Chapter 195: First, Let You... Die.
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 195: First, Let You... Die.
Under the shroud of the pitch-black night, a sudden, searing blaze erupted, illuminating nearly half the district.
The deafening roar of explosions and the bellows of rioters jolted the sleeping citizens awake. Yet, the common folk didn't even dare to steal a glance. They simply huddled beneath their quilts, shivering as they prayed to the Goddess for peace.
But the Goddess does not look upon everyone with favor.
"Bastards! What do you think you're doing?!"
At the headquarters of the Red Fire Gang, the newly appointed leader, Lei Long—who had only taken his seat yesterday—stood with his bleary-eyed subordinates. His eyes were bloodshot as he confronted the numerous figures emerging from the dust and ruins. He ground his teeth. "You dare launch a surprise attack on the Red Fire Gang? Are you trying to start a gang war?"
"War? No, this isn't a war. You think too highly of yourselves."
Atop a section of wall that had been blasted into rubble by powerful magic, a dwarf-like, stunted figure appeared. His gaze swept over the courtyard surrounded by fire, a sneer of savage mockery twisting his rat-like face. "This is a massacre!"
"Rat King?"
At the sight of the figure on the low wall, Lei Long’s pupils constricted. He quickly suppressed his panic, letting out a cold, harsh laugh. "A massacre? With just your Rat Society?"
If the Rat Society had tried kidnapping, assassination, or poisoning, he might have had a headache. But a frontal assault? Did these rats, who spent their days hiding in the shadows and shooting arrows from the dark, really think they could stand tall?
"Who said... it was just the Rat Society?" Sam’s sneer deepened.
As his words fell, more figures emerged beside him. And with every new figure that appeared, Lei Long’s face grew a shade paler.
"The Three-Headed Dog..."
"The Brotherhood..."
"The Trading House..."
Lei Long’s lips trembled as he recited the names of the factions represented by each figure. The more he spoke, the harder it became to believe. "Why... why would you all join forces?"
Was this a joke? These people usually spent their time either violating each other's female relatives or hacking each other to death. Now they were gathered here, and by the looks of it, they were getting along quite peacefully?
Am I dreaming? What the hell happened overnight?
"I was just saying earlier that it felt wrong not to invite the Red Fire Gang. Now it seems something really is off." Frangi of the Three-Headed Dog stepped forward, his eyes locking onto Lei Long. "Where’s Lorenzo? Why don't I see him? And it looks like your gang's elites are spread a bit thin, aren't they?"
"None of your damn business!" Lei Long roared back. "Boss Lorenzo is just busy with—"
"Lorenzo is dead."
A calm voice cut through Lei Long’s roar. "Along with dozens of the Red Fire Gang's top elites. All dead."
"Bullshit! The Boss is—" Lei Long turned his gaze toward the man in the formal suit who had suddenly appeared, but his rebuttal died in his throat.
His heart began to race, and a faint sense of dread coiled in his chest like a venomous snake. He noticed that the moment this man appeared, both the gang leaders and the armed thugs below fell silent in unison.
Just as a wolf pack falls silent when the Alpha howls, this man became the center of gravity the instant he arrived. As his words settled, the thugs began to relish the coming fight, as if they believed this man was simply above lying. Even without a detailed explanation, everyone accepted it as fact.
Lorenzo was dead.
"Who are you?" Unconsciously, a hint of terror crept into Lei Long’s voice. How had he never heard of someone capable of commanding such respect from all these gangs?
Muen did not answer. There was no need to give his name to a dead man.
His gaze swept across the courtyard, then toward the fires rising from the docks along the Gulain River in the distance. Finally, his eyes circled back across half the city to settle on the indignant, humiliated Lei Long, his mind constantly calculating.
As expected, the news of him killing dozens of Red Fire elites had been suppressed. It made sense; he was the son of a Duke, after all. Killing dozens of people in the street would damage the Duke's reputation, so the Duke's Estate would certainly move to cover it up. And the Red Fire Gang wouldn't want to broadcast their humiliation either.
Everything was going according to plan. But the only problem was...
"It's too quiet," Muen murmured under his breath. "So quiet that they seem like a perfectly normal gang."
