Chapter 198: Twenty-second Episode: Chapter 8
Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

When narrating a story, one would usually be required to first provide the settings, such as the time, background, and the main character of that story. However, to the agents and officers of the Titan Secret Service Department, all of these did not matter. Their lives were relatively simple – only to keep hiding and carry out their duties loyally.

The order from their superiors had stated that the time to inject sedatives into that assassin from the East had come. It was about four in the afternoon. The spring in Dulin City was extremely obvious. The pedestrians all tumbled as the strong wind that carried dust in the air blew. Right at this time, a few Secret Service agents dressed like gentlemen who were riding in four carriages arrived at the art gallery of the Bitchell. The owner, Hugh, welcomed them. This passionate, big guy prepared some superior-quality tea, coffee and some snacks for the officers.

The person-in-charge was a doctor. We were not clear if he had a physician license, but this person was extremely good at using psychiatric drugs. Moreover, the experiments before had already shown his compound drug could indeed control the people whose will was extremely unstable.

"Let's enter!" The doctor said as if he was asking the opinion of his companions, but surely, no one would have any. Then, the men took weapons such as the knight's sword, crossbow, knife and such from the hidden compartments of the frame. They were only waiting for Hugh to open the hidden door that led to the basement.

Hugh opened the door, but the atmosphere in it was slightly odd. Two oil lamps were extinguished. Only the flowing cold wind was whistling lightly at the door.

"Did you forget to replenish them last time?" Hugh asked the master of the art gallery.

Bitchell maybe drank a few glasses. He muttered under his breath, but no one understood what he had said.

Hugh became impatient. He first stepped into the space that was covered in complete darkness. However, the cautious doctor stopped him, "That prisoner is not as obedient as we imagined!"

The doctor turned to the agent beside him, "Go and get a lamp. I don't want to enter into the dark!"

The light of the lamp was extremely dim. It could only light up a distance of about two meters in front of them. The agents carefully entered the hidden door and spread out on the left and right. They held their weapons tightly, especially those guys who had seen him kill before, trembling anxiously.

"Alright! My friend!" Finally, the doctor released a relaxed moan. The light shone upon the dirty bed and that dangerous prisoner was lying on. He seemed to be asleep, but the doctor would rather him be awake.

"But... Where did this kid come from?" The doctor glared in disbelief at this little guy who suddenly appeared in the light. He turned to his companions immediately, "What is with you guys? Who sent this kid here?"

Bitchell shrugged. He walked forward and took the kid by his neck. Micath was hanging in the air. He did not struggle at all. Instead, he stared at the guy he hated the most with a sort of gaze that seemed to be looking at something dead.

"This kid is sent by the combat unit that directly belongs to the main department. In other words… this is under the order of the Head of Department!" The owner explained as he glanced at this expressionless kid in disdain. He even swung this kid in the air as if he was provoking this kid.

"I heard that... the Military Intelligence Bureau of Prince O'Neil Andrew Morisette was looking for a kid that was kidnapped!"

Everyone looked at this guy who suddenly spoke. The owner Bitchell glanced at him coldly, "Who are you? Why haven't I seen you before?"

The doctor waved his hands, "Rock, this is Bitchell! Bitchell, this is Rock! One of my teammates is not feeling well. Rock is here to substitute for him! So... Bitchell, being polite to my people will not put you in a disadvantageous position; And Rock, I must warn you. For one last time! The Secret Service Department is not the newspaper that encourages freedom of speech. Taking care of your words is taking responsibility for your life!"

"Yes, sir!" This agent named Rock retreated into the shadow. Perhaps his officer and colleagues would think that this matter had been finished, but Rock was beyond excited! Half a year ago, he had received the secret order in the Secret Service Department's inner circle to search for the assassin Thirteen. This morning, he received the investigation notice about Micath Andrew Sukhoi from his secret contact. Things would not be so coincidental, but it had certainly turned out this way!

