A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 136 Summer in the Mountain City (Part 1)

June.

Another rain fell, and the city was shrouded in a charming gray. The already summery Aishwell was surrounded by heat, and even the cicadas were too lazy to sing, only coming to life when it rained and flying to the treetops. Their noisy cicada chirping, along with all living things, was drowned out by the drizzling summer rain.

Sewage flowed through the cracks in the uneven stone road. Shops on both sides were covered with curtains. Grocery stores were hidden in the crisscrossing alleys. The road was extremely narrow, and the moss-covered walls were the only bright spot on this chaotic street.

Woodcutter Street, a gathering place for woodcutters a thousand years ago. The arcane sorcerers of the academy needed wands and were extremely picky. They would only take a small section of the core from a whole tree. Woodcutters would pile up ancient trees from the foot of the mountain or from all over the country here, hoping to be noticed by the arcane sorcerers and sold for a good price.

Time has passed, and the towering ancient trees of Woodcutter's Street are long gone, but the customs of commerce have been preserved, turning it into a black market, a common feature in every city. It mostly sells trinkets that the gentlemen of the eastern city wouldn't even look at—

These included arcane artifacts from small workshops, rotting carcasses of magical creatures, muskets or bootleggings leaked from the battlefields of the Western Continent, and more often, illicit activities such as selling stolen goods or buying and selling female refugees.

The fact that the shops are hidden behind curtains suggests that the businesses here are not legitimate. Even in Seaville, where the security is generally average, this is one of the most dangerous areas. There is not a single law enforcement officer to be seen from beginning to end on Lumberjack Street, and the only sound on the whole street is the sound of rain.

The sound of hurried footsteps broke the tranquility of the street. A girl ran through the rain, holding an umbrella, her long pink hair flowing behind her like a striking beacon.

The merchants hiding behind the curtain were all drawn to her. Such a beautiful woman was a rare sight in Westwell. Judging from her school uniform, she should be a student at St. Mary's Girls' Private School in Eastwell. That school was run by the White Church, and the girls who could study there were either rich or noble. Why would she be here?
But soon they withdrew their meddlesome gaze.

A menacing-looking man with a tattoo on his forehead was leisurely chasing after her.

He was noticeably taller than the average person from the Southern Continent, nearly two meters tall, with broad shoulders like a brown bear. Even in the sweltering summer, he wore a leather jacket with fur trim, and rain streamed down his narrow nose and thin lips, giving him a typical Northern appearance.

Part of the tattoo on his forehead looked like it had been burned, but upon closer inspection, one could discern the words "Gulag Prison 1370*078". The Gulag Prison was located in the northern border of the Philippine Empire and was the most heavily guarded prison in the empire, filled with nothing but the most vicious criminals.

"1370" signifies the year of imprisonment, while "078" indicates that this person was the seventy-eighth person to be imprisoned that year. Gulag prisons are typically a no-go zone, with most prisoners serving life sentences, so there is no year for the prisoner to be imprisoned.

This is a prison escapee who fled from the Philippine Empire.

In Eswell, these imperial escapees formed one of the three giants of the underworld, the "White Bandits." Those who possessed Gulag tattoos were the core figures of the White Bandits, each a desperate outlaw with extremely ruthless methods.

The shop owners on Woodcutter Street all had underworld connections. Seeing the girl fleeing in panic and his expression of enjoying the hunt, they knew exactly what he was up to. They all quickly closed their curtains and pretended not to have seen anything.

He chased after the girl at a leisurely pace, his speed almost superhuman; with a single kick, he could leap four or five meters away.

The girl he was chasing was just an ordinary person who staggered as she ran. Logically, she should have been caught long ago, but he would occasionally rush ahead of her, forcing her to change direction and flee in a panic into a less and less crowded alley.

"Help—help me!!!" the girl cried out in terror.

In Eastwell, such a plea might perhaps receive a response. But in Westwell, shrouded in an underground order, especially in remote areas like Lumberjack Street, who would care?

"Ha, baby, run! Those are really beautiful legs, you'd better save your energy, otherwise you won't be able to spray very high when they start shaking."

He uttered disgusting words, his lustful gaze sweeping across her shoulder, and the girl was driven into a dead end just as he had planned.

Even in the long course of his life, this was the first time Anleke had encountered such an exceptional person.

In the Philippian Empire, supernatural powers are not acquired through the church or other extreme means, as they are in the Southern Continent. Anyone who joins the army and performs exceptionally well has the opportunity to use magical potions.