"What?" The Rat King looked over, confused. An explosion had gone off at that moment, preventing him from hearing Muen clearly.
"I said," Muen replied, "continue."
With those nonchalant words, the fate of one of the Lower District's largest gangs was sealed.
The offensive resumed.
Even without Lorenzo and dozens of elites, the Red Fire Gang still had enough foundation to maintain its status in the Lower District. But it could not withstand the combined assault of several major factions.
The thugs charged forward, brandishing their blades with excitement. Crossbow bolts from high vantage points harvested lives one by one. The mages in the ranks quickly dismantled the formations protecting the courtyard. Secret rooms were kicked open, and massive amounts of treasure, glittering with eye-searing gold, were hauled out in chests. Anyone who stood in the way was ruthlessly cut down.
The Red Fire Gang retreated step by step, shrinking toward their inner sanctum.
The body count rose. Under the Red Fire Gang's unnaturally fierce resistance, the coalition began to suffer significant casualties as well. This roughly fell within acceptable limits, but it infuriated the Rat King, who had been hoping to put on a good show. He urged his subordinates to launch even more violent attacks.
Corpses began to pile up; blood began to flow.
The flowing blood gradually formed eerie patterns on the ground, resembling both a child's crude doodles and the sinister sigils used to summon demons.
Yet, under Muen’s cold observation, nothing happened. Only the tragic wails of the dying echoed through the night sky, a testament to this demonic work.
"Did I guess wrong?" Muen’s hand tightened around his cane, a flicker of irritation rising in his heart.
But then, he noticed something strange.
In the interplay of the dark night and the bright firelight, the shadows of all things danced like grotesque demons. It was difficult to spot anything unusual. However, when he lowered his gaze and looked closely, he saw that the bloodstains faintly outlining the strange patterns on the ground were gradually fading.
Blood doesn't evaporate or dry that quickly. Which meant... was it going underground?
Muen tapped the ground with his cane and looked up. He happened to see a figure from the desperately resisting Red Fire Gang sneakily breaking away from the front lines.
Muen’s eyes flickered as he considered his options. "Sam."
"Here." Hearing the summons, the Rat King immediately suppressed his fury and hurried over.
"Are the things I gave you ready?"
"Of course," the Rat King replied instantly. At the thought of the items Muen had given him, his heart burned with unprecedented fervor. His gaze toward Muen became even more respectful. "They are in position and ready for use at any time."
"Good." Muen adjusted his hat. His body turned into a fleeting shadow, bypassing the battling thugs to pursue the sneaking figure. Only his cold voice remained in the Rat King’s ear. "Gather your men and wait for my command."
"Yes." In the darkness, the Rat King bowed his head in respectful response.
*
"Damn it! Why? Why did those gangs go crazy and attack us? And together?!"
In the basement, a figure stumbled forward. His face was etched with bone-deep hatred, his eyes bloodshot—or rather, only one eye was. The other was a mess of flowing blood and a ruptured, hanging eyeball. A stray arrow had struck him in the chaos; if the defensive formation hadn't weakened the bolt's force, it would have pierced his skull instead of just his eye.
"Damn it, damn it all! And how did the news of Lorenzo’s death leak? Is there a traitor? No, all non-core members of the gang should have been purged."
Countless questions swirled in Lei Long’s mind. Fear and rage filled his heart, making him grit his teeth, wishing he could kill someone right now to vent his frustration.
He had finally, finally made it to the top. He had waited for that arrogant bastard Lorenzo to kick the bucket so he could take the leader's seat. But before he could enjoy a single day of the good life, everything—the entire Red Fire Gang—was turning to ash. How could he not hate?
"It’s not over yet! It’s not over!" Lei Long punched the wall, letting out a low, furious growl. "This can't end like this!"
Beyond the narrow corridor, the space suddenly opened up. A vast room appeared in his vision, and along with it...
Corpses. Corpses. Corpses.
Shriveled bodies hung from the ceiling like a forest, swaying and spinning naturally under the pull of gravity. Creak, creak. Whenever they spun to face him, he saw faces filled with loathing, despair, and misery.