"Well then... my old friend!" The doctor turned to the prisoner who was lying quietly on the bed. "Let's begin!"

Assassin Thirteen opened his eyes lightly; they were black, seemingly devoid of light and color. The doctor pulled at the iron chain that restricted the prisoner. It was tight as usual.

Hugh lighted up the oil lamps in the room. Light once again fared up in the dark underground space. The agents spread around the room while Bitchell was bullying the kid. It seemed that this guy still remembered what had happened in the morning. He tore the kid's clothes open, seemingly looking for something hidden on him, but there was nothing in it.

The owner of the gallery spat. He did not like this expressionless kid, but he was rather interested in the skin of this kid. He pushed Cath against the wall as his hairy palm touched the insides of the kid's pants.

"Hey... Enough!" Hugh interrupted his old friend's intention right in time and sent a disdainful glance over, "This is the time to be serious!"

The owner, who had a terrible character, took his hands out of the kid's pants. He even carefully smelled his dirty hands.

Micath did not know what was going on. He was simply instinctively furious and showed such an expression that he was about to eat someone alive. However, such expression, in the eyes of the adults… was the tearless expression that only poor people showed.

"Come here, my friend!" The doctor opened up his medical bag under the light. This bag was no different from a normal first-aid kit, only added with a few glass bottles without labels. As usual, the doctor carefully inspected the condition of the prisoner before injecting the drug, especially in the aspects of heart pulses and muscle reactions. After recording the data in the file, this normal-looking doctor took out a glass springe that was as thick as a thumb.

At the beginning of the eighth century of Church Calendar, drug sedation was still a rare sight to behold.

Some of the religious members even strongly rejected it as an ungodly thing. Moreover, this sort of drug was self-made and had not gone through an official clinical test, not to mention how troublesome it was to make a manual glass syringe! About the iron-made needle, to be honest, the people always thought of veterinary when they saw it, simply because this thing was just like a narrow dagger.

Thirteen the Assassin was still unmoving as usual. He looked at the doctor as he tied a rubber to his upper arm and poked the vein on his arm with satisfaction. At last, the doctor finally took half a syringe of drugs from the glass bottle and equipped the syringe with a huge needle.

"Alright, honey!" The doctor of Secret Service Department smiled evilly, but he saw the prisoner smiled at the same time as well.

Just when the needle was about to poke into the vein of the assassin's forearm! A clear metallic screeching could be heard in the dark underground space. The prisoner's arm left the iron chain that bounded him. He sprung up from the bed and stood up.

The doctor held the needle, standing still blankly. His brain still could not react to this unbelievable matter! However, the assassin had begun to move. Thirteen pulled the doctor's arm. One of his hands pressed at the palm that held the needle, then pushed it toward the back forcefully! The crisp breaking sound of bones and the doctor's shriek echoed in the basement. The assassin did not plan on letting him go just like that! He moved the doctor's broken arm suddenly and poked the thick needle into the doctor's vein at his neck. Red blood filled the springe like a destroyed dam. The doctor's shrieks turned into screams as he twitched in pain.

Right when the unlucky doctor slumped to the floor quickly, the agents had already rushed forward, waving their weapons crazily! The assassin made a backward flip and jumped onto the wall. He ran a little on the wall, then gave a flying kick as he jumped off the wall. A tall agent immediately flew off from the incredible impact and slammed into the oil lamp at the wall. When the lamp broken into parts, he was soaked in the oil and was instantaneously set on fire!

The opponent's blood was splashed onto Thirteen's face. The struggle, shriek, bad odor of burning human and the stinging bloody aura that followed made the King of Assassins so excited that he shouted loudly!

Without allowing the prisoner to fully express his emotions, the weapons had arrived. One at his left, one on his right; One aimed at his throat and one at his rib! The assassin avoided both the sword and short knife as he turned to the side. Thirteen held strongly at the arm that held the sword and jumped off the enemy's knee. He flipped in the air and sat on the opponent's shoulder. The person did not dare to move, but the assassin had already guided the trapped arm to extend the sword. In a blink of an eye, the person was stabbed to death. The assassin was still giving his all. He clamped the sword-user's head with his knees and twisted to the left in a sudden movement by changing his center of gravity!

