Bayam, the City of Generosity.
After the Blue Avenger docked at the harbor, Alger led Ash to circle around the city a few times.
Once they shook off any trackers and watchers, they finally arrived at a house where Alger rang the doorbell.
This was the residence of the craftsman Alger had found for Ash.
Ding~!
Shortly after the bell rang, the door opened.
A lean, tanned middle-aged man with flaxen hair appeared behind the door, giving Alger a surprised look.
"Alger, why is it you?"
"Let's talk inside," Alger nodded slightly.
"Alright,"
The "craftsman" shrugged, clearly trusting Alger a lot, and stepped aside to let them in without suspicion.
"Let me introduce you two," Alger said, pointing at each in turn. "This is Sharf, a highly skilled craftsman. I believe he can meet your needs. And this is Ash, who hopes to commission you to craft beyonder artifacts."
"No problem," Sharf said heartily. "As long as you pay, it's fine. Also, make sure to tell me your specific requirements for the items beforehand. I won't be responsible once they're made otherwise."
"Help me change their appearance," Ash said after thinking for a moment, pulling out a dark iron-colored metal glove from somewhere.
"Sure," Sharf gave it a glance, his expression flickering slightly, but he still nodded.
However, before he finished speaking, Ash took out several more magical items—
An ordinary-looking tin pocket watch, a crude four-leaf clover amulet, and a massive, roughly crafted handgun.
"..."
Sharf fell silent for a long moment before asking, "Is there more?"
"No, that's it," Ash shook his head. "How long will it take to modify them?"
"This might take quite a while," Sharf hesitated, looking a bit uneasy. "Also, it'll cost 1000 pounds."
Ash wasn't surprised. He counted out 100, 10-pound notes and handed them over.
After all, Alger had warned him beforehand that the craftsman would charge a fee.
Sharf silently accepted the money.
He didn't even exchange pleasantries with Alger, just silently stared at him.
This gaze made Alger feel a bit odd, but he didn't overthink it.
He just nodded and was about to leave.
Just as they were about to walk out the door, Sharf suddenly called them back.
"Alger."
Sharf gave Alger's back a deep look and suddenly said, "The magical item you asked me to make last time is done. Come with me."
"Wait a moment," Alger looked at Sharf doubtfully.
But he didn't say much, only apologizing to Ash before following Sharf to the inner room.
"Who exactly is he?!"
Once they closed the bedroom door, Sharf asked in a low voice.
Alger frowned slightly but answered without hesitation, "He's my friend. Completely trustworthy. Is there a problem?"
"There's a big problem!"
Sharf gave a bitter smile upon hearing Alger's assurance. "Do you know the origin of those magical items he gave me?"
Alger paused for two seconds and didn't hide it. He said succinctly, "He has some conflicts with the MI9 of the Loen Kingdom. Those are trophies he took from MI9 Beyonders."
He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Are you scared?"
"Yes," Sharf nodded without hesitation, surprising Alger.
"You know,"
Sharf was visibly nervous and struggled to organize his thoughts, his words still coming out a bit jumbled, "I'm a machinery specialist. My previous Sequence was Appraiser. I can quickly identify magical items' abilities and grades."
"Among those four magical items, two are at Sequence 5 level."
"The glove and the clover."
"I know," Alger nodded calmly, but was even more confused. "What's the problem?"
He already knew Ash could kill Sequence 5 Beyonders.
It wasn't strange for him to possess Sequence 5 magical items.
And Sharf, as a craftsman — even though he lacked combat ability due to his Savant Path — was still a Sequence 6 Machinery specialist and had made several Sequence 5 magical items before.
Moreover, he didn't have much loyalty to the Loen Kingdom; otherwise, he wouldn't have stayed in the overseas colonies.
So Alger felt two Sequence 5 items shouldn't scare him this much.
Sharf gave a bitter smile, "The problem is, the other two items are at Sequence 4 level!"
"Sequence 4... Demigod?!"
Alger's expression froze, finally realizing the issue.
"That's why I asked if he can be trusted,"
Sharf looked miserable. "If he can't be trusted, we're both dead."
"Don't worry,"
Alger quickly composed himself, saying seriously, "I still say, he's absolutely trustworthy. But—"
He gave Sharf a deep look, "That's only if you don't try any tricks."
A Beyonder artifact at Sequence 4 level could only be properly used by a Sequence 4 Demigod.