Some were still alive. Their dull pupils rolled uneasily, following the living man who had entered the room. Their cracked lips moved, emitting blurred, eerie moans. Every single one of them had been sliced open at the abdomen, revealing viscera densely covered in membranes. Blood flowed from them. Drip, drop.
It wasn't just from them; more blood seeped from the ceiling. Drip, drop. It fell into a pool filled with foul-smelling blood. The pool bubbled constantly, as if shadows were swimming within.
"Geros, don't look at me! Don't look at me!"
"I didn't kill you! I only held you down!"
"And Mael, why wouldn't you submit to the Lord? We were brothers who ate and drank together. Wouldn't it be better to seek immortality together?"
"Wenlanka, you bitch! So what if you were carrying my child? How dare you threaten me? How dare you?!"
Lei Long walked into the vast room, not daring to look up and meet the dull eyes following him. These people included street beggars, abandoned prostitutes, and displaced vagrants. But more of them were... "companions" from the Red Fire Gang.
Many of those who had once called him brother—including his own wife—had been personally sent here by Lei Long during the recent purge.
But there was no other way! No other way! All of this... all of this was necessary to reach immortality! Lorenzo had failed; he had lost the Lord's favor. So, the one qualified for immortality... was him! It was Lei Long!
"The Lord! The Lord!" Lei Long crossed the path through the center of the blood pool and reached the very heart of the room.
On a circular platform, a pitch-black heart beat slowly. Lei Long knelt before the heart, kowtowing repeatedly. "The Lord! The day of the Red Fire Gang's destruction, as you prophesied, has arrived! Please, please grant me immortality! Grant me infinite Sacred Power!"
The black heart squirmed. An eye appeared within the texture of the membranes, looking down at Lei Long with cold indifference. After a moment, a delicate, cold voice rang out.
"Granted."
"Thank you, Lord! Thank you, Lord!" Overjoyed, Lei Long kowtowed a few more times before eagerly rising to pick up the heart with trembling care.
The eye on the heart had closed, but it still looked hideous. It was beating as if it were alive, yet it felt ice-cold in his palm.
"Finally! I can finally live forever!"
Ha, haha! Lorenzo, we fought for so long, but in the end, I’m the winner! Even if the Red Fire Gang is gone and I have to start from scratch, as long as I have immortality and the Lord's blessing, there’s nothing I can't get!
With shaking hands, Lei Long slowly brought the heart to his mouth. If he ate it—if he just ate this heart—he would have everything! He would have—
"My dear sir, you shouldn't just go around eating random things."
A voice laced with faint mockery drifted over. In the previously empty room, a figure wearing a black formal hat suddenly materialized.
"Who?!" Lei Long was struck with terror. He was certain he hadn't been followed. How?
"As you can see." Muen stood a short distance away, pressing down on his hat. He tilted his chin up, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just a passing ordinary citizen."
"You! It's you!" Lei Long recognized him. He recognized the man for whom all the gang leaders had willingly bowed their heads.
Unease spread through his heart. Without hesitation, Lei Long tried to shove the heart into his mouth.
But he failed.
To his horror, the heart—along with his hands—flew away from him, falling toward the floor.
"What?"
Blood erupted from the smooth stumps at his wrists. Only then did he realize his hands had been severed clean off.
"Didn't I tell you?" Nearby, Muen toyed with a pure white short blade and let out a whistle. "You shouldn't eat unhygienic things."
"You want to stop me from gaining immortality too?!" Lei Long screamed in rage. The agonizing pain of his severed hands surged through his nerves into his brain, but he seemed entirely oblivious to it. He suddenly ignored the falling heart and charged at Muen.
"Are you insane?" Muen frowned slightly, spinning Elizabeth in his palm.
He was prepared to take the man's head immediately to avoid further complications, but at that moment, the death warning in his mind began to blare. It wasn't intense, but it was enough to put Muen on high alert. He immediately pulled back, sidestepping.
A silver needle shot from Lei Long’s mouth, grazing Muen’s cheek. But that was clearly just a feint; taking advantage of Muen’s dodge, Lei Long twisted his body in a bizarre fashion and lunged for the heart again.
He doesn't even have hands, how is he going to eat it? Muen wondered, but in the next instant, his expression turned to one of shock.