The sound of broken bones could be heard again. The assassin released his knees and landed on the ground. The body whose neck was broken knelt down before being slammed onto the rocky ground.

The assassin took the knight's sword. Even though this thing was not handy, it was more than enough to deal with these pathetic people. The agents surrounded him in fear. The assassin was at the center of the encirclement, but these people did not dare to approach him first.

Thirteen slowly moved his feet. He scanned the frightened enemy. Right when these guys were glancing at the assassin's weapon, Thirteen suddenly swept his feet. Then, the knife on the ground flew up into the air and hit the last oil lamp accurately! The basement immediately fell into darkness. Only a burnt corpse was still decorated with small fire sparks on it.

Helpless screams and clashing of weapons came from the basement! Chaotic footsteps, flashing shadow of swords, the humming of blood spurting out of the body and the limbs and body that went all over the place! When everything returned to silence, there was only a heavy breathing that hinted an extreme fear left in the dark underground space.

The owner realized that he was the sole survivor in the room. His arm clasped around the small boy's neck tightly while his other hand rubbed the matches crazily on the wall.

The match finally was lighted. Bitchell immediately saw the terrifying assassin and... broken limbs that were... all over the place!

"Don't come near me! Don't! Or else I will kill him..."

Thirteen did not go near him. With the help of the light, the assassin found the lamp that was put off. Then, he walked to the body that was still burning. The lamp quickly lighted up.

Bitchell was watching cautiously. Every corner he saw was dressed in blood. On the wall, the ground and on the assassin! The boy seemed to be in pain from his grasp. The owner was extremely impatient with that weak struggle. He had no choice but to increase the force of his grasp.

It seemed... The King of Assassin did not care about the owner who had a hostage. He was interested in the doctor that was lying on the ground because this guy had not died yet! That needle seemed to only poke into his vein and the syringe was filled with blood. However, the human's blood had not flown out yet.

The doctor was shaking his head lightly. He could not let out any voice. He simply begged the assassin who squatted beside him with a helpless gaze.

Thirteen pulled the doctor's fingers that held the syringe with force. He watched in satisfaction as the person's gaze turned into despair. Then... just as what the doctor used to do to him, the assassin slowly pushed the injector. Blood and drug slowly flowed into the human's body. The doctor was in spasm and soon spat foam from his mouth.

The King of Assassin raised his head. This guy who called him honey had finally gone to his god, "What about you? Don't you plan to let him go?" Thirteen said as he turned to Bitchell who kept moving towards the door.

"Don't come here! Stand there and don't move... Don't move!"

The owner screamed frantically just like all the animals that loved to bluff until an icy knife was placed at his neck from the back. Bitchell turned his head slightly and saw the uninjured Rock smiling coldly at him.

"Let go, Bitchell! You won't be quicker than my dagger!" Rock said as he pulled at the person's hair with his other hand.

Thirteen smiled slightly. His instinct was very accurate. Just when everyone was rushing towards him, only this guy named Rock retreated to one side as if this did not concern him.

Bitchell blinked. He changed his strategy. He pushed this dirty boy away, then immediately changed into his begging mode.

"Please, Rock! Considering that we are colleagues... I am simply following orders! I am simply--"

"Enough, Bitchell! I will convey everything that you have done to that kid to Prince O'Neil Andrew Morisette! Have you heard about how Prince O'Neil deal with the guys that invaded Andrew?"

"Don't... Don't..."

Micath struggled out of the assassin's embrace. He was neither interested in whatever just happened, nor was he interested in the bodies on the ground. He took a mini hand cannon from under the bed and lead balls from his pocket. Lastly, he carefully tore the small packet of fire powder open.

