Quadruple split.

Chapter 2871 Taking a Dominant
Ethan Mudfist is undoubtedly an epic-level powerhouse. Although he is by no means outstanding among epics and does not have abilities such as 'domains' that can maximize his advantages, he is still a genuine epic.

Typing Warrior, without a doubt, is only at the peak of the high-level. At least a few seconds ago, this [Burning Flame] guild leader, who had just rebuilt his character after being brutally murdered by Lancelot, was still at the high-level of level 50 with his main class.

However, at this moment, Ethan has become a dead man, while the Typing Warrior, whose style is completely different from usual, has transformed into the sixth Epic-rank player in the [Innocent Realm].

As for the elderly tree spirit 'Old Tree', who was stunned in front of the table, he raised his head in disbelief, looking at the cat-orc half-human who had casually lifted his hood, was now fiddling with the black feathers on his cloak, his face sickly pale, and was scrutinizing him with unsettling scarlet vertical pupils. The half-human, half-human cat stammered, "You...you're from that [Fire Reborn Guild]..."

"Commander? President? Bandit leader? Boss? You can pick any title you like to call me."

The Typing Warrior spoke with a smile as he elbowed Ethan's corpse off the chair to the ground, then sat down without ceremony. He raised his left hand, pinched the blade of the dagger between his index and middle fingers, and slowly wiped away the barely perceptible bloodstains. A bright and cheerful smile played on his lips: "But in my personal opinion, I'm just a mascot who's been unfairly blamed. Ha, I don't know when it started, but whenever those guys cause trouble, it always ends up being pinned on me... What a miserable life."

Old Tree swallowed hard and said with difficulty, "Your Excellency Chairman, isn't what you're doing a bit against the rules?"

"That's true."

The typist smiled slightly and said in a light tone, "If it weren't for Mr. Ethan and your [Yellow Dog] mercenary group taking the rules so lightly, I'd probably feel a little guilty right now, wouldn't I?"

Are you asking me?

Old Tree stared stiffly at Ethan's corpse and said in a dry voice, "And it's not that he 'wouldn't do anything,' he just 'would feel some guilt'?"

"Just kidding."

The Typing Warrior chuckled and shook his head, saying, "Being killed by someone who isn't even half a step into epic realm is enough to prove that Mr. Ethan is a ridiculous buffoon. Under these circumstances, expecting me to feel guilty towards him is indeed a bit much."

Not even half an epic level?

Old Tree paused for a moment, then discreetly lowered his left hand and made a gesture under the table.

In the next second, the Typing Warrior threw out a total of twelve daggers, accurately piercing the necks of all the [Yellow Dog] members in the tavern, and also cutting off Old Tree's index finger, which he had been secretly gesturing under the table.

[This is high-level???]

Old Tree stared blankly as his subordinates, who had just received the signal but hadn't even had a chance to act, were slaughtered in an instant. He felt a bit numb, to the point that he even forgot the pain of his severed finger.

"Excuse me, but to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings, let me explain a little."

The Typing Warrior smiled and narrowed his cat-like eyes, saying gently, "Although you may find it hard to accept, after seeing Mr. Ethan off, I have barely managed to stumble and stagger into the Epic realm. Although I don't yet have any trendy abilities like domains or enchanted realms, I still don't recommend that you choose to solve problems with violence. After all, that could very well damage our harmony and lead to some regrettable misunderstandings."

You've killed everyone and you're telling me this?

After his mind raced, Old Tree looked around and, confirming that all his subordinates whom he had arranged to be there had been killed by daggers through their throats, said with a bitter smile, "You're right."

"Three days."

The typist changed the subject lightly, fiddling with the dull black dagger in his hand as he said leisurely, "Within three days, I want the rest of the [Yellow Dog] mercenary group to disappear from this city, and not to appear before me or be seen by any member of [Burning Flame] in the days to come, is that alright?"

Old Tree, clearly aware that the other party hadn't consulted his opinion at all, looked stiff and said in a dry voice, "Well... we [Yellow Dog] have been rooted here for too long, and we're quite large. The ordinary members are fine, but many of the officers have families here, so what do you think...?"

"I think so too."

The typist nodded slightly and said understandingly, "So right now, you should be the only remaining [Yellow Dog] cadre in the city."

Old Tree: "...?"

"After all, I had anticipated this problem, so I had already instructed people before I came to take care of your mercenary group's leadership as soon as possible."

The typist smiled innocently and said cheerfully, "Now, [Yellow Dog] should have no worries, right?"

【Finished...】

Old Tree knew very well the devastating impact losing the mid-to-high-level cadres he had personally mentored would have on the entire [Yellow Dog] mercenary group. He also knew that the die was cast. He sighed and then decisively abandoned the plan he had painstakingly cultivated for over thirty years, which was about to bear fruit. He said with heartfelt sincerity, "I will hand over all the information I've gathered over the years about the city's black market, intelligence gathering points, and agents to [Burning Flame]. In addition, I will provide the locations for our two backup bases. Although there isn't much inside, there are still some good things. If you don't mind, Guild Master, it will be a good use of them."

“If you mean 19 Tree Lane and 31 Lakeside Road.”

The typist grinned and said with a smile, "No need to trouble yourself. I've already taken a look at their situation. Given that there might be some foolish turmoil tonight, in order to ensure that the [Yellow Dog] mercenary group doesn't suffer too many losses in the process, we've already had someone move the things inside away beforehand. We'll kill you when you ask for them."

Old Tree: "...?"

"I mean, I'll return the things to you exactly as they are after you ask."