Lei Long’s coat suddenly tore open. From his squirming flesh, a brand-new arm burst forth, reaching for the heart.
"Damn it, is growing a third arm a mandatory skill for you cultists now?"
Muen’s eyes darkened. A searing heat radiated from his back as a massive amount of mana was poured into the alchemy core.
Time Dilation, ten-fold, activate...
It didn't activate.
In that split second, a hideous mouth suddenly opened on the black heart. The mouth let out a roar, and a deafening sonic wave instantly rippled outward.
All of Muen’s actions were interrupted. He could only watch as Lei Long swallowed the heart. The fist-sized heart was gulped down whole; Muen could even see the man's neck bulge as it went down.
Unfortunately, he didn't choke.
Under Muen’s increasingly grim gaze, Lei Long’s face turned bright red as he cheered in excitement. "Finally! I finally succeeded! I have the Lord's Sacred Power! I have immortality! Immort—"
The cheer didn't last long. The excitement on his face vanished instantly. Following that was a pain far exceeding the loss of his hands, causing his expression to warp violently.
"Wh... what?"
Lei Long’s entire body began to convulse violently. Pitch-black veins spread from his torso, instantly reaching his neck, limbs, and face. In a heartbeat, he became hideously bloated, like a ball of flesh that could explode at any moment.
"This is... this is..." As if sensing something, Lei Long’s eyes filled with absolute terror. "This isn't Sacred Power! This isn't Sacred Power! The Lord, you lied to me! Lord, you lied—to—me..."
His final words distorted as they were dragged out, because a pair of slender hands suddenly reached out from his throat, prying his jaws wide.
"Holy shit, what is this, some Orochimaru move?" Muen couldn't help but blurt out a snarky comment..
But what followed was far less aesthetic than anything in an anime. Those hands grabbed Lei Long’s upper and lower jaws and—tore.
With the sickening sound of ripping flesh, the tear went from the corners of his mouth to his cheeks, then to his ears... then his neck, his arms, his flanks.
Amidst fear and despair, Lei Long was torn in half alive. From the mist of blood and shredded meat, an exquisitely seductive woman rose to her feet. She still clutched the two halves of Lei Long’s corpse, greedily inhaling the dissipating blood mist. Her face, covered in flamboyant makeup, was filled with ecstasy.
"What a fool. Even I haven't attained immortality yet; what makes you think you're worthy?" Licking her red lips as if she hadn't had enough, she tossed the two halves of the corpse aside and looked at Muen.
"Surprise~ Were you scared, Muen Campbell? This big gift I prepared specifically for you... Huh? You're not Muen Campbell?"
The Banshee looked at the completely transformed Muen in confusion, but she soon broke into a giggling laugh. "No, you are Muen Campbell. That furious look in your eyes can't be faked."
My eyes? Muen closed his eyes, calmed his emotions, and then looked back at the Banshee. "I didn't expect you to show up here in person... No."
Muen noticed something off about her. Her aura was much weaker than when they first met. "This is... an avatar?"
"Oh my, how sharp. Yes, it's just an avatar." The Banshee didn't care about revealing her weakness. "As you can see, this avatar only has about half the strength of my main body. Even you should be able to defeat it, right?"
"Heh, I'm really being looked down on." Muen gave a self-deprecating smile and tightened his grip on Elizabeth.
"It can't be helped. My main body really wanted to play with you herself, but she's currently being tied down by those mad dogs from the Silence Bureau. So, she could only send me to play with you. And..." The Banshee gave a sudden, eerie smile. "I've never looked down on you. In fact, I'm more wary of you than anyone."
"What do you mean..." Muen started to ask, but before he could finish, his pupils shrank.
He felt... a disturbance.
Thump. Thump.
The figures hanging from the ceiling began to shake violently. Then, the ropes suddenly snapped, and they fell one by one into the blood pool. The pool surged. A blood-stained hand suddenly gripped the edge of the pool, and a withered figure rose unsteadily from the blood. More and more figures appeared, gradually surrounding Muen.
"This is..." Muen looked grimly at the zombie-like figures around him.
"Just the remnants of the sacrifice. They aren't strong, but in these numbers, they should cause you some trouble. And... that's not all." The Banshee snapped her fingers.