"You should quickly leave this place..." Rock reminded the assassin loudly.

Thirteen shook his head. He glanced at Cath curiously. He wanted to know what Oscar's son would do next.

Micath filled the fire powder in familiar movement and stuffed the lead ball. He came in front of Bitchell and took the burning match from him.

"Don't... Don't... I... I apologize..." The owner stared at the boy in an outright fear.

Cath held the mini hand cannon up, but the weight made his arm tremble. The little guy realized this fact. He was frustrated, then turned to the observing Thirteen at last.

"Don't move..."

The assassin immediately came forward, "You want him not to move? That's easy!"

Along with a few screams, the owner's ligaments in his limbs were all cut. Bitchell was cowering on the floor like a maggot now. His pants were wet, giving off a terrible odor.

Cath let out an 'Ola' in satisfaction the same way his father did when he was ecstatic. The little guy raised his mini hand cannon. The weight of the cannon and trembling hands made it hard to aim properly at his target. Cath thought to himself, perhaps stuffing the hand cannon into his mouth is a good choice. Cath immediately saw to it done, but the poor maggot on the ground was not cooperating. The frustrating little kid turned his helpless gaze to the King of Assassin once again.

Thirteen scratched his thick hair. Now, he was fully convinced that this kid, who had not learn properly how to talk, was definitely Oscar's son.

The King of Assassin stepped on the owner's private part forcefully. Bitchell finally screamed. Micath reached out his hands and the cannon disappeared into the hateful guy's yellow teeth.

"Hmm... Hmm... Hmm..." Bitchell shook his head violently, but every time he tried to spit the cannon out, that horrifying assassin would increase the force of his leg. This made the owner scream in pain loudly and the cannon then fell deeper into his throat.

Cath finally lighted the cannon. Sparks of fire appeared and the cannon was sizzling. Just like how his mother had taught him, Cath used his other hand to stabilize his arm. His face was expressionless as if he was gazing at the target at close distance.

Along with a heavy screeching! Blood and brain fluid splashed onto the ground. Micath retrieved his mini hand cannon as he said 'Ola'. The cannon pulled a long bloody spit from the person's mouth. The little kid wiped it on the dead body until his father's gift gave out a metallic shine again.

"Thirteen," After a while, Rock tore his gaze away from the boy. He was truly frightened. It appeared that the rumor was true... Andrew's people were definitely different.

"It's me!" The assassin nodded.

"Oh... This is great!" Rock reached out his hands to the legendary assassin from the East, "You know my name. My identity is a little complicated, but you must understand I work for the Military Intelligence Bureau which Prince O'Neil Andrew Morisette leads, not the Secret Service Department that imprisoned you!"

The assassin rolled his eyes. He had no idea what the noun Rock mentioned meant, but only recognized the Secret Service Department.

"Friend?" Thirteen glanced at the palm that was reached out towards him.

"You can take it that way!" Rock tried to smile naturally, but he could not.

"Alright! Friend!" Thirteen finally shook hands with him.

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After shaking hands, Devil Sandy brought Paul into the hidden observation deck that was built just recently. Colonel Sandinand pointed to the quiet farm not far away from then. He spread his hands towards Paul, rather troubled.

"The news we received this afternoon state that a family nearby just bought a whole cart of living chicken yesterday."

"It's here?" Paul said as he placed his eyes on the single-hole telescope.

"Yeah! No farmer will set up armed posts at his door or place sniper on the banyan tree in his garden."

"I saw it!" Paul carefully adjusted the image direction of the telescope. His observation deck was located at a small hill four to five hundred meters away from the farm's gate.

There was an abandoned stable here. The Special Combat Brigade even covered the stable with a camouflage net made of leaves when they entered this place.

"Are you sure they saw us?" Snowstorm finally left the telescope.

Sandinand nodded, "The soldiers were roaming at this area. Sometimes, they will go to the farm and ask. I believe the people inside will not feel anything odd."

