Instigator and Protector of Violence-Chapter 345: Offstage

If you overlook the South District from the highest sky, you’ll find that this usually darkest area of the Royal Capital now has color.

It’s the intermittent fireworks, seemingly telling a story.

Old Xi Wen is watching everything from above at this moment.

Of course, he knows exactly what kind of story those fireworks are telling.

As it stands, this story benefits him, and they are the protagonists of this story.

Except for one place.

That’s the direction Mollen is headed.

As the controller of the whole situation, he naturally understands all of this.

Mollen was once the young man he had the highest hopes for. He even entertained the idea of truly passing on his position to Mollen.

However, Mollen’s repeated performances have been truly disappointing.

Tonight is no exception.

Until the news came through.

Johnny Blackbird, in the direction where Mollen is.

This made Old Xi Wen unable to sit still either.

He rushed directly in that direction.

He was the first to arrive, but did not act immediately because he still wanted to give his subordinates a chance.

It was also considered giving Mollen one last opportunity.

Mollen already knew about the leak of the information, and he no longer had the strength or energy to pursue the matter.

The most important thing now is that he must capture Johnny Blackbird before others arrive.

Can he do it?

Mollen actually began to lose confidence.

Mainly because the fearless trio opposite made him despair; not only could he not take them down, but his own life was in danger.

If it weren’t for the third-level alchemical item he had spent large sums to create, he would have had to walk with death many times.

"Charge once more!"

He was still trying to rally his subordinates.

But his subordinates were already afraid.

Many had fallen, yet not a single one of the opponents had died.

There was no longer an opportunity.

Everyone appeared very hesitant.

In that moment of hesitation, Johnny Blackbird had already pressed forward.

Mollen had no time to act when a flying dagger shot straight over, hitting Johnny Blackbird in the left shoulder, and the immense impact made him step back.

Seeing that dagger, Mollen’s pupils narrowed slightly.

"Mollen, it’s not a good habit to hog things! Johnny Blackbird is fair game for anyone!"

Also one of Old Xi Wen’s adopted children, clown Gaius, he had arrived.

This means...

"You’re right, Gaius, such glory shouldn’t be enjoyed by one person!"

On the other side, another adopted child, Iron Glove Terry, also appeared.

Along with him was the fourth adopted child, Blind Kiel.

Thus, all four adopted children under Old Xi Wen had arrived.

"Alright, if you want him, you take him."

Seeing the scene, Mollen simply stepped back, making a gesture of offering.

This made Johnny Blackbird extremely dissatisfied: "Hey, hey, hey, don’t make it sound like I’m your trophy, it’s not certain who’s capturing whom."

He pulled the dagger out of his shoulder and casually threw it aside.

Likewise, Crenzo and Aaron, covered with scars but not down, stood by his side.

"Johnny Blackbird is mine!"

Clown Gaius shrieked as he rushed in hastily from the side.

"I want him too!"

Iron Glove Terry and Blind Kiel struck almost simultaneously.

Along with their subordinates, those borrowed from under Sea King Lockeby, they surged up almost simultaneously.

From all directions.

Like a vast net.

A net for catching birds.

When the net descended, Sea King Lockeby was ready for bed.

He slept exceptionally early today because he had insomnia the previous two days and needed to make up for the lost sleep.

As for the heavy rain outside tonight and the drama unfolding in the rain, he wasn’t particularly concerned.

Because it wasn’t his drama, he just happened to see a bit of it.

Things that aren’t his business, he generally isn’t very concerned about.

This is his philosophy, never concern yourself with things that don’t concern you; this way, you can live longer.

This is also the reason he’s survived all these years.

Before bed, he completed his wash and had a small glass of Toosni.

It’s a liquor from the Old Continent, notably strong and even toxic. By normal drinking guidelines, to drink this liquor, you must first hold a pinch of green salt in your mouth to detoxify.

However, Lockeby doesn’t need that. He’s used to it, having drunk it this way from childhood. Drinking this liquor reminds him never to forget who he is, not to be blinded by the seemingly calm life and thus forget his true aim.

What is Lockeby’s true goal?

To become a god.

Yes, it’s an utterly insane-sounding answer.

But after understanding the truth behind true names at the age of thirty-five, he set this ultimate goal.

So he needs to live as long as possible, like an old dog.

He knows only by living long enough may he have a chance at that opportunity.

Slowly drinking the Toosni completely, Lockeby let out a long breath.

Beside him, his confidant was reporting on all the arrangements in the Port District today.

Most of the manpower from the southwest was transferred to the South District to assist, while the forces in the southeast remained still, even increasing their numbers, especially at the Golden Coast Tavern, where some heavy hitters were present. Lockeby’s three capable aides were there, just to prevent that Sea God Church lunatic Maurice from going nuts again.

"I know."

Lockeby nodded, very routine arrangements, no problems.

He could sleep now.

The subordinates slowly retreated.

The lights in the room also went out.

Only the rain outside was hammering the glass windows.

It should be a night very suitable for sleeping.

But some people didn’t intend to sleep through this night.

For instance, Maurice.

Maurice was very restrained today, seeming to have heeded Heigen’s teachings, and didn’t cause trouble.

He spent his days praying devoutly, eating little food, and drinking clean water.

He suddenly seemed to have returned to that ascetic demeanor of the past.

Even those monitoring him felt he posed no problem.

By the time it was near ten at night, he still remained inside the prayer room, not coming out, causing his watchers to feel a bit sleepy.

"Prepare to switch shifts, but it seems this guy has learned his lesson; can we perhaps apply not to monitor him from tomorrow? After all, he’s just a nouveau riche with no real background."

His watchers chatted idly.

But after a while, they were still waiting for the relief crew.

Just as they were about to complain, the relief team finally arrived.

But soon they no longer needed to switch shifts, for they were utterly dead.

And inside the prayer room, Maurice gave the final blessing, slowly stood up, straightened his collar, and his eyes shone with pure blue, as blue as the ocean.

He was ready.