His extraordinary power inflated his ego and ego. The first time, he was simply overwhelmed by the pressures of military life and, in a moment of drunken folly, he forced himself on a nurse. He was then sent to the Gulag and imprisoned there for twenty years.

Even the hardships of prison life couldn't make him forget the taste of such unbridled behavior. After arriving in Eswell, picking prey on the streets became Anlexis's way of suppressing his out-of-control behavior.

He is an extraordinary being, and a Sequence 8 skilled in combat. In this city, which is strictly protected by the Academy, he can do whatever he wants as long as he doesn't mess with the elites on the mountaintop or the students of the Academy.

During his time in the Empire, he was still bound by the honor of being a soldier, but his morality and integrity had long been eroded by his long imprisonment. After joining the gang, he became even more unscrupulous, and over the years he has harmed countless women.

But the people of Sewell always lacked something. He only dared to act casually against refugees or orcs who were not valued by the council. They were all suffering people who would silently endure such things in silence, and there were very few screaming protesters.

This left Anlexis feeling utterly bored. After leaving the Empire, he lost his means of obtaining potions. He couldn't buy Sequence 7 potion recipes from gangsters alone, and even if he had the recipes, collecting the materials would be incredibly difficult. The hopeless days made his traits increasingly dangerous, and his premonition of losing control grew stronger. Even when he went hunting in the streets, the bland taste couldn't soothe his restless soul.

Anxie wouldn't dare go to East Wales.

The Southern Continent is not a lawless, chaotic place. Most people in Xiwell have cheap lives, and the officials can turn a blind eye to minor rape cases that do not result in death. However, if he dares to cross that city wall, the "instructor" hiding behind the law enforcement officers will come looking for him.

Even the Eswell Council is consistently ruthless in its treatment of those who dare to break the law with supernatural powers. Anlexi doesn't have any powerful figures behind him who can make him disregard the law. Whether for the sake of the gang or his own safety, his hunting grounds can only be in remote urban areas like Westwell.

But the surprise this girl brought him was like fishing in a muddy pond and catching a diamond ring, almost instantly igniting Anlexi's desire.

Her beautiful pink hair, reminiscent of cherry blossoms, her bright, large, and clear eyes, her delicate oval face, and her small, straight nose exude a youthful radiance. However, the exaggerated bulge in her chest seems to contradict her age, and just standing there is enough to make one's blood boil.

The uniform of St. Mary's Girls' School spoke volumes about her status; the elite of Eswell considered it an honor to send their daughters to St. Mary's, and such a girl could not possibly be alone in a remote area like Sewell.

But she just kept wandering around in front of Anleksei, as if she were lost, blankly asking for directions. Anleksei followed her for an hour, and after confirming that no one was following him, he happily chased away three thugs who had the same idea as him, and then patiently drove her here.

There were no eyewitnesses, and the surrounding merchants knew that she was a White bandit and would not speak out. It was just a pity that Anleke usually did not kill people, but he could not leave a girl with such a background alive.

He could barely contain his desire. He decided to take her back. Whether it was her looks or her status, the pleasure she could bring would far exceed that of an ordinary woman, and could even quell the uncontrollable impulses of his extraordinary nature.

"What are you going to do?"

She had nowhere left to retreat, her voice sweet and soft, and Anleke, blinded by lust, was already imagining how beautiful her cries would sound.

He licked his lips and smiled as he slowly made his way deeper into the alley.

Then, in the darkness, he saw the eyes of the girl he had been chasing all the way.

She neither trembled with fear, nor did she exhibit the despair of someone suffering a tragic fate, nor did she seem like a stubborn, unyielding woman who would rather die than submit.
On the contrary, they seemed rather cunning, as if they were waiting to see a good show.

Anlexithy stopped abruptly, quickly left the alley to look around, then returned with a grim face. He had almost been fooled.

"Little sister, you dare to come to a place like this without an adult with you? Want to play a game with your uncle?"

The girl, who seemed to be bluffing, backed away, shouting, "My boyfriend's here. If you dare come any closer, he'll beat you up!"

"Really?"

A look of displeasure flashed across her face. She's not a virgin anymore?
Tsk, these promiscuous women of high society, so young and already messing around. Anlexi, who was about to commit rape, felt his beautiful expectations were dashed by the thought of not getting the first taste.