Paul nodded and pressed Sandy's shoulder, "Do you plan on letting me go in?"

Devil Sandy shook his head, "I am not sure! But our opponent has lost twenty-seven people during the action early morning on the 10th day of the 1st month. That means... There are at least thirty to forty fully armed elite combatants hiding in the farm! If Young Master Micath is truly in there... I still recommend His Highness to observe a little longer!"

Paul nodded to show his agreement. It was not suitable to make a rash decision during this time. However, Snowstorm did not know what was wrong with him today. Something in him felt extremely uncomfortable. He kept losing his focus when he did things. If he rushed inside with this condition...he could not imagine how O'Neil Andrew Morisette would react while holding his son's body.

The dusk light seemed to lit the humble stable in flames. Layers of clouds fell from the sky and hid behind the mountain far away. At the edge of the horizon, a large piece of flaming clouds decorated the dusk light. The light splashed onto the field in all directions. The pedestrians and the farmers returning late walked on the light-colored rocky roads. Smoke seemed to rise from the bricked hut hidden in the field at the same time. After passing by a village, the flame-like dusk painted flowing light on Rayshure's fur. It throttled up the mountain from the side that had the sun to its back. O'Neil Andrew Morisette tied the huge horse at the stable. His sight had been set at the farm in front him.

The farm was still as peaceful as usual. There were cows and horses at the field and a large group of ducks surrounded the pond.

There were a few houses made of yellow bricks in the farm. Just like any other farm, they lighted up the fire in the evening. Sometimes, a few women's shouts could be heard from the houses.

Colonel Sandinand held the horse for his master. Oscar smiled at him, but the Devil could see that the Prince was exhausted. His never-yielding brows were furrowed, showing his anxiety like never before.

"Quiet?"

"Yes!" Sandinand nodded to his master, "Very quiet!"

Oscar walked into the stable. He nodded to Paul, then waved to the Black Devil who was staying at a corner, "Still can't be sure of the condition inside?"

Shaw Curlink pointed to the west of the farm in frustration, "I checked it out in the afternoon. It is all plains near the farm. There's not even a tree in sight. Other than digging our way in, there is no chance of infiltrating without danger."

"The buildings here are unlikely to accommodate forty to fifty people." Oscar turned to Colonel Sandinand.

The Devil nodded, "I suspect that this bunch is hiding in the underground facility like wine cellar or basement. The nearby farms all have a similar structure."

Oscar sighed, "This is getting troublesome!"

Paul shrugged, "Who said it isn't?"

"How are our people preparing?" Oscar suddenly turned to the Head of Military Intelligence Bureau, who had been quiet all this while.

Messier just nodded off, but this was understandable. He had not rested for two days and one night.

"Oh! We have a completed encirclement!" The Baron pointed to the war map that was laid on top of a broken chair, "The members are all the most elite warriors in Special Combat Brigade. They are divided into ten platoons. Each platoon has twelve people, all waiting for orders out of sight at different directions. However, they are very far from the farm. The closest ones are at a place around six hundred meters away from it."

"You mean from the fence or the main house?"

"Fence!" The Head of Military Intelligence Bureau kept himself awake. He pointed at the red area that glowed in red at the edge of the farm. "Those fences are made of red pine wood. At this time, it is crisp and hard. Every few steps, there is bell attached to it. Did you notice the few obvious bumps by the grass?"

Oscar found the place through the telescope image. "What about that?"

"Paul suspect that it is a continuous trap."

Oscar glanced at Paul with a little uncertainty, "Can such a thing that can be seen from this distance still be called a continuous trap? That should be a hidden underground space! Come and take a look. There is one in every main direction, especially the side at the back of the road."

Paul quickly came forward. He stared into the telescope. The result was as what his old friend had said. That unrealistic bump should be the observation deck of the criminals' underground structure.

"What is wrong with you? You even mistook this?" Oscar glared at Paul in a dissatisfied manner.

