Chapter 720: Kindness Part 2

Everyone's hearts tightened, and Glover's gaze moved slightly.

"So Lausanne also has a chance of being poisoned to death?"

"Almost poisoned to death. Just a little short."

Paul stood before the shattered floor-to-ceiling window, leaned out to look at the garden outside, and became thoughtful.

"The window is broken, but there is very little shattered glass inside the room. Most of it fell outside."

Everyone froze. Only Miranda nodded.

"I understand. That beast did not break in through the window," Doyle realized. "After drinking the poisoned wine, he sensed something was wrong and forcefully smashed through the window to escape from here!"

The moment these words came out, everyone surged toward the broken window.

"He even staggered all the way and trampled the lawn and hedges," Mallos said thoughtfully, looking at the garden below.

"That is why the steward and servants woke early."

"So Lausanne the Second not only failed to kill him, but was poisoned himself and fled all the way in very poor condition?" Glover narrowed his eyes.

Everyone looked at one another.

"I will arrange it now," Toledo turned through gritted teeth. "We will see whether we can follow the trail. If he truly was poisoned..."

"Be careful," Mallos reminded from behind. "We previously also thought he was heavily injured and waiting to die, but he can always surprise us."

Everyone turned back and examined the scene again.

"If what you say is correct, Mira," Doyle said, his face full of astonishment, "unbelievable. Brennan, this unarmed old man, used weakness to overcome strength and almost poisoned Lausanne the Second by himself?"

"He almost did... what all of us together could not?" Neshy's expression was ugly.

The rest could not help looking at one another, and the atmosphere became awkward.

"It was not weakness overcoming strength," Miranda shook her head. "This old man was himself a strong person, only his strength was not shown through a sword."

"Strength and weakness are not fixed."

Mallos interrupted them, sighing with the same feeling.

"In a fight or duel, what is compared is not the weight, strength, or weakness of the people themselves, but each person's ability to adjust weight and transform strength and weakness on the scale."

He looked toward his subordinates.

"On this point, Brennan was clearly superior to Lausanne."

"But he died," Glover said coldly, gritting his teeth. "Lausanne the Second did not."

"We did not die either," Paul shook his head. "But did we defeat Lausanne?"

Glover snorted coldly and did not answer.

"In short, this fellow is trouble," Neshy frowned. "Lausanne the Second may keep making trouble like this and implicating innocents until we kill him."

"How? All of us together..." Morgan snorted coldly and did not continue.

"And Jade City already has enough trouble," Komuto sighed. "We cannot keep up."

"There will be a way," Miranda took over, her gaze firm. "If, as the lord says, strength and weakness are not fixed, then there must be a way to defeat Lausanne, even for us."

"As long as the scale is adjusted correctly."

Everyone fell silent when they heard this.

"Your Highness! Prince Thales!"

At this moment, urgent calls sounded from outside the door.

"I found it! I found it!"

Everyone turned back together and saw Wya, who had not appeared for a long time, rush into Brennan's study, gasping for breath.

"I found it!"

"Careful, real Wya. Watch your step!" Doyle grabbed Wya, who nearly lost his footing from excessive excitement. "You cannot be careless in this room. A single wine bottle can cost you your life, understand?"

Wya looked at Doyle in confusion, but he had no leisure to chat about anything else. He hurriedly pulled out a roll of documents and handed it to Thales.

"It is like this, Your Highness. The things that have happened in Jade City these days, whether the murder cases or Lausanne, the Blood Bottle Gang or Federico, are full of suspicious points everywhere. I thought and thought, thought and thought, thought and thought, thought and thought, until I nearly scratched my scalp open, but I still could not understand! So when Your Highness previously wrote to Renaissance Palace, I also attached a letter, summarizing my notes and findings, intending to ask someone in Eternal Star City who understood the field..."

"Understood the field? Who? Your father?" Doyle asked in confusion.

Mallos reached out, stopped Doyle's words, and signaled for everyone to be quiet.

Thales flipped through the documents Wya had sent page by page, his expression gradually changing from doubt to gravity.

No way.

"Then, then the reply from the capital came." Wya worked hard to adjust his breathing, trying his best to restrain the excitement of discovering the truth. "Lady Jines said nothing. She only attached this dossier with the letter. It is a past case from Eternal Star City. Then, then I suddenly understood everything..."

"Who?"

Doyle's face changed. "Lady Jines? Do you mean that terrifying royal mistre-"

This time, without Mallos needing to gesture, Glover stretched out a large hand and smothered Doyle's words in his mouth.

"You did very well, Wya."

