Hell has invaded, but my Hextech is invincible!

Chapter 113 Eradicate the Weeds and Eliminate the Roots, Blood Stains the Laurel Crown

Last sat in the back of the truck, the morning breeze gently brushing his cheeks.

His expression was exceptionally calm, a unique composure and relaxation that comes from shedding obsessions and completing a heavy mission.

Across from him, Martin was chatting enthusiastically with his wife about yesterday's farcical public trial.

They stood at a distance and witnessed the brief but incredibly intense public trial. After the trial, they immediately left Newcastle. If it weren't for the church's stopover in a small town, where they would have spent the night, they would be in Birmingham by now.

But even after a night, they still couldn't forget that the once high and mighty Rothschild, like a god, was ultimately dragged roughly onto the judgment platform like a stray dog ​​with its spine broken.

Martin and Rust, as detectives, witnessed the London Metropolitan Police Commissioner and the Deputy Mayor of London, whom they rarely saw even once a year, kneeling before the cross and publicly confessing their crimes.

The impact of those scenes was so intense that even a day later, the excitement in their hearts had not subsided.

Only Raste had no desire to participate in this idle chatter.

For him, this unsolved case was never about excitement, but simply a responsibility that had to be fulfilled, a stubborn determination to see it through to the end.

The Rothschilds' capture was even more swift and decisive than he had imagined.

This matter is now completely over.

Everything that followed had nothing to do with him.

To be honest, Last didn't actually want to leave Manchester for Birmingham; he only did so to accommodate Martin.

He was all alone anyway, so it didn't matter where he went.

Compared to the unfamiliar new city, he would rather stay in Manchester, the land where he was born and raised.

A profound sense of emptiness slowly enveloped him, almost threatening to devour him entirely.

A small, delicate hand gently grasped his palm.

Rust looked down and saw Martin's ten-year-old daughter, Lillian. The child was exceptionally sensitive and perceptive, and she sensed the emptiness in Rust's heart.

The little girl asked softly, "Uncle Last, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Last responded instinctively, managing a faint smile as he ruffled her soft, golden curls.

"It's great that something I've been working on for so long is finally finished."

"Will we come back after we leave Manchester?" Lillian asked, looking at him.

"Probably not," Rust replied softly.

There's nothing here worth staying for.

"But I really don't want to leave here." The little girl drooped her head, her voice soft and tinged with sadness.

Upon hearing this, Martin spoke up to reassure her, "Lillian, Manchester is ultimately too dangerous."

"Birmingham will be much more stable."

The eldest daughter, Liliana, chimed in, "As long as we're together."

"Home is anywhere."

Upon hearing this, Lillian looked at Rust again, her eyes serious yet apprehensive.

"Uncle Rust, will you leave us when we get to Birmingham?"

The scene fell silent instantly.

After finishing their conversation, the Martins turned to look at the silent Rust.

"Hey, partner," Martin said with a laugh, "you're not planning on wandering around alone, are you?"

He knew his partner all too well: stubborn and obstinate, living in his own nihilism for years, aloof and taciturn, not easy to get along with at all.

But it was this obsession that sustained him in his relentless pursuit of solving the long-standing mystery of the missing girl.

If it weren't for him, there would have been no subsequent involvement of Karls, and no struggle between Adelia and the Tuttle family.

"Wandering is fine too." Last looked down at his hands, his tone flat and weary. "I'm a useless person."

"No matter where I go, I'll only cause trouble for others."

"What nonsense are you talking about!" Martin frowned, his tone displeased.

"You are my best partner."

"It's not like that anymore." Rust gently waved his hand, interrupting him.

"We don't even have the identity of a police officer anymore."

"Young Master Adria will help us settle in Birmingham," Martin emphasized.

"Maybe it'll be the same old job."

"But I've had enough of this job." Rust's eyes were filled with gloom.

"This job completely changed me."

"I'm becoming less and less like myself, more like a monster in human skin."

, 7

Before Martin could offer any words of comfort, Lillian gripped his hand tightly once more.

"Uncle Rust, you are a hero in my eyes."

The little girl carefully took out a golden osmanthus crown that she had woven herself from her bosom.

"My mother told me that in Roman epics, only true heroes are qualified to wear a golden laurel wreath."

I'd like to give this to you.

"This is the one you wanted to give to Mr. Hex, the one that failed," Rust bluntly exposed her.

Lillian blushed deeply.

"Hahahaha." Martin and his wife laughed too.

"Lillian, everyone can see you knitting."

"I... I just wanted to make you—happier," the little girl said, twirling her fingers a little shyly.

"Mom, you said that Mr. Hex saved so many people and was a hero."

"But Dad and Uncle Rust are heroes too, they investigated for so long!"

"Heroes deserve to wear golden laurel crowns!"

"Is that so? Then don't I have any?" Martin smiled and ruffled Lillian's hair.

He turned to Rust and said, "This is the highest respect a girl can show."

"Put it on!"

Last looked at the crown of flowers, which was full of childlike innocence.

Last opened his mouth, a complex expression of wanting to laugh and cry appearing on his face.

Hero?

Is someone like him a hero?

"But the end of heroes is always tragically tragic," he murmured.

"No, it won't happen." Lillian shook her head vigorously.

"You will definitely have a good ending."

"Is that so?" Last looked into the child's clear eyes, and a faint smile finally appeared in his eyes.

maybe.

Boom—!

A deafening explosion suddenly erupted!