The blood pool surged like never before. A deep shadow swam within, and then, amidst a massive wave of blood, a hideous and gargantuan form revealed itself. It was a monster resembling a giant maggot, with twisted tentacles interlaced beneath its massive body. Countless mouths lined its underbelly, emitting a discordant, blurred hissing.
"A Moon Beast." Muen’s face turned slightly pale.
A Moon Beast was, simply put, a magical beast corrupted by the Silent Moon. In the original novel, even the Calamity known as the Sea Demon Leviathan had been eroded by the Silent Moon through unknown means, becoming the most terrifying entity under its command and causing countless disasters.
While the Moon Beast before him couldn't compare to a single hair on Leviathan, judging by its aura, it had reached the level of an Overlord-class magical beast. An Overlord-class beast was equivalent to a late Third-Tier expert; Muen would find it extremely difficult to handle one-on-one.
But it wasn't over. Muen heard a distinct crunch, crunch sound.
From the shadows of the room, a tall figure wearing a black raincoat slowly stepped out. He held a blood-stained butcher's cleaver in one hand and a twisted shadow in the other, which he was chewing on. Beneath his blood-stained mask, his eyes were exceptionally cold, like a dead man's. He pulled his lips back into a cruel, savage grin at Muen.
"Delicious."
The Shadow Butcher! He had been hiding here the whole time! This was the true main event. And...
"He doesn't look like an avatar at all."
"He's the real deal," the Banshee said. "He's a bit slow, so it's too easy for those mad dogs to track him. I had him leave my side for a while. He'll serve as the final insurance to ensure your death."
"This is quite a terrifying situation." Muen’s eyes flickered as he surveyed his surroundings.
An avatar with half the power of the Banshee. A vast number of zombies. An Overlord-class Moon Beast. And the Shadow Butcher, who had caused him so much trouble before. No matter how you looked at it, this was...
"A dead end. An absolute dead end." The Banshee’s lips curled up. She spread her arms and laughed with delight. "That's right, Muen Campbell. This is the dead end I meticulously set up for you. I knew that to find us, to find Anna Kabulin, you would definitely strike at the Red Fire Gang first. After all, with Lorenzo dying before your eyes like that, there was no way you'd let go of such an important lead. So, all I had to do was wait for the rabbit to come to the trap. And you didn't disappoint; you really walked right into it."
"I take back what I said. You really do think highly of me." Muen sighed. This kind of lineup shouldn't be used on a mere Second-Tier martial artist like him.
"I had no choice. I suddenly realized that you might be the greatest threat to our plans."
"That actually makes me quite happy."
"So? Do you want to..."
"Beg for mercy? If you get on your knees and beg, I might be in a good mood and leave your corpse intact." Muen pressed down on the brim of his hat, a mocking smirk returning to his lips. "That's what you were going to say next, right?"
"You—" The Banshee narrowed her eyes, suddenly sensing something was wrong. She realized that aside from his initial surprise, Muen Campbell didn't seem as terrified as she had expected.
"Do you have a way to escape?" After thinking for a moment, that was the only possibility she could come up with. Under her control, the Moon Beast and the zombies didn't rush to attack but instead blocked all of Muen’s exits. The Shadow Butcher also stood at the most critical position, ensuring Muen had nowhere to run.
"Heh." Muen neither confirmed nor denied her guess. He didn't even seem to have the intention of running. He simply sighed with nostalgia. "If it were the old me, I might have really blundered into your trap and died here."
Against this lineup, unless he fully unleashed the flames of the Withered King, there was likely no way out. And even if he survived that way, he would likely be discovered to have ties to an Evil God. Facing the judgment of the Silence Bureau, the outcome wouldn't be much different from being killed. Not to mention saving his Senior.
"But, how does the saying go? Men are creatures that grow the more they lose. And I, as it happens—" Muen stroked the pure white blade of Elizabeth, images of everything that had happened recently flashing through his mind. His gaze gradually became as cold as iron. "—lost a great deal not too long ago!"
"Something's wrong! Kill him! Kill him now!" The Banshee seemed to sense something. She frantically commanded the Moon Beast and the zombies to charge at Muen. The Shadow Butcher also gripped his cleaver.
