Cthulhu America, I can see the kill line.

The salty sea breeze whipped up broken waves, crashing against the rusty dock.

boom!

Amidst the howling wind, Farah was swept solidly by the immense force of the power claws and crashed into a pile of cables that smelled of the sea.

Beneath the charred bullet holes in his purple robe, the micro-munitions fired by the anti-psychic drone, though not lethal, further suppressed his psychic energy circulation.

His left eye was so swollen that it was only a thin slit, and his right eye was so big that he couldn't even open it. Blood dripped from his chin, spreading crimson spots on the deck.

A sharp pain shot through my chest; I probably broke one or two ribs.

With his psychic powers suppressed, the effect of his mind on objects was greatly weakened, and Farah's body was no longer as resilient as before, weakening to the frail state he should have been in.

"So, once a psychic loses their powers, they're no different from ordinary people."

Wendart's maniacal laughter was rough, like gravel grinding against iron, and his imposing, armored figure cast a ferocious silhouette against the leaden sky.

The anti-psychic drones not only sensed Farah's psychic fluctuations, but also fired sniper shots from time to time during their confrontation, hitting the Purple Light Cult leader with many specially made bullets that were not very lethal but could aggravate the suppression of psychic energy.

Wearing armor, Windat was already exceptionally powerful. Facing Farah, whose spiritual power was suppressed, it was almost no different from a young man with weapons beating an old man.

The duel between the two leaders of the underworld gangs in the lower city turned into an absolute massacre.

"You're dying, I can smell it."

Wendat Power Claw pretended to twist his nose, clearly in a very good mood.

"Do you really want me dead?"

Without the protection of his spiritual power, Farah could barely protect his vitals under the fierce onslaught of the Windat Power Claws, but the accumulated injuries had left him on the verge of death.

He had backbone, and never begged for mercy. Even after being kicked several meters away again, he still held his head high.

"No, we only met today, we have no grudges against each other, how could I possibly want you dead?"

Winter denied it, raising his head to look at the sky full of drones.

"Purdue Pharma needs you dead."

Purdue Pharma?

A hint of surprise flashed across Farah's eyes.

"Whether the Rat God will continue to interfere in the mortal realm after the Iron Curtain is destroyed remains to be seen."

Wintert slowly shifted his gaze back to Farah's face.

"But with your death, and without the obstruction of the Purple Light Cult, the Maelstrom Gang, funded by pharmaceutical companies, will no longer be confined to Hills in the future, without the Iron Curtain..."

In Wintert's eyes, a truly greedy purple light flickered: "What does destroying you have to do with me?"

"Why?" Farah coughed up blood and asked with a bitter smile.

Why?

The nearly three-meter-tall giant grinned, bent down, and whispered in his mortal enemy's ear:

"Amerigo betrayed me, betrayed us, all the warriors who shed their blood for that so-called 'freedom'."

Greed flickered in Windat's eyes, but deeper still, there was absolute hatred.

He dedicated his life to Amerigo Vespucci, and what did he get in return?

Unable to receive maintenance subsidies, his body aches day and night, leaving him only able to rely on drinking and living a life of drunken revelry to modify his body!

He wanted revenge, revenge on the entire Amerigo Vespucci!

Even if it means using the power of the pharmaceutical company that killed his father, he will ignite the flames of revenge and set them upon the entire Amerigo Veterans!

"I will take them all back."

Under the gloomy sky, the distant sea breeze carried away Windat's whispers.

"Alright, Farah, at least you died knowing why."

With that, Wendart straightened up and raised his claws.

Everything that needed to be said had been said; it was time to execute Farah.

Just as the giant claw was about to strike, the air seemed to freeze instantly.

At the end of the dock, a purple crack tore open, and a figure emerged from it against the light.

"Is this enemy's psionic interference that severe? I spent half an hour searching at the transit station before finally finding the dock!"

Before you see him, you hear his voice.

That familiar voice, laced with irritated curses, reached their ears.

It is Kong Jiu.

He stepped out of the warp rift and onto the wooden planks of the dock, but it felt as if he were stepping on their hearts.

Those Eastern eyes looked at Wendart and his companion.

Kongjiu's gaze swept past Wendat and landed on Farah, who was lying on the ground, barely alive.

That calm and unwavering gaze made Farah feel as if she had grasped a lifeline.

He didn't stop them or say anything to stop them; he just watched them quietly.

The two heinous leaders of the Lower City also looked at Kong Jiu.

The three of them stared at each other in silence for a moment, and none of them spoke.

"Go for it, Wintert. Should I call and show you the angle to swing your claws?"

During the stalemate, Kong Jiu finally showed a hint of impatience.

"Make a move?" Wintert looked surprised. "Didn't you come to stop me?"

"Prevent?"

Kong Jiu laughed and slapped his thigh as if he had heard some absurd joke.

Under the bewildered and astonished gazes of the two, he laughed heartily for a while before wiping away the tears from the corners of his eyes.

"Come on, if Squich hadn't stopped me, I would have executed you both on the spot."

As Kong Jiu wiped away his tears, he cast an extremely sharp glance at Wendat.

"Once you two have settled your personal score, I'll kill the one who's still alive as soon as possible. Double happiness, it's that simple."

The arrogant words were swept away by the sea breeze, which also caused the hem of Kong Jiu's black trench coat to billow and flutter.

An invisible, heavy pressure spread silently with the clattering of Kong Jiu's trench coat, making the two of them feel suffocated, and even the noisy sea breeze seemed to hold its breath.

Wendart hesitated for a moment, then subconsciously took a half step back.

"Doctor Kong, is this the will of the Rat God?"

His fierce expression hadn't faded, but Wendart's tone became genuinely flattering.

"No, you all still have value to the Rat God, and it's not low." Kong Jiu walked step by step towards Wendat.

His 1.9-meter frame appeared small and insignificant compared to the giant Wendart.

But the increasing pressure and shadow cast by the approaching figure had completely enveloped the other party like a cage.

"However, Squich is also disappointed with your two-faced nature. He's tired of it and doesn't want to get involved in your affairs."

Kong Jiu strolled casually over to the two of them, glanced at the dense swarm of drones in the sky, and felt the suppressive force on psionic energy.

However, his ability to connect with things from the heart was not high to begin with, so this suppression was not serious for him.

Moreover, the Heart-Locking Beetle is deeply embedded within its heart, constantly repairing its physical body. For these mass-produced mortals to suppress an A-grade spiritual object is somewhat delusional.

"And you've been wrong about one thing all along."

Kong Jiu raised his hand and pulled a notebook out of the crack.

"I am the messenger of the Rat God, the chosen one of Squich, but I have always called him Arthur."

He walked up to the two men, his eyes gleaming with a green light: "That rat is my friend. I never need its permission to do what I want."

"There was no redemption for either of you from the very beginning."