The typist repeated the slightly modified last half of the sentence in a light tone, then added, "If you don't plan to change your work environment."

Old Tree narrowed his eyes slightly and asked softly, "You mean changing your work environment..."

"You are a complete mediocre person, Mr. Old Tree, an ambitious man who is neither capable nor content with obscurity. If it weren't for your constant caution... or perhaps your admirable quality of being afraid of death, you would probably have been kicked to death in some filthy, stinking ditch hundreds of years ago." The Typing Warrior leaned forward slightly, crossed his hands in front of his nose, and said slowly, "But precisely because of this, you don't even have the most basic 'courage' of an ambitious man, so much so that even now, as you're about to die of old age, you can only cower behind a stupid idiot and offer him a few words of advice that are neither too strong nor too weak."

The old tree laughed and nodded gently, saying, "It seems you really know me, Mr. Chairman."

“I don’t know you. In fact, just half an hour ago, I didn’t even know you existed in this city.”

The Typing Warrior shook his head and said calmly, "But I have a friend who also likes to stay behind the scenes. He told me everything about you, about Mr. Ethan, about the Yellow Dog mercenary group, about Blackfire City, and even about No Man's Land. He is fundamentally different from you, Old Tree. He is a truly excellent behind-the-scenes worker. Although he may not be a fraction of your age, he has abilities that you can only dream of."

Old Tree nodded slightly and asked, "So, all the obstacles we've encountered during this time, the strange things that have happened in Blackfire City, and the [Burning Flame] that has almost devoured 60% of the underground resources despite being a newcomer, were all the work of that friend?"

"Yes, he's like a meticulous machine, a slave to reason and logic. He hates risk and accidents, and is only willing to take risks when he is invincible. He's a completely different kind of person from me."

The typing warrior made a helpless expression and sighed softly: "Of course, that guy is not polite at all when it comes to making others take risks. For example, when he suggested that a second-rate rogue with only high-level skills assassinate an epic monk, he didn't even worry about the other party for a second."

The old tree chuckled and shook its head, saying, "I don't think you, Mr. Guild Master, are a second-rate thief. In fact, in the more than nine hundred years since I became aware of things, I have never heard of 'a high-level thief successfully defeating an epic' outside of the bard's stories. And what you just did has completely exceeded my understanding."

“I must correct you a little on this point. Although it may sound like the same thing, I actually have no chance of ‘defeating’ an epic-level powerhouse, even if it’s just an epic-level powerhouse who isn’t very bright.”

The Typing Warrior shrugged and said in a light tone, "I simply 'killed' him. Although I still made meticulous arrangements and plans, compared to the difficulty of 'defeating' him, this is still something that anyone with the will can do."

The old tree stroked its beard: "I'd like to hear the details."

"Oh?"

The typist raised his eyebrows and suddenly asked, "How many people have you killed?"

Old Tree paused for a moment, then said somewhat uncertainly, "I don't remember exactly, maybe ten, maybe fifteen, but it shouldn't be more than twenty."

"Then I'm sorry, I can't explain it to you."

The typing warrior spread his hands and said helplessly, "As for me, up to just now, I should have personally killed about 70,000 people, and indirectly killed about 250,000. The secret to how I just killed Mr. Ethan lies in this series of numbers that may seem unbelievable to you."

The old tree was stunned on the spot, and said in astonishment, "You..."

"I cannot disclose the details, not because I have any secrets, but because some philosophical questions about dimensions are simply too difficult to explain in a few words."

The typist smiled and said leisurely, "Temperature, atmosphere, environment, mood, sound, toxins, alcohol, regular noise, the location of people around, the topic of conversation, the distribution of attention... all of these will increase or decrease the difficulty of the 'assassination'. As for the balance of power between the two sides, it is only one of the more important factors. It is important, but only very important."

The old tree remained silent for a long time before smiling bitterly and saying, "I'm sorry, these things are just too abstract for me."

"That's normal. Just as people can't earn money outside of their own understanding, if you hadn't seen it with your own eyes, I'm afraid none of the reasons I just gave would support your conclusion that 'high-level beings might be able to kill epic beings'."

The Typing Warrior maintained a gentle smile and calmly said, "That's why, although it's not theoretically difficult, almost no one can actually do it. Unfortunately, I have a lot of experience in defeating enemies that are supposedly invincible. So, I became someone 'outside of Mr. Ethan's understanding' and successfully turned him into a dead man."

"..."

After a long silence, the old tree raised its head again and met the eyes of the young man in front of it: "I'm sorry, Mr. Chairman, but I can't imagine my value to you at all."

"You are old enough, know enough, and have a good eye for things."

The typist leaned back comfortably in his chair and said lazily, "We at [Burning Fire] always believe that even if a person has only a tiny bit of merit, they can still play a very cost-effective role in certain situations. So even if you are stupid, clumsy, greedy, lack courage, lack boldness, lack brains, are ambitious but short-sighted, or are afraid of death, you can still play a valuable role if used properly."

Old Tree grinned, stood up, raised his glass to the typist, drank it down in one gulp, and said seriously, "It is an honor to serve you, Chairman."

I appreciate your kind gesture, but I won't drink the wine.

The typist stood up, poured the wine from his glass on the ground, and turned to walk towards the tavern door, saying without looking back, "There are aphrodisiacs inside."

"……what?"

"Hmm, aphrodisiac."

"……what!"

"You have one day to deal with the [Yellow Dog] mercenary group. Go to the Black Street General Store tomorrow night; someone will contact you there."

"……what?!"

Bye.

Chapter 2862: The End