The King of Assassin only scratched his head and apologized in a low voice.

"Have you checked the master of the farm?" The Prince turned to Messier once again.

The Head of Military Intelligence Bureau quickly nodded. He took a file out, "The master of the farm is called Odelon. He is not local and only bought this land a few years back. In the afternoon, I sent the local soldiers to survey the place. Originally, I planned to find a reason and get him to town, but I am afraid I may be making a rash decision. So--"

"Alright! It's this place!" Oscar interrupted Messier. He scanned the people in the stable, "Think of a way! We can't be staying here and doing nothing. Secret Service Department had already received the news that we are about to move. I am afraid things will turn towards the bad side."

"What's the matter with Secret Service Department? You are afraid they may ruin our plan?" Messier looked at the Prince in question.

Oscar hesitated, but at last, he simply shook his head, "I am not sure, but I will feel that the Faran should not be so smart. There must be something going on!"

"Yes, yes!" The Head of Military Intelligence Bureau nodded after hearing this, "First accurately launch an attack, then taking hostages and sending negotiation condition. It's odd if it isn't a conspiracy! They prepared everything, only that they shouldn't have killed the chicken. Now that it seems... they are getting what they paid for!"

Oscar squeezed a smile forcefully. Even though he was full of worry, his rationality kept reminding him that the farm before him might not be the real target after all.

"How about using fire?" Devil Sandy suddenly said, "Only one of us needs to get inside and set the barn on fire... It's the one at the far end of the main house by the farm! Once we set it on fire, the people in the house will come out and deal with it. I believe a lot of them will move out at that time because they can't afford to let the Guards nearby see the fire. This will get them into deep trouble."

Oscar turned to the quiet Paul, "What do you think? I think it's pretty reasonable."

Paul simply nodded. It seemed that he did not have any other suggestions.

"I think... it should work, theoretically!" The Head of Military said as he carefully noted the Prince's expression. "But we have to wait until it is completely dark to begin our action!"

Oscar thought about it for a while, then he finally nodded.

"Sandy!" The Marshal of Guards called the colonel of the infantry, "Inform our people about the current situation. Let the Brigadier General Luke Citel prepare two platoons and have them hide at the back of this mountain when the night arrives. Also, tell General Murat to send Kamille Rayen's knights up here. Let them... See that forest?" Oscar said as he pointed to the hill on the left side of the farm. "That forest. A combat division... Oh, no! Just a group! Let then enter combat position when the fire begins."

"Yes, Sit! Any other order?" Sandinand said as he saluted to the Marshal.

Oscar gave it a thought, "Let the ten commando platoons Messier arranged to stay on guard. Tell them to hide properly. Then... That's all!"

"Yes, Sir!" Sandinand saluted once again, then went out of the stable. After a while, the sound of horses leaving the mountain could be heard.

Oscar set his gaze at the sky that seemed to be adorned with roses. The sun was like fire, but his feeling was as defeated as the charcoal that was nearing its end. The sensitive man had always relied on his intuition, but this time he had rather wished that his prediction was not correct! But... what if he was correct?

Oscar shook his head. He turned to the head of the Military Intelligence Bureau in frustration, "Messier! Be honest with me. Are you suspecting someone in the Empire wants to deal with us? If not, this matter will not be so sudden and so impactful!"

Messier opened his mouth, but he forcefully swallowed the words he was about to say. He did not believe O'Neil Andrew Morisette was not clear about this. The Prince was no longer the juvenile criminal that spoke of killing people all the time. If there was anyone who planned to go against him in Titan Empire this day, then that person could only be... The Head of Military Intelligence Bureau turned his head away. Some things, especially this, could take your life if said! If O'Neil Andrew Morisette still could not understand or come to terms with his feelings, then no one could be blamed...

"Ola!" Oscar sighed suddenly as if he was giving up. He did not seem to wish to hear the answer from him.

"Forget it. I didn't say anything!"