Thales put down the dossier, handed it to Mallos, and nodded to the attendant officer, who was still panting.

"Zombie, the matter I asked you to handle earlier. Is it done?"

Glover's gaze moved.

"Yes, Your Highness. If she knows what is good for her."

Who?

Doyle's eyes turned helplessly. His mouth was covered, so he could not ask.

"Good." Thales turned toward Mallos. "Tormond, I will give you a list in a while. Ask Butler Ashford for help. Before evening, bring everyone on it to me. Or tie them up if necessary. Remember, not one may be missing."

Mallos flipped through the dossier in his hand, his eyes moving. He asked no further questions.

"As you command, Your Highness."

"Now, Star Lake Guard, collect all evidence and return to Emerald Palace. Everyone prepare and stand by. We set out tonight," Thales' order was cold and beyond doubt, making everyone tense. "Before that, I still need to handle government affairs, a large pile of messes, and..."

Thales' gaze sharpened.

"Go see our prisoners."

To see whether they had repented.

The guards all received orders and left.

"Your Highness, may I ask," Miranda could not help speaking, "what exactly are we going to do today?"

Everyone's movements paused, and they could not help looking toward Thales.

What were they going to do?

"Killing and taking lives, stirring up storms, yet no one can control him. Acting as he pleases..."

The Duke of Star Lake looked at the poisoned wine on the desk, then looked toward the morning sun outside the window and narrowed his eyes.

"He has jumped around in Jade City for too long. I am already tired of it and cannot wait until the scale is adjusted properly."

Anger churned in Thales' eyes.

"Tonight, we hunt Lausanne the Second."

Jade City, North Gate Bridge, an unnamed alley with few people.

"I know who you are."

A youth of sixteen or seventeen sat on a pile of boxes, a knife stuck at his waist. His face carried a ruthlessness that should not have belonged to his age.

The one he glared at viciously was a gray-robed person whose face and body were both hidden. The latter stood in the shadows, merely raising their head to glance at the youth without answering.

"I heard you died," the youth felt he had been ignored. He jumped down from the boxes and walked toward the gray-robed person, intentionally or otherwise touching the hilt of his knife. "Stabbed by your own people."

The gray-robed person raised their head lightly and sneered coldly. From under the gray robe came a sharp and resolute female voice:

"You got the second half right."

The youth smiled, maliciously.

"Ha. Betrayed by your subordinates, turned into a drowning dog. What, now you come slinking here to find a backer?"

The gray-robed person tilted her head slightly, and a fierce light flashed beneath the robe.

"Karak," another gentle male voice came, "kicking someone when they are down will not make you better."

The youth named Karak's expression changed, and he turned back.

At the end of the alley, a man slowly walked toward them. He too was covered from head to toe in a thick brown robe, like an ascetic.

"On the contrary, sending charcoal in snowy weather is what shows your unique vision."

The man's half-hidden face beneath the hood smiled faintly.

"Also, at any time and in any place, maintain respect toward others."

He looked toward the woman in the gray robe.

"Whether the other party is successful or downcast, a king or a beggar, a wise person or a madman."

The man's words were calm and his tone was not sharp, but Karak became embarrassed when he heard them and retreated to the side.

"Yes, boss."

The gray-robed woman sneered.

But the youth endured for a while and ultimately could not hold back:

"But boss, you know she is Red Hood-"

"I know who she is."

The man in the brown robe interrupted him gently.

"I also believe she absolutely does not want her identity shouted out at this moment." The brown-robed man nodded slightly toward the woman. "As the hosts here, we should respect that."

The youth was still unwilling.

"But we can use her to-"

"Leave a path in how you conduct yourself and handle affairs. Forgive where forgiveness is possible, Karak." This time, the brown-robed man's words were much sterner. "No one in this world can anticipate everything. If you try to calculate every mechanism in every matter, believe me, there will always come a day when things go against your wishes, and your losses outweigh your gains."

Karak answered reluctantly:

"Yes."

Seeing that he was still unconvinced, the man spoke with a chill in his voice:

"Do you still remember what happened last time you did not listen to me?"

Karak stiffened and nodded gloomily.

"Yes. Boss."

The youth no longer spoke, only pouted.

The man was silent for a while, but in the end sighed.

"Forget it, Karak. I thought that after spending so long with great figures, you would have learned something... Forget it. Go. Remind the brothers in front to keep their eyes sharp. Jade City has not been peaceful lately."

The youth received the order, cast an unwilling glance at the gray-robed woman, then turned and went toward the alley mouth.

The gray-robed woman, who had been watching from the side all this time, sneered.

