Hell has invaded, but my Hextech is invincible!

As soon as Hex opened the door, he saw three burly men standing in the cramped house.

A beautiful woman with a high nose and short hair was huddled on the bed, clutching a kitchen knife in her hand.

Judging from this, Hextech immediately understood seven or eight parts of the situation.

This is exactly the desperate situation Grace encountered in the original storyline.

If he hadn't come, Grace would have suffered and been tortured to death.

Then, after the invasion of Hell, passing monsters devoured her until she was unrecognizable.

Emily knew the situation in the room better than he did.

As soon as she entered, she sensed the filthy desires emanating from the three men's minds, almost overflowing, as well as the terror and despair in her sister's heart.

"What do you want to do!" Emily was almost going crazy.

Floda slung the pistol behind her hip, subtly pointing it at Hex, a sinister smile playing on her lips: "Oh, isn't this Emily, who's been missing for a month?"

"You're finally back! Your sister was going crazy looking for you."

"Emily!" Grace burst into tears upon seeing Emily, screaming and trying to rush over, but a burly man next to her shoved her back onto the bed, and a gleaming blade was instantly placed against her neck.

"Behave yourself!"

"Let go of my sister! You bunch of bastards!" Emily was in a state of panic, but dared not rashly use her mental abilities.

The three burly men were on high alert. If they put pressure on her, these desperate men might impulsively kill Grace.

Hex frowned slightly and looked up at Froda: "Hey, bro."

"This has nothing to do with you anymore, you can leave."

He pointed to the door, as if to shoo people away.

This arrogant remark made Froda laugh in anger.

There are actually madmen who dare to come to the lower city to manage the Kunk gang's affairs!

We can just detain this pretty girl and this girl together, and then sell them to a restaurant for a good amount of money.

However, as he looked Hex up and down in his smart suit and top hat, a hint of apprehension flashed in his eyes, and he quickly began to make his own calculations.

This attire clearly belongs to a gentleman from the Upper Town.

As a thug in the Quink gang, he understood that he couldn't really go all out without knowing the identities and backgrounds of the members.

However, a fat sheep delivered to one's door must have money in its pocket. Originally, he only wanted to force Grace to sell herself to pay off her debts, but now, a sucker has offered herself up, and he would feel bad if he didn't fleece her.

Or should we kidnap him?

Flora immediately rejected the idea.

However, these are people from the Upper Town. Although the Lower Town is Quink territory, they've really offended the gentlemen of the Upper Town. If the City Hall investigates, it will be very troublesome.

But he was all alone, with a blind little girl by his side. Even if he used some tricks to steal his money, he couldn't possibly retaliate in a big way.

After all, gentlemen in the Upper East Side value propriety above all else.

Besides, Grace took the initiative to borrow the money from them, so they are in the right and have nothing to be afraid of.

"Gentleman, you probably don't know where you are," Floda said with a forced smile. "This isn't your garden house in the upper town; this is the lower town of Manchester, the territory of the Quincy gang."

He paused, then deliberately adopted a reasonable tone: "We're here to collect a debt."

"Grace owes us a large sum of money in her search for the missing Emily."

"She can't pay it back now, so we have to follow the gang rules and collect this debt."

"Sister!" Tears welled up in Emily's pale eyes. "We will pay it back."

"Let her go!"

"Mr. Horus, please give them the money!"

When her sister fell into trouble, Emily was no longer the cunning and dark-hearted little devil she used to be; she became as helpless as a twelve or thirteen-year-old girl.

Hex's lips twitched. Giving money wasn't his style, but he remained outwardly calm, pulled out some pounds he'd swiped from the clothing store, and said casually, "I'll pay off Grace's debt. Let her go. How much does she owe?"

Froda's eyes lit up suddenly, and greed surged up instantly.

Great, he really is a sucker who's willing to spend money!

The original debt of £120 was simply increased further, a hefty sum squeezed out of them!

