Alchemists do not need self-cultivation

He was furious, and his underlings around him were also eager to make a move, as if they would take action as soon as their boss gave the order.

George whispered in Isaac's ear, "Boss, they all have guns."

“Great, then they’ll be ours soon.” Isaac didn’t care at all.

Bass, the leader of a large gang in the slums, found Isaac's disrespectful behavior intolerable, but he composed himself and continued.

"Kid, do you know you've broken the rules here?"

"What rules? I've never heard of them before."

"It's against the rules here to sell weapons to Jerry Myer's gang. You broke the rules, kid."

"How come I've never heard of such a rule?"

"Have you heard about it now?"

"I've heard about it. I never take those ridiculous rules seriously. So what if I hear about them?" Isaac scoffed.

Snapped!

Bass slammed his fist on the table and stood up, roaring in a grating voice, "You brats, what do you think this place is?! Fine, I'll kill you all right now!"

"If you have the guts, do it now."

Isaac also stood up, looking at the murderous crowd before him with a mocking tone.

"It's over..." George couldn't help but cover his face.

He's already starting to think about how to get his brain-dead boss out of this place. They haven't even exchanged a few words before things escalated to the point of physical violence.

Honestly, could those two people, without guns, possibly defeat so many armed thugs in the room?

"FUCK! Do it!"

Everyone raised their guns and pulled the triggers on Isaac.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang...

"So this is the one who's going against us... What!?"

Everyone, including George, was stunned.

Several gunshots rang out, but Isaac remained standing in place, and shockingly, the bullets they fired were caught between his ten fingers.

Isaac threw the bullets on the ground and looked at the clock on the wall.

Half an hour.

"what?"

“From the time you sent me here until now, you’ve wasted half an hour of my time,” Isaac said. “You’d better make up for that half hour with an equivalent amount of money, or everyone here will be going to the Western Paradise.”

boom!

Isaac's answer was a bullet.

However, the bullet did not pass through Isaac's head after hitting him; instead, it dented the head and fell to the ground.

Swish!

Isaac vanished from his spot in an instant.

He appeared directly in front of the thug who had just fired the shot, grabbed his head, and slammed it against the wall!

With a loud "bang," his head split open like a watermelon, his brain matter mixed with blood, turning the exquisite wallpaper into a bizarre sight.

Bass was now somewhat terrified and quickly shouted, "Quick! Shoot!"

However, the next second, as Isaac's body flashed wildly in the room, everyone turned into headless corpses lying on the ground, their blood soaking into the carpet and emitting a pungent smell.

"You...you stay away from me, don't come near me!" Bass shouted as he fell to the ground and backed away.

"I originally thought you were here on business, which is why I reluctantly came to meet you, but this puts me in a very difficult position." Under Bass's horrified gaze, Isaac placed his hand on Bass's head. "What's the point of talking to me if you have no money?"

A flash of lightning struck, and he collapsed to the ground, bleeding profusely.

"Old... Boss..."

At this point, George was somewhat incoherent.

"What's wrong, George?" Isaac stretched.

“Boss, I have a question for you,” George said seriously. “Are you a robot?”

"What?"

"I've seen a movie called Terminator. I think you look a lot like the futuristic robot in it, and you seem to be an even more powerful model."

"What are you thinking? I am human, just a little bit stronger than them."

"Boss, you've redefined 'Yi Dian Dian'."

As Isaac rummaged through the blood-smelling room, he said, "Alright, enough talk. We can't leave empty-handed. Let's see what good stuff we can find and loot it."

"Oh."

George had come from the battlefield, so even though the scene was bloody enough, he wasn't surprised. The two of them started searching inside.

"There were a lot of jewels on that corpse named Bass."

"Jewelry? I can make that kind of thing anytime."

Jewelry was no different from trash in the eyes of Isaac, the alchemist.

They can collect their guns and sell them later, but Isaac is looking for something more important.

That is information about the arms dealers who supply weapons to this family.

Not long after, he found a notebook in a desk drawer containing a large number of gang members, including information on two underlings who had been in contact with weapons sellers.

"This place only needs one arms dealer."

Chapter 492: Collaborator

Inside a tavern in the slums, only a handful of people were seated.

The bartender was wiping glasses at the counter, while two people sat in front of him. One was dressed in a suit and tie and looked like a successful person, while the other was dressed casually.

The tavern door opened, and George and Isaac, one old and one young, slowly walked in.

Isaac glanced around and casually sat down next to the man in the suit.

"Tequila, on the ice."

"Ah."

The bartender nodded and then poured Isaac a glass of juice.

"What do you mean?"

"Minors are not allowed to drink alcohol."

"Tsk!"

Isaac now truly hates this twelve-year-old body; it's so inconvenient for him to do anything.

The man in the suit next to Isaac found it amusing and asked, "Young man, pubs aren't places for someone your age. Is there something you need?"

“Looking for someone,” Isaac said, taking a sip of juice.

"Who?"

"you."

The man in the suit's expression changed slightly, while the man next to him in casual clothes narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Little friend, is there something you need from me?"

"The head of the Bass family is dead."

As Isaac spoke, he handed something wrapped in a tissue to the man. The man in the suit opened it and found a small section of a jeweled finger.

He remained silent for a moment.

“I learned from his henchmen that you were the one who supplied them with weapons, Mr. Wilson.”

“…That’s right, I’m the one who supplied them with guns and ammunition,” the man in the suit, or rather Wilson, admitted. “You’re here to seek revenge?”

“I have no grudge against you, but I want to discuss a business deal with you,” Isaac said calmly.

"Business?"

“There are two major gangs in this slum, with countless smaller gangs under them, and besides you, there’s another person who supplies weapons.” Isaac smiled slightly. “Right now, only the two of you can sell weapons in the slum.”

"Yes, we provide weapons support to both major gangs. However, since you wiped out Bass, my profits may decrease significantly in the future."

“This is the business I want to discuss with you,” Isaac said, finishing his juice. “You provide the goods and handle the sales, but I want a share of the profits.”

How much will be allocated?

"I get eight, you get two."

"Hahahaha." Wilson chuckled. "You did nothing, and I just inexplicably reduced my profits by one-fifth? I gave the lion's share to a brat like you? And I even have to hand over the supply?"

"If I increase the transaction amount tenfold, I think you won't feel like you've lost out."

"...You really dare to say that."

“Just tell me whether you agree or not.” Isaac said, pointing to the man in casual clothes next to him and then to the man behind him. “I know that you arms dealers usually bring two bodyguards here, one to take bullets for you and the other to snipe from a distance.”

Behind Isaac, there happened to be a middle-aged man wearing a hat leaning against the wall.

Isaac laughed and said, "If you have confidence in them, why not let them try?"

"I think it's unnecessary. The guy who could kill Bass must be no ordinary person." Wilson decisively refused to take action.

Having spent years navigating the life-or-death struggles of the arms trade, he was a seasoned businessman, and he could sense that the young man before him was not as simple as he appeared.

"So, will you agree to cooperate with me?"

"No, first I need to hear your thoughts on this slum and how to increase sales tenfold."

“No problem, but…” Isaac pointed to the empty cup.

Wilson smiled upon hearing this, took out a hundred dollars from his pocket, and handed it to the bartender.

"Tequila, on the rocks, for this gentleman."