearly didn't know his place.
Yet, despite the heavy atmosphere, not a single person dared to jump out and even spit at him.
Schulz was still staring at them, his severed head's eyes wide in a deathly, unyielding glare.
No one knew if this madman would suddenly fly into another killing spree the moment they voiced their opposition.
In the Lower District, a madman who acted without restraint was the most feared kind of person—especially when that madman possessed terrifying strength.
To this moment, no one had seen how the man had taken Schulz’s head. They hadn't even seen his weapon!
"Why is everyone so quiet? It’s not like I’m some man-eating beast."
One could hardly tell he had just ruthlessly decapitated a major gang leader. The man calling himself Bruce didn't have a single drop of blood on him. He casually pulled a bottle of the finest liquor from behind the bar and poured himself a glass.
He swirled the glass, watching their hideous expressions through the crystalline liquid. A grandfatherly, amiable smile played on his lips, as if he were a warm host entertaining honored guests.
"Come, speak your minds. If you have questions, feel free to ask. Time is tight, but I’m more than happy to answer them."
"You want to rule the entire Lower District?"
Finally, someone in the shadows couldn't hold back any longer. In a place like this, asking for a real name or face was pointless, so his question went straight to the heart of the matter.
"You want to be the Dark Emperor?"
"Heh, 'Dark Emperor.' What an edgy title."
Muen chuckled. "But if that’s how you want to think of it, then sure, let’s go with that."
"Based on what?"
"Hmm... killing Schulz wasn't enough?"
"It wasn't."
"Then what if... I add all of you to the list?"
A mocking smile curled on Muen’s lips. His tone was as casual as if he were talking about stepping on a few insignificant ants.
"If I add your lives to the scale... is that enough?"
"Are you... threatening us?" someone asked, their voice trembling—whether from fear or fury, it was hard to tell.
"That depends on your interpretation. You can take it as a threat, or you can take it as... a demonstration of power."
Outside, the guards brought by the various gang leaders had already surrounded the bar, sealing off every exit. Faint, ghostly chanting echoed through the air; the mages they had hired at great expense were ready to strike at a moment's notice.
Even with the elites brought by the Rat King, they couldn't possibly take on everyone.
It would only take a single command from anyone in the bar for this man to be instantly shredded into mincemeat by a storm of blades and magic.
Yet he merely shrugged with total indifference, seemingly oblivious to the thugs outside. He poured himself another glass and took a small, refined sip.
"Actually, I think the choice is quite simple. Since you house pets need a master anyway, why can't that master be me?"
That’s right.
Since they need a master regardless.
Why can't it be me?
With such plain words, Muen stated a truth that drove everyone to the brink of explosion.
"Enough!"
Suddenly, a majestic-looking old woman sitting in the corner slammed her hand on the table and stood up, roaring, "You insult us again and again! Do you really think we’re that good-tempered?"
"Insult?"
Muen stared at the old woman, looking genuinely puzzled. "When did I insult you?"
"You keep calling us—"
"Calling you house pets? No, no, no. That’s not an insult. I’m just stating a fact."
Muen’s gaze swept across their furious faces as he spoke mockingly, "Look at yourselves, gentlemen. The way you panic and lose sleep the moment there isn't a master holding your leashes... if you aren't house pets, what are you?
"Personally, I think the stray dogs scavenging in the trash heaps have more backbone than you lot."
Before he even finished, Muen felt more than one surge of killing intent radiating from the people before him.
But in the end, not a single person dared to draw a weapon or give the order to their subordinates outside.
Simply because Schulz’s corpse was right there.
Perhaps these people had once been the most vicious, terrifying beasts of the Lower District. But after sitting in high positions for so long—even going so far as to slip leashes over their own necks just to stabilize their status—they no longer had any spine to speak of.
They feared death more than anyone, just like Lorenzo before them.
How pathetic.
"Following your logic, I have a better idea," the old woman said suddenly.
"Oh?"
Muen narrowed his eyes, looking at the old woman who had spoken up again.
This person was...
Recalling the intelligence An had provided, Muen quickly identified her.
The Mediator.
In her youth, she had been the mistress of a high-ranking noble, giving her significant connections. After entering the Lower District, her neutral status—not joining any single faction—allowed her to act as the lubricant that eased friction between various powers.
Often, when major gangs had disputes, they would call upon her to mediate.
Thus, she was known as the Mediator and held immense prestige throughout the Lower District.
"I know everyone is feeling uneasy. Since that’s the case, why don't we take this opportunity to unite?"
The old woman straightened her back and tapped her cane against the floor. Her cold gaze swept over everyone; when it passed Muen, her eyes held a flicker of disdain.
"As long as we stand together—as long as the entire Lower District is united—I believe no storm can knock us down. Even this fellow, this man of unknown origin, is nothing more than a paper tiger! I don't believe that all of us together are no match for one man!"
"Then who will be the leader? Who will rule the Lower District?"
"No one will rule the Lower District, and there will be no Dark Emperor!"
The old woman raised her voice. "We can follow the example of the Noble Council and establish a fair Joint Council. The leaders of every gang can attend, and all matters will be decided through discussion and voting!
"By doing this, we will become the greatest power in all of Belland. Even those high-and-mighty noble lords won't be able to boss us around. We will step out from their shadows and make the Lower District of Belland truly ours!"