If Ash had one Sequence 4 magical item, it could be luck.
But having two? It meant he had likely killed a Sequence 4 Beyonder!
And judging by the timeline — from when Ash appeared at sea to when he met Alger — it was very recent.
For any force, the death of a Demigod-level member would be a devastating blow.
If word got out, Ash would definitely be hunted down relentlessly.
"Do I look stupid to you?"
Sharf smiled bitterly and retorted.
Besides the basic principle of confidentiality between craftsman and client, the price of betrayal was something he couldn't afford.
"Just do your job properly,"
Alger patted Sharf's shoulder in encouragement.
"Wait!"
Seeing Alger about to leave, Sharf grabbed him and handed over a ring. "Here's the Beyonder artifact you ordered — the Whip of Spirit. Originally priced at 4000 pounds, but I'll give you a 25% discount. 3000 pounds. Thank you."
"Are you robbing me?!"
Alger's face darkened immediately.
"You want it or not?"
Sharf countered.
"I'll give you the rest next time,"
Alger gritted his teeth, pulled out 2000 pounds from his pocket, and shoved it into Sharf's hand.
"No need,"
Seeing that Alger really didn't have enough money, Sharf's face also darkened. He said irritably, "Consider the rest my treat for a few drinks, but…"
He warned, "Don't let your friend know about our conversation."
He had no desire to get noticed by a Demigod.
"Don't you trust me?"
Alger asked, making Sharf a little embarrassed.
Seeing this, Alger didn't press further. He just gave a cold snort and left.
By the time they exited the house, Alger's face was already back to normal, showing no hint of what had just happened.
"Got the item. Let's go,"
Alger raised the ring in his hand and smiled at Ash at the door.
"Speaking of which, you might not believe it,"
Shortly after they left Sharf's home, Alger smiled, fiddling with the ring. "Although this ring isn't as good as yours, since it's made from two different Beyonder characteristics, it's worth at least 4000 pounds!"
"And I only spent 2000, all thanks to you."
"Oh?"
Ash looked a little surprised. "Didn't you already pre-order it? What's it got to do with me?"
"He lied,"
Alger shrugged casually. "Your four items—two are Sequence 5, two are Sequence 4. He took the excuse of handing me the item to actually try and probe for information about you."
"And he ended up giving me this item basically at cost."
Normally, a Sequence 7 magical item costs about 2000 pounds.
1600 for the Beyonder characteristics, 400 for crafting.
Two Sequence 7 items would cost about 4000 pounds.
But if a magical item was crafted using two different characteristics, its value skyrocketed.
Minimum 5000–6000 pounds!
Because magical items come with side effects.
Using two separate magical items meant bearing two separate side effects.
But if it's a combination of two traits into one item, you only suffer one side effect.
Thus, such combined magical items are extremely valuable.
This ring Sharf made was a practice piece — combining a Sequence 7 and a Sequence 9 characteristic.
Even separated, it was worth over 2700 pounds.
Combined, it was easily worth 3500 pounds or more — and with rarity premiums, even up to 4000 pounds!
And Alger got it for just 2000!
A total steal — and it wasn't even Alger exploiting Sharf — it was Sharf pushing it onto him!
"I see,"
Ash nodded calmly, as if none of this mattered much to him.
Which was indeed true.
"Really don't care, huh…"
Alger smiled a bit proudly but also studied Ash's expression carefully.
Seeing Ash still looking relaxed, Alger finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Though he had been shocked by Ash killing a Demigod, he knew he couldn't hide that fact.
First, Sharf wasn't as important to him as Ash and the Tarot Club.
Second, Alger couldn't be sure Ash hadn't already overheard the conversation!
Considering Ash's soul summoning abilities, a mere wall wouldn't block him.
Better to confess openly than risk suspicion.
And judging by Ash's reaction, Alger had clearly made the right choice.
"Will he run away?"
Ash suddenly asked.
"Probably not,"
Alger replied, then hesitated, "But then again, maybe. Sharf's a coward. He probably won't dare to run off with your items, but he might run away in fear."
"Should I go back and keep an eye on him?"
Those four magical items were worth a fortune!
If something happened, Alger would be unforgivably responsible.
After all, he had introduced Sharf to Ash.
He didn't dare risk Sharf's trustworthiness now.
"No need,"
Ash said casually, "He can't escape."
"True,"
Alger looked enlightened.