"You seem like someone who understands reason. Rare in Black Silk," she said, looking at the brown-robed manager. "Leave a path?"

"I only understood this a few years ago, and paid quite a price along the way." The man watched Karak's back recede and smiled apologetically at the female guest. "As for Karak, he is quite capable of fighting at his age and has a boundless future. But after all, he is still growing and needs time."

The woman observed the man before her with interest.

"Then who are you?"

"Me? Ha, a nameless nobody, a small figure." The brown-robed man shook his head. "I do miscellaneous work under Boss Razzanchi, running unimportant errands."

"If Fisso uses someone like you only to run errands and do odd jobs," the woman said coldly, her words full of a commander's tone, "then he must have drugged himself stupid."

The brown-robed man froze and quickly bowed.

"You flatter me. Moreover, Boss Razzanchi's principle in business is to sell only, not consume. He strictly forbids his subordinates from using their own goods," he said with an apologetic smile. "And I deeply agree."

The woman raised her brows.

"Ah, I guess you must be his favorite one."

The man shrugged helplessly.

"In our line of work, compared to 'liked,' it is better to be 'useful.'"

"Then you should be quite useful."

"Occasionally useful."

The brown-robed man seemed unable to withstand the guest's burning gaze. Unwilling to discuss this further, he had no choice but to change the topic.

"So, respected lady, I heard Red Viper and Fogg, together with that old monster, set an ambush and cut off one of your hands?"

The woman's expression tightened.

She extended her hand from the robe, pressed the stump of her arm, and said coldly:

"They could only cut off one of my hands."

The man nodded.

"Impressive. I know a doctor in this area. His license was revoked because he used drugs while practicing medicine, but he is absolutely trustworthy. If you need some painkillers, or anesthetic..."

"I quit drugs."

The one-armed woman was casual.

"Ordinary painkillers and anesthetics do not work on me."

The brown-robed man's gaze changed.

"Oh! May I ask which one you quit-"

"'Sunlight,'" the woman said indifferently.

The brown-robed man abruptly turned his head, his eyes astonished.

The woman said coldly:

"Back when 'Dogtooth' Bote was around, he especially liked selling that. Until nearly half the Glory District fell to it and drew the blue skins and green hats to intervene... Of course, it has long since been banned. If even a trace is found now, it means the gallows."

"'Life cannot exist alone without sunlight.' Of course, Sunlight. I know. I know it." The brown-robed man looked at her with new respect. "Even among the vicious drugs made from Sail Grass formulas, it is the most forbidden and cruel. And you managed to quit it... By the Sunset, please accept my respect."

"No need. Pain on one's own body is what has the most meaning."

The one-armed woman remembered something, her gaze complicated.

"Moreover, whether drug addiction or an arm, they will always heal."

The man said nothing, and the two fell silent.

"They will not heal," the brown-robed man suddenly said.

"Hm?" The woman turned her head.

The brown-robed man sighed long.

"Believe me, lady. Even after the wound closes and no longer hurts, for decades afterward, you will still hallucinate while half asleep and half awake, as though the arm is still attached, as though the fingers still ache faintly and the elbow is still slightly itchy."

The woman frowned.

"How do you-"

"Then you cannot help reaching out to touch that hand of yours, everything you once possessed," the brown-robed man said in a daze. He slowly extended his right hand, revealing a smooth arm of pitch-black material, unlike a human body, "until you wake and grab nothing in reality."

The gray-robed woman's gaze sharpened.

"A prosthetic?"

"Cheap goods." The brown-robed man smiled. The hand on his right-arm prosthetic extended and contracted roughly and clumsily. "But then again, even the most expensive prosthetic cannot compare to the original, can it?"

The one-armed woman looked at his prosthetic and thought of something, gradually becoming distracted.

"Well said." She lowered her head and sighed. "When a person is broken, they can never be repaired."

"But one cannot refuse repair," the brown-robed man shook his head and drew the prosthetic hand back under his robe, "because no matter how terrible or rotten we are, there is always some part of us, mm, that is good."

He turned and smiled.

"We cannot give up."

The one-armed woman's eyes flashed. She said nothing.

A few minutes later, the woman spoke again:

"In Black Silk, you do not look like someone who can fight. How did you climb up?"

The brown-robed man froze, then scoffed and laughed.

"You flatter me." He helplessly spread his hands and shrugged. "You should say: kid, you look like you do not have the strength to truss a chicken."

The one-armed woman sneered and looked toward Karak outside the alley.

"But that kid is so arrogant, yet he only listens to you."

The brown-robed man paused.

"Yes."