But it was too late.
Muen’s finger tapped the blade. A clear, ringing vibration echoed out, bypassing the zombies, the Moon Beast, the pale-faced Banshee, and the cold walls and ceiling, traveling far into the distance.
BOOM—
With a thunderous explosion, the wall of the room was suddenly blown open. Rubble flew everywhere. Every "person" in the room instinctively stopped and stared blankly at the firelight pouring in.
Dust filled the air but was quickly dispersed by a breeze summoned by a mage. At the jagged opening, heads crowded together. Thugs, still drenched in blood, poked their heads inside.
"Holy shit, cultists."
"Holy shit, monsters."
"Holy shit, a babe."
Someone cried out in surprise, only to be smacked on the head by the Rat King. "You've all been issued the new gear, what are you afraid of?"
As he spoke, the Rat King toyed with the new toy in his hand, his eyes burning with excitement. It was a repeating crossbow, but not the magic repeating crossbows he used to use. It was...
The fifth-generation new-model military magic repeating crossbow, the terrifying killing machine codenamed "Mandala." Not only was it more compact and easier to carry—it could even be hidden in a sleeve—but its power was far more fearsome. The special enchanted bolts had a horrific explosive and tearing effect. It was said the military had once used a hundred of these to surround and kill a top-tier expert who was only a step away from the Crowned boundary.
Aside from the fact that every bolt cost over ten thousand Emiels, it had no flaws. Thus, when this group of thugs equipped this weapon, they were no longer mere thugs—they were a true army!
But that wasn't enough.
Under the Banshee's "Are you fucking kidding me?" gaze, an even more terrifying engine of destruction was pushed forward by several men grunting with effort.
Pale blue magic circuits flowed over the cold exterior of the massive creation. Its heavy, exquisite metal structure exuded a savage beauty. The thick, long, protruding cylindrical barrel, gleaming with a cold light, was slowly lowered under the crew's control. When it pointed directly at the Shadow Butcher, even the Banshee’s eyes began to twitch uncontrollably.
—Royal Research Institute Special Edition, First Generation 255mm Caliber Combined Mana-Modified Siege Magic Cannon, reporting for duty!
Although as a first-generation magic cannon, it had the minor flaw of a certain probability of exploding and sending everyone to heaven indiscriminately, its power still lived up to the Royal Research Institute's philosophy of violent aesthetics. It was powerful enough to blast through a city wall at a hundred meters!
As for the urban legend known as the Shadow Butcher... Heh, little boy, is your skin as thick as a city wall?
"What the fuck is..." The Banshee could no longer laugh. She stared at Muen, screaming in disbelief, "Did you bring a fucking armory?!"
"It's just a small gift, isn't it?" Muen smiled nonchalantly.
In the black market, any piece of military weaponry that leaked out for whatever reason would be fought over by all parties. But when it came to smuggling military supplies, who could be more "well-positioned" than the Campbell family?
Don't forget, Duke Campbell was currently leading an army of hundreds of thousands at the front lines against the Demon Race. The military supplies consumed daily were astronomical. Therefore, it was perfectly normal for a few "defective" items that were of poor quality and broke easily to be "retired" early, wasn't it?
"That being said, making these things 'reasonably' lost was quite a bit of trouble for the 'family.' An complained and acted spoiled with me for a long time because of it."
Muen faced the pale Banshee and the various monsters. He pressed his hand to his chest and bowed, gracefully performing the etiquette that signaled the start of a grand performance.
"Therefore, though it's a pity it's only an avatar, please enjoy yourself, my dear Miss Banshee."
"And..." Muen whispered in a voice so low only he could hear, "Didn't I say before? Say hello to your father for me. I never said who would be the one saying it."
...
"Sam!"
"Here!"
"Aim true." Muen gave the cold command. "Fire! Blast the hell out of them!"
"Yes, sir!"
No further orders were needed. In that instant, all the monsters roared and lunged at Muen. The Shadow Butcher, closest to Muen, lunged frantically for Muen’s shadow, intending to drag him to hell before destruction arrived.
But the Shadow Butcher could no longer cut any shadow.
Because at that moment, amidst a thunderous roar...
Everything in sight was blinding light.