Even if Sharf tried to flee by sea, where could he run?
And if needed, Alger's Blue Avenger was among the fastest ships around.
Plus—
Even if it wasn't said outright, Ash likely had soul guardians posted outside Sharf's house already.
"So, what now?"
Alger changed the subject with a smile. "Go find an inn, or have some fun in the city first?"
"Anything fun?"
Ash asked with interest.
Alger shrugged, "If you ask me — same as any pirate. As Emperor Roselle said: three things are essential to life: strong liquor, women, and gambling."
"Let's go to the casino then,"
Ash said, glancing at his nearly maxed-out Luck stat. "I'm feeling lucky."
"Alright,"
Alger smiled, but warned, "Just remember, Roselle also said: small bets are fun, big bets hurt. If you lose all our money, we'll be sleeping on the streets tonight."
"No big deal,"
Ash said confidently, "I'll only bet a pound."
"That's fine, but…"
Alger hesitated, "Could you take off your rings first?"
"Why?"
Ash asked curiously.
"They're too eye-catching,"
Alger spread his hands helplessly. "If you lose money, it's fine. But if you win, it'll cause trouble — hard to get out of the casino safely."
"Fair enough,"
Ash nodded after some thought.
After all, he could equip his rings at a mere thought.
Normally, he kept them on simply because there was no need to take them off.
Thinking for a moment—
Ash removed almost all his rings, keeping only a gold one shaped like a coiled serpent.
...
Meanwhile, back in Backlund—
In a certain place, a graceful woman stood by a window, gazing out at the blood-red moon.
Her figure was elegant, though her clothing was slightly eccentric, and her brows were tightly furrowed.
Her soft pink lips parted slightly as she whispered to herself:
"The plan is going smoothly."
"They have no suspicion of me. Fate made everything appear natural."
"The moment I learned about '0-08,' it learned about me too."
"It wrote me into its story, and coincidences made everything go according to plan."
"The vessel for the True Creator's descent was destroyed. I successfully advanced to Sequence 2, Sage."
"The Goddess of the Night never appeared — her substitute, 'Hidden Servant' Arianna, is handling everything."
"It seems they have some secret collaboration with the Aurora Order."
"Archbishop Anthony's rank is limited; he doesn't even know where that Ash is..."
The woman let out a light sigh, her expression carrying a trace of melancholy and helplessness.
"I'm still not fully freed from '0-08's' influence."
"Although I've already advanced to Sequence 2, I can vaguely sense its threads... entangling me."
She lowered her gaze and murmured softly:
"Maybe one day, I'll be completely free."
"Maybe one day... I'll personally tear up the script it wrote."
"But not yet."
"The world is still not ready."
"The Creator is still watching."
"And I... am still too weak."
She slowly turned around, her silhouette merging into the darkness, leaving behind only a faint whisper:
"Someday..."
-------------------------------------------------------
In Bayam, inside an ordinary residence not far from the Governor's Mansion.
In the spacious basement, candles burned quietly, casting a dim yellow light across the room.
On the stone steps connecting to the ground floor, a shadow gradually stretched under the faint light.
Soon, a figure appeared in the basement.
He wore a tailcoat, a black overcoat, and had neatly combed brown hair.
His eyes were not large, but they were bright and spirited. A faint mustache adorned his upper lip, giving him the appearance of a gentleman.
His name was Odell — "Silver Coin Viper" Odell.
But at this moment—
This gentleman looked rather nervous. His body trembled slightly as he gazed at the middle-aged man whose body was half-shrouded in shadow under the dim light.
"Find someone for me,"
the middle-aged gentleman said hoarsely as he turned around.
"Of course, no problem, Lord Senor,"
Odell lowered his head, hiding the astonishment in his eyes, and responded respectfully,
"What kind of person are you looking for? What are the characteristics?"
"Blood Admiral" Senor wore an old tricorn hat. His deep-set eyes and deathly pale complexion made him look more like a specter than a living man.
He brushed his black mustache with his hand and spoke slowly:
"The characteristics are very obvious — he always wears ten strange-looking rings."
"Looking for someone wearing ten rings?"
Odell was stunned, his expression filled with surprise. He hesitated,
"And the person you're looking for... are they male or female?"
Senor gave Odell a cold glance, his voice laced with menace:
"That's none of your concern. Just find them and report back to me."
"Of course, of course!"