He sighed deeply.

"We went through quite a few things together. Back then, he was still young, and I was also still young. We ran into a terrible boss."

"A terrible boss," the woman said without moving. "I understand."

The man chuckled and shook his head.

"Fortunately, it is all past... Karak is loyal by nature. As for me, I was lucky. He does not hate me much."

"But he still calls you boss."

"Ha, ha. When I drink too much, I occasionally call him boss too."

"You do not look like someone who drinks heavily."

"Good that I do not look like it. Otherwise Boss Razzanchi would tear me apart."

"Are you from this city?"

"Yes. The city outside the city, by Crystal River."

"I had a very close childhood friend who also grew up near there," the gray-robed woman thought of the past. "I heard the sawtooth fish in that river tastes excellent."

"Are you mistaken?" the man asked doubtfully. "Sawtooth fish are sea fish. You need to go southeast to the coast, and then take a boat out to sea to catch them. And the meat is too tough. No one eats it."

The one-armed woman looked at him.

"Mm. Seems you did not lie to me. You really did grow up by Crystal River."

The brown-robed man reacted and burst into laughter.

"All right. Then what about your childhood friend now? Did she go straight?"

"Dead."

The woman's face did not change.

"At fourteen, she hanged herself in the relief home. The rope was tied to the hand of the Sunset Goddess statue."

The atmosphere choked.

"Oh, sorry." The brown-robed man was silent for a while and gritted his teeth. "Damned Sunset priests. Filth hiding filth, not even sparing little girls."

"How do you know it was a priest?"

"From fourteen upward, one counts as an adult and can go to confession alone... and even if something happens, those priests can push it onto 'mutual consent,'" the man spat. "Even if they go in, at most they are locked up for a few years before being released."

"You understand this quite well."

The woman's careless sentence made the man pause slightly.

"I used to have a friend who came out from there too. His case was worse, because he was a boy and had nowhere to seek justice," the brown-robed man snorted coldly. "If you ask me, those god-worshippers are filthier than human traffickers. At least human traffickers do not rape you while piously praying and calling out to the Sunset Goddess."

The one-armed woman turned her head.

"Not bad. You managed to draw quite a bit out of me... When I was still in Jade City, why had I never heard of someone like you?"

The brown-robed man froze.

"That is natural. When you achieved fame and went to the capital to build a career, I had only just returned home." He smiled naturally. "A wanderer returning..."

At this moment, hoofbeats sounded from the end of the alley.

Clop. Clop. Clop.

The one-armed woman and the brown-robed man both left the wall, their faces solemn.

"They are here."

A carriage drove into the alley. A man dressed in tight clothing stepped coldly down from the carriage and tossed several copper coins to the waiting Karak.

"Take it easy. We came by ship and nearly vomited to death. Where do we meet?"

"This truly is a pleasant surprise." The brown-robed man laughed loudly and walked toward the man, opening his arms. "Old friend!"

The man paused when he heard this. Looking toward the brown-robed man, he avoided the embrace.

"To think it is you. Damn unlucky."

The brown-robed man was unconcerned and raised his arms.

"I am also very happy to see you, 'Silent Killer' Layork!"

The man called Layork examined the brown-robed man's outfit.

"Tch. Doing pretty well, aren't you?" he said unhappily. "Compared to killing, it seems selling powder earns more."

The brown-robed man shrugged harmlessly.

"These are your people?"

The one-armed woman walked over behind him, her voice cold and severe.

"What, this kid is the only one who can fight?"

Layork's gaze chilled.

"Your voice sounds a little familiar." He passed the brown-robed man and faced the woman directly, his arm unknowingly pressing down on the weapon beneath his clothes. "Who are you?"

But the one-armed woman did not even look at him and said coldly:

"Where are Black Sword? Kincha? Reverse Curved Blade and Prison Lock Sickle? And the legendary fourth killer?"

The brown-robed man was just about to say something when Layork sneered.

"If every matter requires them to appear," he slowly advanced on the woman, "then the Brotherhood of Black Street does not need to make a living on the streets."

The one-armed woman was unafraid and spat.

"Do you know what you came here to do?"

"Of course. Boss Morris said it a week ago," Layork said coldly. "Eliminate future trouble."

The one-armed woman scoffed, then anger surged up.

"With you? Ha! Has Fisso drugged himself stupid? Or does he know death is at hand, so he has hidden away and given up on himself?"

Fire rose in Layork's eyes.

"You-"

"And this is the person Razzanchi Fisso found?"

The one-armed woman waved rudely and cursed the brown-robed man beside her.

