Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks-Chapter 558 - 333: Assassin

In the narrow alley.

A young man with a pair of beast ears tightly gripped the antique longsword embedded with a red gem in his hand and charged at the enemy wielding a firearm.

This must be a very rare treasure.

The gunman silently thought, then without hesitation fired again. Infused with the magic power from his body, three bullets erupted with an orange flame from the muzzle, cutting through the air, aimed at his opponent.

But this young swordsman, seemingly from the Middle Ages, with his silvery-white antique longsword, at this moment, swung the sword across.

Immediately, with a clang, he split each rapidly incoming bullet in half from the center.

Losa stood with his sword, his expression calm.

The world hasn’t changed, sir!

A hint of surprise flashed in the opponent’s golden vertical pupils. He had seen people dodge bullets, but never anyone who could slice them with a sword.

Aren’t you just a corner point, a pawn exploring the path?

In the midst of astonishment,

Losa had already grasped his sword single-handedly, his figure swiftly darting down the narrow passageway, leaving behind afterimages, his speed had remarkably advanced to an unimaginable level from stillness.

Having long surpassed his past self, Losa, with the Bloodfall’s support, in short distance sprints, was far beyond the usual centurion level of the wolf race in this world.

Bam—

The gunman turned and fired without looking back, stepping onto the seat of a bicycle parked by the path to propel himself into the air, attempting to flip onto the rooftop.

But at this moment.

A blazing light,

One hand wielding a sword, the other controlling fire.

In this combat style, Losa had fully grasped the essence of the Demon Hunter’s magic and martial arts dual cultivation.

Seeing Losa getting closer and closer, the gunman stopped fleeing, a hint of hesitation flashed in his eyes. After a moment of thought, he pulled a filtered cigarette from a metal box in his pocket and stuck it in his mouth.

"Speak, who sent you?"

"Heh."

The gunman displayed a smirk full of mockery.

But Losa merely smiled and said, "It’s alright if you choose not to speak."

"A specially trained gunman would never be loose-lipped. The dentures in your mouth or the filter of the cigarette might hide poison that you could use to commit suicide once I approach."

The gunman’s expression changed slightly.

"It seems I was right."

Losa gestured with his hand, inviting, "Please, go ahead."

He said with keen interest, "I’ve only seen such a scenario in novels. May I ask, if you hide poison in dentures, what if it accidentally gets crushed while chewing bones?"

The gunman couldn’t help but retort, "Are you a dog? Must you chew bones?"

"Turns out you’re a female gunman."

Losa was a bit surprised by the softness of the opposing voice and chuckled, "I thought you wouldn’t say a word to me."

The female gunman said coldly, "Who exactly are you?"

"Didn’t you investigate me before attempting to assassinate me?"

"Of course I did. Losa Saluzzo, although of Saluzzo blood, you are a marginal corner point with quite average talent—otherwise, the family wouldn’t have sent a gunman of my caliber to deal with you."

Losa chuckled, "Unfortunately, your report was wrong, which is why you’re now in my hands."

He snapped his fingers, "Do you want me to light it for you? After all, it’ll be your last one before you die."

"Are you that eager for me to die? Don’t you want to know who exactly is trying to kill you?"

"Of course I want to know, but wanting is useless. You appear to be a steadfast and fearless person, dedicated to death. Out of respect for you, I’ll strip you and hang your body up to warn your mastermind."

The female gunman bit her lip tightly, her voice trembling, "I’m not afraid of death. Do you think I’d care about how my decaying corpse is disposed of?"

Losa shook his head, "Of course not. I’m just using your body as a warning to whoever is behind you—whatever they plan against the Bologna Family, don’t drag our Saluzzo Family into it."

Having said that, he lifted his hand again, signaling, "Please, proceed."

Cough—

The female gunman suddenly had a violent coughing fit, the cigarette in her mouth flew out, caught by a tender, fair hand.

"Seems I arrived just in time."

Lavinia removed the cigarette butt, glanced at the glass vial hidden inside, frowned, tossed it to the ground and crushed it under her boot.

She said to Losa, "Don’t be surprised, that was my ability just now."

Losa carefully examined Lavinia’s expression and, realizing she most likely wasn’t aware of the situation, asked, "Miss Lavinia, why are you here?"

"I encountered a clumsy gunman..."

Lavinia briefly described the incident.

"Not necessarily clumsy."

Losa smiled, "Had I died, your current pursuit would likely lead to you being unexpectedly identified as my killer."

"Am I right, gunwoman?"

The gunman was stunned for a moment, then said nothing.

Lavinia furrowed her brow, "Even without witnesses, the fact that you two died after meeting me still implicates me."

At this point, she couldn’t help but suddenly understand. It seems that Lorenzo’s case might also be orchestrated by someone behind the scenes—so, indeed, it’s a conspiracy to provoke conflict between the Bologna and Saluzzo Families?

"That’s true."

"What do you plan to do with her next?"

"According to the Saluzzo Family’s tradition, she should be thrown into the dungeon and forced to speak through some unscrupulous methods."

The gunman shivered; the Saluzzo Family’s dungeon was a nightmare beyond measure for all wolf race assassins. That’s why when she saw Losa was about to catch up, she stopped and planned to take poison.

"Hand her over to me."

"Of course, Miss Lavinia."

Lavinia was somewhat surprised at Losa’s straightforwardness,

"I mentioned before, Miss Lavinia, I genuinely hope we can become friends."

"This..."

Lavinia felt conflicted, as this scenario closely resembled those of her colleagues sent to prison by her, initially being wooed by gang members under the guise of friendship. Initially—they only asked to be friends.

But gradually, these friends would repeatedly lower the bottom line of her colleagues.

Justice corrupted.

Laws eroded.

"Miss Lavinia, true friends wouldn’t put each other in difficult situations. If one makes unreasonable demands, they’re no longer friends, so there’s no need to worry."

"Why are you so insistent on being friends with me?"

Losa smiled, "Beneath the torch, like-minded people always gather, Miss Lavinia. You’re not the only idealist in this world—I am too."

After saying that, his gaze dimmed for a moment.

"It’s precisely because ideals are difficult...if not impossible to achieve, that they remain so alluring to us."