Odell nodded repeatedly, trembling with fear, and hurriedly added respectfully:
"Lord Senor, Lady Vivian is still waiting at home. I wonder when we might have the honor of welcoming you again?"
"Tonight. Now get lost."
Senor sneered.
Odell bowed respectfully, retreating up the stone stairs.
After Odell left, Senor turned and looked toward the altar stained with dried blood. His tone became even more reverent as he said:
"Lord Jakes, do you have any other instructions?"
"Is he reliable?"
A cold voice came from behind the curtains surrounding the altar.
Then, as if the curtains had come alive, they rolled inward and tied themselves into a knot at the center of the altar.
A faintly transparent figure appeared beside the altar.
He had dark brown skin, deeply etched wrinkles, and sparse white hair like autumn leaves — looking as if he had lived for countless years.
"Of course not, Lord Jakes,"
Senor did not dare lift his head and replied respectfully,
"Odell is a despicable merchant. Words like 'reliable' never applied to him. However, he is excellent at gathering intelligence. For now, we have no better option."
"Who is Vivian?"
Jakes asked coldly, his voice devoid of any emotion.
"She's Odell's mistress,"
Senor quickly explained.
"Pleasure is permitted. But do not delay fulfilling the will of God."
"Yes, Lord Jakes."
Jakes said no more, simply gazing at the flickering candle flames around the altar.
His gaze was humble but carried a hint of confusion.
Today, the divine presence seemed... a little different.
But he had indeed received a revelation.
"Lord Jakes,"
Senor hesitated for a moment and then asked in a low voice,
"May I inquire about the full content of the revelation?"
Jakes glanced at him and replied calmly:
"Find the divine envoy wearing ten rings. Have him seek and collect the twenty-two Blasphemy Cards, especially the Moon card."
After a slight pause, he added,
"And... the Mother card."
---------------------------------------------------------
"Shit! He won again!"
"What the hell?! How is that even possible?!"
"Just follow his bets! If I had followed him, I'd be winning too!"
"Yeah yeah, bro, lend me some cash — I'm sure to win this time!"
Amid the noisy crowd, Alger watched Ash, who sat calmly to one side, his eye twitching slightly.
Originally, they had only planned to play a few rounds.
Instead, ash had turned a single gold pound into over ten thousand pounds!
This was true, astronomical profit!
Sitting right next to him, Alger couldn't even tell how ash was cheating — it seemed he was just winning through sheer luck.
Could he have some kind of artifact that boosts luck?
But...
Alger glanced at the croupier's darkened face, looking odd.
In the Kingdom of Loen, gambling was illegal.
But in the vast overseas colonies, casinos not only were legal but a major economic pillar.
Bayam was among the most prominent.
Still, everyone knew — in casinos, losses were far more common than wins.
Wealthy visitors from Backlund and the coast often returned with nothing but the clothes on their backs.
Lose money? No problem.
Win money? That's where trouble begins.
They wouldn't stop you from leaving — that would ruin the casino's reputation.
But once you stepped out the door, if anything happened, it had "nothing" to do with the casino.
In the colonies, pirates were plentiful, and street robbery was practically a daily occurrence.
And the casino's owner was a powerful gang boss, rumored to have vague ties to the Governor's Mansion.
What might happen outside — well, everyone knew.
Without proof, it couldn't be tied back to the casino.
You could only chalk it up to bad luck.
Of course, no casino enforcer could defeat a demigod.
At most, they might be a Sequence 6, which even Alger wasn't particularly afraid of — much less Ash, who could kill a demigod single-handedly.
The only problem—
It might cause them some annoying trouble and delays.
"But then again..."
Alger stroked his chin thoughtfully.
If Ash didn't care, neither would he.
Following him to make money was the right move.
After all, Alger didn't have Ash' insane luck — if he gambled on his own, he would probably lose even his underwear.
"Let's go,"
Ash suddenly stood up and said casually.
Alger raised an eyebrow, gathered up the chips, and followed Ash to cash them in.
Upstairs, behind a large floor-to-ceiling window, a bald man in a suit watched them coldly.
Behind him, another suited man made a throat-slitting gesture, asking for orders.
"Boss, should we..."
"Idiot."
The bald man shot his subordinate a disgusted look,
"Tell the boys — let them go. I can afford to lose a lousy ten thousand pounds."
In his casino, cheating was pointless.
Only genuine "lucky ones" could win.
Even then, winning a little wasn't an issue.
