Great, we're doomed now!

Their value isn't very high either. For example, there are statues that are so badly damaged that they can't be identified, furniture that's half-burned, and scrap metal from unknown craftsmen. Without exception, they are all things that are only a few hundred years old, and they are considered the lowest quality items in this Egyptian exhibition hall.

The process was going very smoothly, but I don't know if the cable wasn't secured properly or if the boxes were arranged incorrectly, but just as they passed Bobo's spot, the staff member seemed to lose his footing and fell to the side, knocking over the entire mountain of wooden boxes in the process.

With a loud crash, it slammed into the nearby shop window, cracking the glass but thankfully not breaking it. The boxes, however, fell one after another, their loose lids bursting open, and all sorts of things mixed with plastic spilled out and scattered all over the floor!

Wow!! Legs! My legs!

The worker's calf was hit by a wooden crate, and he screamed in agony, his face contorted in pain: "Someone, someone help me!"

"Hey, hey, don't move!"

Many tourists were startled and quickly moved away from the accident site, but Bobo took the initiative to help move the boxes away.

"Dude, you shouldn't have stacked the boxes so high."

"Impossible! I was so careful!" The person who was hit cried out in pain, but still stubbornly insisted, "The accident just happened suddenly, everything went white before my eyes... It's a curse, it's the Pharaoh's curse!"

"Idiot! I told you to be careful! No, don't talk nonsense about curses... it's all baseless!"

The security guards and workers inside rushed over, and even they couldn't help but feel a chill when they heard the Pharaoh's curse.

Bobo wasn't afraid. He carefully moved the box to rescue the injured person. Meanwhile, some people went to get the first aid kit, some wanted to carry the stretcher, and others hurriedly picked up the collection and resealed the account. It was a chaotic scene.

Just as Bobo was about to get up, a cold glint reflected from a pile of paper strips and foam caught his attention.

Perhaps it's because warriors are naturally more sensitive to this kind of thing, but Polnareff inexplicably reached out and picked up an ancient sword that was pitch black and covered in rust.

It seemed as if the blade had been ejected due to the vibration, and the eerie, cold light reflected in the man's eyes, as if some strange magic was drawing him in.

At this point, Bobo didn't care about manners anymore; he simply gripped the hilt and slowly pulled the knife out.

吱

The expected smoothness and sharpness did not materialize; the process of pulling it out was quite difficult. The rust inside made a teeth-grinding sound as it rubbed against the blade, and apart from the very beginning, the rest of the blade was dull and unremarkable, having lost the charm that a famous sword should have. Only the lines revealed that it had once been an elegant killing weapon.

"Tsk, what a pity~"

Bobo frowned and shook his head slightly.

The center of gravity, the point of force, the balance, the length, and the curve all suited his taste, but the blade was so rusted that its strength was already extremely fragile. If he were to use it to fight someone else, it would probably break with a single blow.

Hmm? What am I thinking about while holding this antique?

—Realizing his ridiculous idea, Bobo couldn't help but laugh.

Just as Bobo was about to reluctantly sheath his sword, the reflection in his eyes caught his eye again. He unconsciously tightened his grip on the ancient weapon, his gaze gradually becoming profound.

"But...on closer inspection, it really is an excellent knife...it would be such a waste to put it back in that dark, sunless box."

He had never stared so intently at a long sword. This antique seemed to attract him even more than the "Silver Chariot," making him want to touch it a few more times.

Is this due to the swordsman's love for his weapon, or the magic of the sword itself?

It's hard to explain, but Polnareff does feel "captured" now, like he's met a stunning beauty he's fallen in love with at first sight.

Gradually, even my consciousness began to fade...

"This gentleman?"

"……Um?"

"Thank you for your help. Now you can leave it to us."

The staff member came up to take the scabbard, but an accident occurred when they tried to remove the knife—

Polunarev did not give up.

"……gentlemen?"

"what are you doing?"

"what?"

"Shouldn't this kind of thing just sit there collecting dust?"

Polnareff picked up the knife, ran his fingers along it as if caressing a lover, and then looked down at the other man.

"This knife deserves a better home!"

Overwhelmed by this imposing manner, the staff member stammered, "But, but—"

Clang!

With a flash of light, the stun batons on the security guards who were approaching were instantly severed!

Immediately afterwards, the belt, collar, and hat were torn apart as if they had been rolled by a blade, but the skin and flesh were completely unharmed!

"Excellent! It truly is a peerless sword worthy of me!"

Chapter 128 An unexpected encounter with a fully-fledged Bobo, and a "hard-fought" victory achieved with all one's might.

Ye Shou arrived at the foot of François's statue ahead of time, but this was not a painter who left a strong mark on art history, but a king of France in the 16th century who ordered the Louvre to be rebuilt twice.