As a gentleman from the Upper Town, he wouldn't risk his life for such a small amount of money. Even if he thought it was too expensive, he would pay for it to save face.

"Three hundred pounds," Froda blurted out.

"You're lying! It's clearly one hundred and twenty pounds! And I only borrowed fifty pounds!" Grace said incredulously.

"It was 120 before you came in, now it's 300," Froda said, resorting to shamelessness.

"Gentleman, you wouldn't begrudge spending a few coins, would you?"

"After all, she's a great beauty." A lewd grin spread across Floda's face.

"And it's supposedly a juvenile, worth at least a hundred pounds!"

Feeling treated like merchandise, Grace blushed, but with the gleaming blade pressed against her neck, she dared not move.

Hex weighed the money in his hand, estimating it to be only a little over a hundred pounds; clothing stores don't usually have much cash.

However, giving money is out of the question.

However, Hex remained calm: "Release her. Money in hand, person in return."

"Haha, as expected of a gentleman from the Upper Town, you truly uphold the spirit of the contract." Floda bowed respectfully, though he was somewhat surprised.

So easily given in?

He gestured to his younger brother to let go of Grace, and Grace immediately ran to Emily's side. The two sisters hugged each other and cried bitterly, showing no trace of Emily's foul-mouthed and vicious nature.

Hex threw the money to Froda, who quickly counted it, her face instantly darkening, a fierce glint appearing in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, sir, this amount is not enough," Floda said sinisterly.

"Even respectable people in the Upper East Side would do something like withholding money?"

"If you don't want to pay properly, then don't blame us for being impolite!"

They'll take the money and detain the people!

Both women were sold into prostitution!

"Anyway, this money is just temporarily with you," Hex sneered.

"One pound and one hundred pounds make no difference to you."

Floda was about to retort when a sudden chill ran down the back of his neck, and a deadly sense of danger gripped him. His face changed drastically, and without thinking, he frantically reached behind his waist to pull out the pistol hidden there.

But he was still a step too slow.

A figure flashed before his eyes, and Hextech pounced like a hungry tiger, his ferocious aura making the surrounding air seem to freeze.

An arm as hard as cast steel suddenly shot out and gripped Froda's wrist as he was about to draw his gun.

"Snap—!"

A crisp, terrifying cracking sound rang out suddenly. Floda's entire arm was twisted into a pretzel by force, his wrist and arm bones breaking inch by inch, hanging limply at his side. Before the excruciating pain could even register, Hextech's elbow strike came crashing down, landing squarely on his head.

Black Mamba Elbow!

"Bang!"

Floda's head exploded like a watermelon smashed by a sledgehammer, red and white matter mixed with bone fragments flying everywhere, and his body fell straight down, lifeless.

The remaining two thugs were splattered with blood and bits of flesh, their pupils contracted sharply, they were terrified, and their legs trembled uncontrollably.

One of them, mustering his courage, roared and drew his machete from his waist, slashing fiercely at Hextech's neck.

Hextech remained indifferent, casually extending two fingers to catch the rapidly slashing blade.

He exerted force with his fingertips and twisted it gently.

The steel machete was twisted into a tangled mess of scrap metal, as if it were made of soft iron, and fell to the ground. Before the man could react, Hex delivered a powerful kick, striking him squarely in the chest.

The man was struck as if by a cannonball; his body flew backward, crashing through the mud walls of two dilapidated houses before finally falling heavily into the ruins, spitting blood, and then fell silent.

The last thug was utterly terrified. He turned and fled as fast as he could, wanting to get as far away from this menacing figure as possible.

Hextech swayed and caught up with him in an instant, reaching out and twisting his head tightly.

With a sharp "crack," the man's cervical vertebrae were snapped, his head tilted to one side at an odd angle, and his body instantly collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

In the blink of an eye, all three thugs were dead, leaving only a mess and the pungent smell of blood on the scene.

Hex took the hundred-odd pounds back from the headless Floda, patted him down, and found only two shillings and a few pence. He couldn't help but spit.

"You poor wretch!"