The entire truck was instantly lifted into the air and rolled over!

An unexpected change occurred!

Without the slightest hesitation, Rust held Lillian tightly in his arms, using his own back to absorb all the force of the rolling and impact.

A short, agonizing scream rang out, then abruptly ceased as the truck crashed heavily to the ground.

Last was so shocked that he was dizzy and disoriented. He managed to clear his muddled thoughts and looked up to see Martin covered in blood.

"Run! Something's happened!"

Last snapped back to his senses, hugged Lillian tightly, and scrambled out of the deformed and damaged carriage.

Martin, despite his injuries, protected his wife and eldest daughter, kicked open the car door, and fled for their lives.

As soon as the group stepped out of the car, several guards from the Adriatic family rushed forward and pushed them aside to protect them behind them.

The next second, a burst of bullets exploded!

The guard at the forefront was instantly pierced by a hail of bullets and fell straight to the ground, warm blood splattering all over Rust's face.

After a moment of bewilderment, a bone-chilling cold swept over my entire body.

It's Tuttle!

The Tuttle family is here!

They really won't let me off the hook!

Alarm bells rang in Last's heart.

Ahead, the remaining Adriatic guards immediately engaged the attacking enemy in a fierce firefight, with gunfire ringing out in rapid succession.

What was once a peaceful suburb has been transformed into a brutal battlefield in the blink of an eye.

Last, holding Lillian, tried to run to the nearby ditch for cover.

But the next round of bullets all hit the edge of the trench, sending dust and gravel flying everywhere.

He had no choice but to protect the child with all his might, lying tightly on the ground.

"Lie down! Don't look up!"

He roared out with all his might.

But bullets rained down on their trench.

Several sharp screams were quickly drowned out by the gunfire.

After an unknown amount of time, the ear-piercing gunfire suddenly stopped.

The noise subsided, and a deathly silence enveloped the entire venue.

Last slowly raised his eyes.

A pair of gleaming silver armor boots suddenly appeared in front of him.

The next instant, a brute force grabbed his neck.

He was lifted off the ground and then slammed back down.

"Damn it! Adelia's guards are incredibly skilled!"

"Three of our brothers were killed!"

The enemy leader spoke with a furious tone.

Last's gaze slowly focused, and he finally saw the person's attire clearly.

His entire body was covered in heavy silver armor, with a cross pattern engraved on his chest.

He had seen this armor from afar during a parade.

Crusades!

The other person, holding a rifle, lightly flicked their toe.

Lillian, who was lying on the ground, rolled over with her small body.

"They're dead." A crusader said calmly.

"Rhodes, I told you not to fire indiscriminately," the leader hissed.

Last's pupils suddenly shrank to the size of pinpoints.

He stared intently at the little girl's bloodless face, while warm blood continued to seep from the gruesome bullet hole in his chest.

My heart felt like it was being torn apart, and excruciating pain swept through my limbs and bones.

"Fortunately, one survived." The soldier next to him glanced at the ground, his tone indifferent.

"It's barely enough to get by."

Last stiffly turned his neck to look to his side.

Martin, his wife, and eldest daughter lay motionless in a pool of blood, their bodies riddled with bullet holes, long since lifeless.

Martin and his wife shielded their eldest daughter with their bodies until their deaths, but the Crusader bullets were too powerful; they could not protect their child, nor could they protect each other.

In a short time, the entire family was wiped out.

They were all dead, killed in that last burst of gunfire.

A burly crusader played with the dagger in his hand and casually tugged at his eldest daughter's golden braids.

"She was pretty, it's a shame she got beaten to death like that."

"Otherwise, it can help me vent my anger!" he chuckled strangely.

Last's mind went blank. Extreme grief and madness overwhelmed his reason, and a hoarse, broken, inhuman growl escaped his throat.

"Roar, haaaaah!"

The jarring noise instantly drew the attention of the two crusaders.

"So noisy." The crusader named Rhodes scoffed and reached out to pinch Rast's mouth shut.

Right now!

boom!

A precise sniper bullet came flying from afar, blasting open his neck.

Rod clutched his neck, which was gushing blood, and his body went limp. He collapsed to the ground and died instantly.

The other crusader immediately became alert and raised his gun to fight back.

"Enemy troops in sight! All personnel on high alert!"

Stray bullets continued to whiz through the air, and gunfire erupted once more.

Last, panting heavily, crawled over on all fours and held the completely cold Lillian tightly in his arms.

Having dealt with corpses for many years, he knew better than anyone else.

The child has completely stopped breathing.

He raised his hand with trembling hands and took out the newly woven osmanthus crown from the girl's arms; it was still warm from being woven.

At this moment, the delicate flower crown was already soaked in blood, a glaring red.

Without the slightest hesitation, Last flipped over and leaped into the ditch beside him, using the last bit of strength in his body to run wildly towards the reeds in the distance.

The Crusaders behind were pinned down by support fire from the shadows and unable to pursue. They could only roar, "He's escaped! Chase after him!"

Covert support is a means of containment for the united front.

After a brief period of suppressed fire, the order to retreat quietly came, and the gunfire in the shadows instantly ceased.

The assembled Crusaders did not rashly pursue the enemy into the reeds.

A soldier stepped forward, lifted the sleeve of the black-clad guard who had just died in battle, revealing the striking inverted cross pattern on the guard's arm.

"No need to chase after them."

He looked at the patterns, his tone calm.

"We've caught a big fish this time."