"I'm moving forward, and then what? If your boyfriend doesn't come out soon, I'm going to... uh..."

Anlexi, who was about to unzip his pants, suddenly froze.

A balding, beer-bellied old man suddenly appeared in front of the girl.

Holding a bottle of beer, he said listlessly, "Quinn, isn't this a bit too much of a perverted joke? Did you take the picture?"

A chilling premonition swept over him; had this old man teleported out of nowhere?!

Instinctively preparing to back away, Anlekesei heard a lazy voice coming from behind.

"Taken! A perverted superhuman in Xicheng District was chasing a girl in the street. Is that enough?"

Anlexi turned around sharply, and through the rain, a dark-haired man in a loose shirt stood behind him, holding an umbrella and a camera, his gaze indifferent.

"When did you start following me?"

"Following him all the way."

Anleke was taken aback, staring at it for several moments before finally making an impression on the unremarkable face.

Woodcutter Street was, after all, a market street, and even on rainy days there were still some pedestrians. When he was chasing the girl, he always felt that someone was looking at him. But everyone on this street, whether they were merchants or customers, had some shady dealings. He didn't care because of his identity as a White Bandit, and just treated them as pedestrians.

This guy looked increasingly familiar; he seemed to have been in his field of vision the whole way, but he subconsciously ignored him, treating him like a passerby.
why?
"Hey, what are you doing taking my picture?" Anleke didn't get angry immediately, but asked in a gloomy tone.

Quinn fiddled with the camera, took out the film, and put it in his pocket.

"Completing Adventurers' Guild quests—collecting evidence of crimes committed by extraordinary individuals—counts as equivalent to completing a Silver-level quest, with a reward of ten gold pounds."

He took out a badge with a sword and shield; it turned out to be an adventurer.

The silver-like texture indicates that it has already completed quite a few tasks and is at the silver level.

I'm so sorry.

After hesitating for a long time, Anleke forced a smile: "She's your girlfriend? It's a small misunderstanding. What can I do to ask you to destroy the film?"

Crimes are neither a major nor a minor matter. When the Adventurers' Guild receives such evidence, it usually hands it over to the government. If the government approves the evidence and chooses to issue an arrest warrant, the Adventurers' Guild will also issue a bounty for the extraordinary individuals.

However, few governments would do this. Only powerful countries like Ron, Britain, and the Eastern Kingdom would strictly regulate superhumans. Otherwise, unless they are out of control or violate the rules of the religion, "legitimate" superhumans who have registered possess certain privileges.

Unfortunately, this place, Aiswell, is one of the few places that strictly manages superhumans. The association hands over clues to the academy. If he had really attacked the girl just now, he would almost certainly be doomed with this film.

Fortunately, it only captured footage of the chase, which doesn't really prove anything, and he can defend himself.

However, the sudden appearance of these two people was too strange. He, a Sequence Eight, had no sense of them at all, which was very suspicious. And since no gang members accompanied him when he went out hunting, it was best to be cautious when he was alone.

Quinn remained silent, waiting for what was to come.

“These photos don’t prove anything, and the Adventurers’ Guild won’t accept them.” Anlexie paused. “However, I can buy them for thirty gold pounds, which is twice as much as the Guild’s meager reward. What do you think?”

He pulled out a small gold bar, one of the hard currencies in underworld transactions, which, in terms of weight, was worth thirty gold pounds.

He didn't mean to buy the film; what he really meant was, "I'll give you thirty gold pounds as compensation for your girlfriend, and that's it. Let me leave."

Sure enough, Quinn was greedy for money.

"Oh no, bad news, the camera's light source matrix has lost its magic."

Hearing this, Anlexithy breathed a sigh of relief and tossed the small gold bar over.

As one of the core members of the White Bandits, this amount of money wasn't much to him, but avoiding a conflict with a potential superhuman was a worthwhile trade-off.

After receiving the gold bars, Quinn placed the camera and umbrella in a corner where they wouldn't get wet, and then blocked the road.

Under Anlexithy's unfriendly gaze, he took out a wand.

"When there's bad news, there's always good news. The good news is that the wand has magic now."

The elder wand suddenly lit up, and a blade made of mana extended out, transforming into the shape of a katana.

Anlexithy wasn't stupid; his voice immediately turned grim: "...You came for me from the start?"

The obese old man behind him said, "Don't worry about me. I won't help you. Just kill him and you can leave."

(End of this chapter)