If someone kept winning, though, he had a special artifact — made from the characteristics of a Sequence 5 "Winner" from the Monster pathway — that would curse the enemy with misfortune.
Winning a few hundred or a few thousand pounds wasn't enough to trigger it.
But if someone won too much just by "luck," the artifact would be used.
Anyone who could resist its curse had to be at least a Sequence 5 Winner too!
Provoking someone like that over a mere ten thousand pounds would be beyond stupid.
Besides—
The guy had only won ten thousand pounds — he had already shown enough respect.
"Understood, Boss,"
the subordinate nodded quickly but added cautiously,
"One more thing. 'Silver Coin Viper' Odell has put out a commission — he's looking for someone wearing ten strange rings."
"Oh?"
The bald man's expression shifted slightly,
"Did you find them yet? Do you know what they look like?"
"Not yet..."
"Then shut up. We run a legal business here. No shady backstabbing."
The bald man scowled.
"And stay away from people like Odell."
"Understood."
Though inwardly, the subordinate had a strange expression.
Telling him to look for the person but not inform Odell — wasn't that just trying to sell the information to the highest bidder?
And anyway—
Wasn't backstabbing Odell exactly what the boss usually did?
"Nobody's come after us?"
Alger turned to look at the deserted street, surprised.
"Not for such a small amount,"
Ashes said casually,
"Only ten thousand pounds. Anyone who can run such a big casino wouldn't bother over that."
"Small amount?!"
Alger's face twitched — but considering Ashes' strength, maybe it was just small change to him.
Alger shook his head.
Although Ashes had already displayed overwhelming strength, he wasn't quite used to thinking on that level yet.
He himself was only Sequence 6 —
Even though he had the ingredients for the next potion, the digestion process was slow.
Still—
He had made a tidy profit following Ashes' bets.
Not bad at all.
Next morning, in Sharff's residence.
A knock at the door startled Sharff so much he nearly collapsed.
But gritting his teeth, he opened the door.
"It's you two."
Sweating profusely, Sharff forced a smile when he saw them.
"Why are you sweating so much?"
Alger frowned.
"..."
Sharff's expression froze. He forced a bitter smile,
"You think modifying magical artifacts is easy? Even if you were in my shoes, working under stress all night, you'd look just like me."
"Where's the stuff?"
Alger asked.
"On the table."
Sharff, exhausted, pointed to the living room.
Ashes glanced over.
The "Concerto of Light and Shadow" — originally a tin pocket watch — was now a golden wristwatch.
The lucky clover charm was now a necklace, with the four-leaf clover hidden inside.
The iron-black gloves had been modified into wristbands.
The "Desperate Wail of Rivière" had been most heavily altered — changed from a six-barreled monster into an ordinary-looking revolver.
"What's this?"
Alger frowned,
"You barely changed them."
"Time wasn't enough!"
Sharff immediately wailed,
"You only found me yesterday! Even if I pulled an all-nighter, it's impossible to fully remake them — especially at this high level! Just slightly altering the appearance was already pushing it!"
Although Ashes had only requested slight modifications to appearance—
These were still magical items, and even cosmetic changes risked damaging them if not done carefully.
With the time constraints, he had done what he could.
"Forget it. It's fine,"
Ashes waved his hand indifferently,
"As long as they're unrecognizable."
Sharff sighed in relief.
He wasn't really afraid of Alger — but offending Ashes, a demigod, was another story.
"Let's go,"
Ashes moved to the table, made a grasping motion in the air, and collected the four items into his soul storage.
Sharff silently watched them leave until they vanished down the street.
Only then did he finally relax, discovering his back was soaked in cold sweat!
His forehead too was covered in dense beads of sweat.
He wasn't just exhausted.
He was terrified!
Because—
There was something he hadn't told them.
He really had worked all night.
But someone had come to visit midway.
An old acquaintance who had commissioned him for magical items before.
The man had simply asked:
Had Sharff seen someone wearing ten strange rings?
Because those rings were likely magical items — some possibly made by Sharff himself.
Of course Sharff had seen!
They were just in his house!
But did he dare say so?
No way!
That was a demigod!
He couldn't tell the visitor, for fear of retribution.
But he also didn't dare tell Ashes and Alger — for fear of being silenced afterward.
He Has a Problem.
At the corner at the end of the street, Alger looked at Sharf's mansion and said in a deep voice, "When he saw us yesterday, his reaction wasn't that big, but now he suddenly looks afraid to see us."
