Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Saint Laurent City once again welcomed a quiet night.

As Siron walked out of the Iron Cross Club, his steps were unusually slow, as if he were deep in thought.

Instead of going straight back to his dormitory, he turned into a secluded alleyway called "Craftsman Street".

Deep in the alley, a dim yellow light emanates from a grocery store whose signboard is half rotten.

Xilun walked to the counter and tapped his fingers on the greasy wooden board.

"Give me a cigarette, the cheapest kind."

His voice was hoarse, as if he had grit in his throat.

He laid out two pennies at the counter.

The grocery store owner was a one-eyed man. His only remaining eye was cloudy and yellowish. He stared at Xilun for a second like a dead fish before slowly turning around and rummaging through the shelves.

Xilun turned to the side, his gaze seemingly casually sweeping over the surroundings.

In the shadows at the end of the alley, a black four-wheeled steam locomotive was parked.

The car was painted black and had no license plate. It looked like it had been parked there for a long time, and a very faint white mist occasionally wafted out from the boiler exhaust pipe.

In this slum where even horse-drawn carriages are a rare sight, a steam-powered four-wheeled cart stands out like a gold brick thrown into a garbage dump.

"Give."

The shopkeeper slapped a crumpled, cheap cigarette on the counter and counted out a quarter-pence coin to make change.

These cigarettes are usually mixed with dried leaves and sawdust, and have a pungent but strong taste.

"Could I borrow a light?"

Xilun put the cigarette in his mouth and leaned towards the kerosene lighter the boss handed him.

"Zzz."

The flames leaped up, illuminating his overly calm face.

His eyes felt that familiar dryness and stinging sensation. He blinked and took another drag.

Xilun took a deep breath, the pungent smoke swirling in his lungs before he slowly exhaled.

He leaned against the wall, smoking one cigarette after another.

The cigarette butt glowed and the ashes fell onto the muddy boots.

Only when he felt a burning sensation at his fingertips did he throw away the cigarette butt, crush it out with his toe, and turn to walk towards the other end of the alley.

"Um?"

Xilun looked at the street photos on the roadside, which read "Grey Rat Street".

Isn't this supposed to be Craftsmen's Street? Why has it been renamed Gray Rat Street?

"Buzz—!"

The silent black motorcycle behind us suddenly roared.

The boiler was instantly pressurized, the pistons pounded wildly, and the heavy car body, carrying a suffocating wind pressure, slammed into the back of the Siren.

No warnings, no hesitation.

This is designed to smash people into a pulp.

Xilun's pupils suddenly contracted.

The images of the eviscerated corpses I had seen a few days ago, along with the rumors about the Black Death cult capturing strong sacrifices, flashed through my mind.

He didn't turn around; his body reacted instinctively.

The Iron Wall Breathing Technique was activated instantly, and the originally lukewarm energy in the body exploded like ignited gunpowder, pouring into the legs.

He suddenly lunged to the side and forward, his whole body tumbling and rolling on the ground like a gecko flying close to the ground.

"Bang!"

The safety bar slammed into the wall where Xilun had just been standing, sending bricks flying and leaving the entire wall riddled with spiderweb-like cracks.

Before the car door was opened, the passenger-side window suddenly rolled down.

A hand wearing a black leather glove reached out, holding a strangely shaped short gun with a slender barrel.

Pepper box.

Or, to put it another way, a "percussion-fired smoothbore pistol!"

Xilun's still-rolling body suddenly stiffened, and the chilling sensation of being targeted by a venomous snake instantly pierced his scalp.

"Bang!"

A burst of orange-red flame shot from the muzzle.

Xilun felt as if his left shoulder had been struck hard by a red-hot iron hammer.

The immense impact halted his rolling motion, and he crashed heavily into the mud.

"You hit it."

A deep, impatient voice came from inside the car.

"Hurry up, before the patrol officers get here, go down and finish them off, then take the body with you."

The car door opened.

Two men in black trench coats jumped down.

They wore bird-beak masks, a typical attire of the Black Death cult.

One of them was carrying a sharp scalpel, while the other was the gunman who had just fired the shot, holding a pepper spray box that was emitting black smoke.

The gunman glanced at Xilen, who was lying on the ground convulsing in "pain," sneered, and strode closer, intending to finish off his prey with another blow.

five meters.

three meters.

one meter.

Xilun, who was lying on the ground, suddenly sprang up.

Like a corpse that suddenly rises from the dead.

He suddenly sprang up, his left hand moving with lightning speed, grabbing the gunman's wrist that was holding the gun.

[Police Martial Arts - Joint Reversal Grappling]

Instructor Rein had demonstrated this move countless times, but in Siren's hands, it had an added ferocity, as if he had crawled out of a pile of corpses.

"Snap!"

A sharp, teeth-grinding crack.

The gunman's wrist was snapped backward, the white bone fragments piercing through the flesh.

"ah--!"

The scream had barely escaped his throat when Xilun delivered a powerful punch that slammed it back down.

Xiren held nothing back in this punch.

His internal strength was released without reservation, and his fist was as hard as a piece of granite.

"Bang!"

The fist slammed into the gunman's abdomen.

The immense force pierced through the abdominal muscles, wrecked the intestines, and even injured the spine.

The gunman arched up like a boiled shrimp, his eyes bulging, and blood and foam mixed with pieces of internal organs spurted from his mouth. He couldn't even scream before collapsing to the ground.

All of this happened too fast.

The accomplice with the knife was so close that he didn't even have time to react.

Xilun seized the pepper box pistol.

The cold, metallic touch made him frighteningly calm.

Without the slightest hesitation, or even adjusting his posture, he raised his hand and fired a shot.

"Bang!"

Close-range shooting.

The accomplice holding the knife looked down in disbelief at the bloody hole that had exploded in his abdomen.

This old-fashioned smoothbore gun was extremely inaccurate, but its power was astonishing within seven paces.

The lead bullet churned inside his stomach, turning his internal organs into a paste.

The man staggered back two steps, dropping the scalpel from his hand. He clutched his stomach with both hands, making a "hoarse" bellows sound.

Xilun stepped forward expressionlessly.

He threw away the gun that had missed its target, his hands flashed out, grabbed the man's head, and twisted it forcefully.

"Click."

The crisp sound of a broken cervical vertebra was particularly clear in the alley.

The man's head drooped at an odd angle, and his body slid down like a puddle of mud.

The alleyway fell silent once more.

"Huff... huff..."

Xilun leaned against the car door, panting heavily.

He glanced down at the two corpses on the ground.

He committed murder.

Moreover, they were two heretics.

"justifiable defense?"

Xilun gave a self-deprecating twitch at the corner of his mouth.

In this downtown area where there are no surveillance cameras, no forensic doctors, and the police only serve the rich, who can you talk to about legitimate self-defense?

If the Black Death finds out he did it, there will be another nameless corpse floating in the Greywater River tomorrow.

It must be cleaned thoroughly.

Despite the excruciating pain in his shoulder, Xilun squatted down.

He first wrapped his fingers in his sleeve and picked up the pepper box pistol that had fallen to the ground.

Brand new.

The gun barrel still smelled of gunpowder, and the grip was engraved with exquisite patterns.

This thing costs at least five pounds on the black market.

He quickly tucked the gun into his pocket.