Mystery: The Last Shepherd

Chapter 455 Go ahead and eat shit
Anderson is sweating.

"laugh"

The sweat that had just seeped from his forehead was evaporated by the flames on his body, producing a sharp crack.

Centered on him, the screaming crowd scattered and fled, but after creating some distance, they mysteriously stopped, turned around, and stared at him blankly. It was as if a flock of lambs had surrounded a gray wolf.

"What a misfortune!"

Anderson grinned wryly.

How could someone as intelligent as him not notice something amiss? To manipulate so many people so quietly, causing himself such immense trouble, is something no low-sequence extraordinary being could accomplish—it requires at least a Sequence 4 demigod, higher than himself!

What's going on? Are high-sequence individuals so cheap now? It's one thing to encounter two kings in that sea, but there are two on this small island at the edge of the world?

"It's a misunderstanding, it's all a misunderstanding. We can talk things out."

Anderson knew he couldn't resist, so he spread his hands, made a harmless gesture, and pleaded for peace.

Let's stall for as long as we can, wait a bit—

"—Gascoine will realize something's wrong soon and come to your rescue, right?"

A voice came from the crowd, laughing as he added the second half of what he was thinking.

Anderson was startled, and instantly felt a chill run up his spine and down his feet, exploding in his head.

He was a high-sequence extraordinary being from the audience pathway, and surprisingly—

"—They can even tell what I'm thinking?"

The voice, like a whisper from hell, rang out once more.

"Sir, what exactly do you want?"

Anderson paused for a moment, then suddenly chuckled and said, "Making fun of me?"

When he intuitively sensed the inequality in their strength, he became somewhat indifferent, seemingly emptying his mind completely and asking the question based solely on instinct.

"of course not."

The voice said, "What interests me is your companion, [Blood Monk] Alexander Gascoigne—don't tell me that's just a joke or a lie you made up; you can't fool me."

"Ugh"

Anderson couldn't help but smile wryly, never expecting that a casual remark would lead him into such a predicament.

"What do you want?"

he asked calmly.

"I need your help."

"Help? You want me to work from the inside and launch a sneak attack on Gascoigne for you?" Anderson said helplessly. "You might as well just kill me. We're both going to die anyway."

"Don't worry, I won't make you do those things," the man who seemed to be a demigod said with a smile. "What I want you to do is very simple: deliver this box of gold pounds directly into the hands of the Blood Cultivator."

This box of money?
Anderson was taken aback. Wasn't this just an ordinary box of banknotes?
"Take another look now."

The voice laughed.

Anderson looked down at the sound, opened the box, and his eyes narrowed when he saw the appearance of the coins inside.

The ten-pound notes did not depict the "Founder of the Nation," but rather a bizarre mask on his face. The mask's mouth was wide open, reaching almost to his ears, and remained so, as if it wanted to devour everything in sight.

As Anderson watched, the masks seemed to wriggle slightly, as if they were alive.

It was eerie, twisted, and made one feel uneasy from the bottom of their heart. "I want you to guide the [Blood Cultivator] and have him count all the banknotes."

"That's what the demigod who didn't show himself said."

"Is it enough to just count the banknotes once?"

Anderson asked incredulously.

"enough."

The voice chuckled, "How about that? It's easy for you, isn't it? As a hunter who has experienced the 'Provocateur,' you should have considerable experience in manipulating human nature. As long as you do as I say, I will give you unimaginable rewards."

His voice seemed to carry an irresistible allure, echoing directly in the depths of Anderson's mind, making him subconsciously feel that this was a good deal.

Yes, as long as you agree to this harmless thing, you can gain many benefits.
"Just say 'I promise you'."

The voice continued to persuade.

Anderson took a deep breath, grinned, and grabbed a button from his shirt. It was the only thing he had left from this expedition—an extraordinary item from the "Judge" pathway!
Go eat shit.

He said, tearing off the button.

"Psychic abilities are forbidden here!"

Anderson shouted.

brush!
The button immediately emitted a majestic glow, and invisible rules formed in the space. He felt his consciousness become much clearer in an instant, no longer as helpless as before!
".very good."

The voice did not get angry, but just gave a soft, cold laugh.

"boom!"

An even greater pressure then formed, and the spiritual light emanating from the button in Anderson's hand lasted only a few seconds before it began to flicker, seemingly unable to bear the weight. Without hesitation, he immediately grabbed a silver talisman from his pocket.

"Try this!"

He threw the silver talisman in the direction the sound came from and shouted in ancient Hermes.

"doom!"

That's a talisman made with the teachings of the "Mercury Serpent" and the power of the Goddess of Night, something that can instantly bring misfortune upon the target!
A flash of black light streaked through the crowd, instantly creating a gap as the people, as if suddenly jolted back to their senses, began screaming and fleeing. Behind the crowd, a gentleman in what appeared to be a formal suit was clutching his head, his face contorted in pain.

"It's you?"

Anderson recognized the man's face and realized he actually knew him. "Richardson?"

This is none other than the biggest businessman on Toscate Island, the financial backer behind large, profitable establishments like casinos and the Moulin Rouge!

Despite his surprise, he didn't stop moving. Taking advantage of a slight opening in the opponent's defenses, he raised his right hand and shot a ball of flame into the air.

"boom!"

A blazing white fireball exploded in the air, dazzlingly bright and radiating intense spiritual energy. Anyone on the island of extraordinary ability would have noticed it!
After giving the signal, Anderson quickly ducked and fled into the distance, intending to seize the last opportunity to run as far away as possible and buy himself as much time as possible. He nimbly weaved through the crowd, trying to use the commotion to conceal himself.

But at this moment.

"Roar--"

A deafening roar, filled with intense spiritual intimidation, instantly silenced the crowd. They stood frozen in terror, once again submitting to the control of that being.

Anderson was also startled by the shout. Although he quickly regained his senses, he was delayed for a second or two and was caught by the people around him!

(End of this chapter)