"Either he accidentally broke your things, or someone is asking him for our information."
The former was naturally impossible; all the magical items were in Ashes hands.
If there had been any problem, he would have discovered it long ago.
The second possibility was much more likely.
Alger hesitated and whispered, "He probably wouldn't dare to talk, but just in case, should we..."
"No need."
Ashes glanced at Alger, and after a moment's hesitation, he shook his head and said, "It doesn't matter whether he talks or not. More people saw us coming than just him. But this is indeed troublesome. Let's leave as soon as possible."
"Okay."
Alger nodded and couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Sharf had known him for a long time, and it was good to save his life.
However, Alger also knew that Ashes feared trouble.
And coincidentally, he was afraid of trouble too—
after all, anyone could tell at a glance that they were looking for Ashes, and it was very likely they were forces of the demigod who had been killed, most likely the Loen royal family.
Ashes could pat his butt and go back to Backlund, but Alger still had to stay at sea.
So he was more inclined to avoid trouble proactively rather than wait for it to find him.
However, plans often can't keep up with changes.
Although Alger was familiar with Bayam, although they had tried to avoid crowded places, and although they had tried to reach the port as quickly as possible—
when they arrived at the port, they found that the once lively place was now deserted.
There was only one figure on the dock next to the Blue Avenger—a bald man in a suit and leather shoes.
He seemed tired of standing and was squatting on the ground in a very casual posture, legs splayed outward, hands resting on his thighs, looking up and squinting at the two of them.
"He's not here to make friends!"
Alger secretly raised his vigilance and inconspicuously touched the ring on his hand.
It was the magical item he had gotten from Sharf yesterday—the Whip of the Spirit.
"Be careful," Alger whispered. "Remember the gold coin casino yesterday? He's the owner."
He recognized the man in front of him—he had seen him from a distance before.
So he immediately recognized him and determined that he was unfriendly.
But what puzzled him was—
why was he alone?
As the owner of the gold coin casino, he should have had plenty of thugs under him.
"Did you know?"
The bald man looked at the two of them approaching and said leisurely, "This world is very interesting. For example, it has something called the 'Law of Aggregation of Extraordinary Characteristics.'"
"In simple terms, high-sequence items of the same or similar pathways will intermittently and unconsciously attract medium- and low-sequence extraordinary people to their vicinity, leading to a tendency to gather together."
"Low-sequence people know nothing about this attraction, while high-sequence people can sense it."
"Now it seems that this law also applies to outsiders like us."
"Of course, this isn't surprising. After all, you're quite popular."
"However—"
The bald man paused and then suddenly flashed a bright smile.
"It seems I'm one of the first people to find you."
Alger's expression turned strange.
When they first met, he thought this man should have been a serious person.
But why did his voice sound so sleazy?
Ashes stared at the familiar man in front of him expressionlessly, but the bald man just waved his hand and said:
"Don't look at me like that, I'm not going to kneel this time."
"Well... we've long forgotten those little grudges, haven't we?"
Ashes didn't comment on the bald man's words. He simply nodded slightly, then silently pulled out the Irithyll Straight Sword. But after thinking for a moment, he switched it out for the Astra Great Sword.
"Wait, wait!"
The bald man's expression changed slightly, and he hurriedly said, "I'm not here to fight you, at least not now. I have to wait for you and Ge..."
"Wait for what?"
Ashes frowned slightly. Although he hadn't put away his weapon, he paused.
"Tsk."
The bald man clicked his tongue.
"It seems you really were burned by the fire. Your memory loss is pretty serious."
"I did forget a lot of things."
Ashes raised his sword and pointed it at the bald man, speaking slowly:
"But at least, I should never forget you, Patches."
"Then I'm really honored."
The bald man—Patches—had a strange expression and said helplessly, "But no matter what, I don't think I'll have the chance to backstab you again, and you don't have to be so hostile to me, right?"
Ashes maintained a blank expression and just walked toward Patches step by step.
"Hey, hey, hey! No need to go that far, right?"
"No way, no way! You're really going to kill me again after just meeting? Again?"
"Don't you want to know what happened?"
Patches realized something was wrong, and his voice grew more urgent and rapid.
When Ashes heard his last words, he stopped and nodded slightly.
"Go on."
(End of this chapter)
[email protected]/Lives954
currently on chapter 108