"He knows better than anyone how terrifying Lausanne the Second is! Back then, whether Black Sword Kincha or the early experts of the Brotherhood, all of them were defeated by his hand! You so-called Brotherhood giants were all killed by him until you fled for your lives, hiding in sewers eating shit and drinking piss to survive!"

Layork frowned, but he quickly recognized the person before him, and his face changed greatly.

"Damn it, I recognize you!" Layork's eyes nearly split. Ignoring the brown-robed man's attempt to stop him, he drew his blade and stepped forward. "This is fucking Phantom Blade-"

The next second, the one-armed woman's robe moved, and silver light left its sheath.

Clang!

Clang! Clang! Clang!

In an instant, blades struck repeatedly. Layork only felt blade wind rush toward his face. The angle of his opponent's blade light was strange, forcing him back three steps before he barely blocked the first round of attacks.

"Yes! I am fucking Catherine! The blade bitch every Black Silk wants to kill!"

Catherine roared and struck again.

"Do you have an opinion, little brat?"

Clang!

"Stop! Now!"

The brown-robed man held down Karak, who was eager to move, and roared.

Catherine and Layork stopped.

"This is Jade City, North Gate Bridge. We are not enemies here. We met here for the same reason." His beard and hair bristled as he gnashed his teeth. "Even if you will not give me face, at least give Boss Razzanchi, give the Brotherhood's Head Wolf, some face!"

Layork glanced at him. In the end, he snorted coldly, sheathed his blade, and stepped back.

"Your boss will not live long!"

But Catherine remained herself and even spat on the ground.

"Does Fisso not know? As long as Lausanne the Second is alive for one more day, he will not be safe. Hiring two hundred bodyguards is useless!"

Phantom Blade snorted coldly.

"Lausanne the Second will find out what happened back then sooner or later. Sooner or later, he will go find him! Fisso cannot escape!"

The brown-robed man and Layork exchanged a glance.

At this moment.

"Of course he knows!"

Another female voice came from the carriage.

The surroundings immediately quieted.

"But there is one person who understands even better than Razzanchi Fisso how terrifying Lausanne the Second is."

A bewitching figure stepped gracefully down from the carriage and held Layork's arm, not forgetting to glance at Karak beside them, making the latter blush.

Catherine's eyes changed.

"Ah, Flowerheart Girl. To think the old powder peddler was willing to leave the rouge nest in the capital." She clicked her tongue as she looked at the alluring beauty before her. "Not killing you together back then was truly a mistake."

"Fortunately you did not, Blood Bottle Gang's man-woman," the newly arrived woman giggled. "Otherwise, at this point, who would save you?"

Catherine sneered.

"How strange. Knowing that monster is alive, you still dare come? Do you not know he hates-"

"Why would I not dare?"

The charming woman brushed her hair back.

"I could kill him once," she interrupted Catherine, a fierce light appearing in her eyes, "so I can kill him twice."

Everyone present tensed.

"Belicia," the brown-robed man raised his tone, bowed excitedly, and stretched out a hand, breaking the awkwardness. "You are still so beautiful!"

Belicia glanced at him, first blooming into a radiant smile, then sighing softly as she passed by the man.

"And you are still so boring."

The brown-robed man straightened and stood awkwardly in place.

"Ah, I am also honored to see you."

But as Belicia raised her head and looked over everything at North Gate Bridge, warning bells were ringing in her heart:

Fuck.

I knew there was something wrong with this trip.

But who made Morris so determined?

As if he had already been certain Jade City would have an incident.

Only, she had not expected...

"Forget it. Let it be like this."

Catherine looked at Belicia's figure, seemed to understand something, and laughed loudly.

"Dying early or dying late, that is all!"

The brown-robed man relaxed.

"Good. Since everyone knows one another, I will not waste time introducing you." He smiled and extended a hand toward the end of the alley. "Boss Razzanchi is ready to receive everyone. Please?"

Belicia smiled faintly and supported Layork as they walked forward.

"Wait," Catherine suddenly spoke. She looked toward the brown-robed man. "You with the prosthetic. What is your name?"

The man froze.

He coughed, lowered his brown hood, and revealed one eye. The other was covered by a black eyepatch.

"Respected Boss Catherine," the man smiled broadly and bowed slightly. "This humble one is Narl Rick."

"An ordinary accountant in the pharmaceutical merchant group under Boss Razzanchi."

He straightened.

"Of course, with your status, calling me Narl is fine."

Rick leaned on Karak beside him, tapped his single eye with the prosthetic limb, and smiled in a friendly, reassuring way.

"It is more kind that way."