He is far less famous than Henry II of neighboring Great Britain, who founded the Plantagenet dynasty, but the Louvre has clearly remembered this important patron, placing his statue in Place Carrousel, right behind the Arc de Triomphe du Triomphe, standing in the distance alongside masterpieces by many great artists.

But Ye Shou soon regretted it, because the location of the statue was not very conspicuous. He should have agreed to meet at "Ma Li's Steed".

He waited patiently for a while, but Polnareff did not arrive. Suddenly, his ears twitched, and he heard a slightly noisy sound in the distance. Some tourists hurriedly walked out of the museum, their faces pale, and headed towards the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel, as if something was chasing them from behind, and they were eager to leave the Louvre.

Upon seeing this, Ye Shou perked up and turned to look at the doorway. Although it seemed unlikely... could it be that he had encountered a Stand user in such a place?

Before they even met Joseph, they encountered Dior's henchmen first?

Considering the timeline, he should indeed have known that Grandma Enya had failed...

Before Ye Shou could even enter, a haughty yet familiar mohawk appeared in the crowd, its silver fur standing on end, dazzling like a torch in the sunlight.

At times like these, Ye Shou couldn't help but curl the corners of his mouth, barely managing to suppress it.

Polunarev, carrying his bundle, strode over with remarkable composure amidst the hurried pedestrians.

Ye Shouzhen was about to greet him when his expression suddenly changed, and he slowly lowered his raised right hand, watching him walk over quietly.

The man walked past four meters away, as if he hadn't seen Ye Shou at all.

"Hey, Polnareff, have you forgotten our promise?"

"Ok?"

Hearing someone call her name, Bobo stopped and turned her neck. Her slender eyes glanced at Ye Shou, and her expression became slightly absent-minded.

"Oh... Ye Shou, I knew I'd forgotten something."

"It seems like something happened in the exhibition hall?"

"It's just that someone broke the shop window while moving things, it's no big deal."

"That's good."

Ye Shou nodded, but his eyes suddenly sharpened: "Speaking of which, something seems off about your luggage. That sword sheath seems to have gotten longer."

"You mean this? This isn't a scabbard."

Bobo proudly unwrapped the bundle: "It's a complete sword now!"

A layer of fabric slipped off, revealing not only the scabbard passed down through generations of the Bobo family, but also an ancient sword that had fallen out of the box!

— Ye Shou's pupils contracted slightly.

Although it looks very different from what I remember, there can only be one possibility:

Anubis!

This has no real connection to the jackal god in Egyptian mythology; rather, it is a substitute without a physical body, using a sword as its vessel!

Legend has it that it was originally a stand-in for a swordsmith five hundred years ago. However, after the swordsmith, who was human, died, it did not disappear but instead attached itself to this famous sword. As the swordsmith's relic, it was left to gather dust in various warehouses until it eventually ended up in the hands of a museum.

Originally, this Stand had fallen into a dormant state over the long years to avoid energy depletion, and it would never have woken up unless it encountered some special people... Did this sword sense Polnareff's presence?

"Where did this knife come from?" Ye Shou asked calmly, without changing his expression.

"From a narrow and smelly box."

Polnareff stroked the scabbard with fascination: "It must really want to come with me, otherwise how could I have happened to see it like that?"

Ye Shou chuckled upon hearing this: "So you stole it?"

"Yes, take it!"

Polnareff frowned and said in a stern voice, "Can a swordsman's business be called stealing?"

I'm making the most of it; it'd just be gathering dust anyway... I'm about to face off against the legendary villain, don't you think I should get a sharper weapon?"

"You already have a body double, don't you?"

"The silver chariot is certainly good too!"

With a thud, all the luggage, including the family heirloom sword sheath, fell to the ground, but Bobo didn't even glance at it, instead carefully playing with the ancient sword.

"But I still feel... this knife suits me better. With it, I'm a first-rate swordsman..."

Ye Shou, who had been relatively calm, changed his expression slightly upon hearing these words, and his eyes became much sharper.

"Pick it up."

"……what?"

"Pick up the scabbard!"

Ye Shou took a half step outward, a simple movement that boosted his aura, making him seem rooted to the spot and unshakeable.

"I told you to pick up the scabbard, Popo!"

"Nonsense. That's my stuff. How I decide what to do with it is none of your business, right?" Polnareff narrowed his eyes, his tone annoyed and dissatisfied.

"It is indeed none of my business, but the Polnareff I know would never throw his 'reputation' on the ground!"

He wouldn't say that one needs famous swords to become a top-tier swordsman. Even if he only had a piece of iron in his hand, he would still call himself a master swordsman and dare to draw his sword against any formidable enemy!

Ye Shou stretched out his hand and said seriously, "Now, give me the knife, Bobo!"

"Don't call me that!"

Polnareff gripped the scabbard, took a half step back, tilted his body slightly, and pointed his other hand at Ye Shou, just enough to maintain his balance.

"This knife is mine now! I will never... let it gather dust again!"

"understood."