Facing the Prince who suddenly fell into silence, the Head of Military Intelligence Bureau could only smile bitterly because this was not something that could be forgotten or talked about as he wished.

The light seemed to have rolled over and sunk under the western horizon. There was only a band of fiery light giving out mesmerizing colors at the western outskirts area of Dulin city. Other places had fallen into darkness like an eternal night. The light of the street lamps, stores and houses were not able to tear the thick-colored drapes apart. It was only able to provide a weak light to the places people could reach.

The light in the art gallery was just like any other store. The assassin and Military Intelligence Bureau agent sealed the underground basement. They kept the weapons at one place and gave some fruits and snacks to the hungry Micath. When the King of Assassin was keeping the weapons on his body, Rock, who was standing guard at the door, finally got a carriage.

Thirteen rushed outside with the kid. Even though he had washed his face and changed his clothes, but his savage face still surprised the earnest carriage driver.

"The Kenshin Palace! Hurry!" Rock told the address loudly. He knew the action department of Secret Service Department would arrive anytime now.

Thirteen breathed in the air of freedom. He held Cath in his embrace and pressed the boy's forehead lightly like a father.

After the carriage began to move, Rock finally let off a sigh of relief. He smiled at the assassin sitting in front of him, "We will be completely safe after we arrive at the Kenshin Palace! There is a two-hundred-men knights group of the Prince there. No one would dare to--"

The knights that came from in front of them successfully made Rock shut his mouth tightly. He looked at the agents with black capes who passed by the carriage they were sitting in.

At the street before the art gallery, the agents jumped off the horse in swift movements. The weapons they showed frightened the pedestrians at the two sides of the road.

"Did you see anyone leaving this place?" An officer, who was in the lead, rushed out of the gallery in frustration. He was helping a muscular-looking man who was covered in blood and shouted to the surrounding crowd.

A person stood out. He recognized the clothing of Secret Service Department agents. Maybe his report would be able to get him some reward.

"I saw two strange men and a kid from the gallery. They just rode the carriage just now!"

"You should've freaking told me earlier!" The rude action officer cursed loudly. When he went on his horse, he even kicked the person.

When the whole team of knights went off, the heavily-injured Hugh finally slumped onto the ground.

His mouth quirked. He glanced at the people around him with mockery. To be honest, he had already made the mental preparation to sacrifice himself when he began to serve the Secret Service Department. However, was such a sacrifice worth it? His colleagues did not care about his life and his higher officer would not even care about the Fifteenth Secret Detention House! At this time, he did not know if he should thank the terrifying assassin. If it was not because the prisoner went easy on him, he believed he would be in hell now. For what did he stay alive? The Secret Service Department's punishment towards the people who failed their duty was simple. Hugh might die once more.

"You should have killed him off properly!" Rock pointed to the back, "That surviving guy will tell on me!"

Thirteen shook his head, "I only thought that the guy is not so bad that he deserved to die. Also, I don't understand the relationship between the Secret Service Department and whatever bureau you are in. Did you get you in trouble?"

Rock shrugged, "I also don't really get the relationship between us two. But the trouble is already here!"

There was an intense sound of horses coming from behind them. Thirteen smiled lightly. He pinched Cath's cheek and shook hands with Rock again.

"Let me get those guys away!" The King of Assassin smiled confidently, "And turn your country's capital over just for fun!"

Rock could only reply with a bitter smile. He had a hunch that the Eastern guy in front of him had the ability to do so.

The carriage turned at a corner and the King of Assassin jumped off it. Micath was as adorable as his father when he was young. This ignorant little guy, who could not speak properly, waved goodbye at the black-haired old man from within the carriage. When the carriage went further away, the pair of small hands could still be seen waving.

Yes. Thirteen was old! His beard was white and there were scale-liked wrinkles at the edge of his eyes. He had spent more than twenty years in the underground prison. He was tired and also felt contented! Now was the time that he did something for the sake of his life and the pride of the Eastern warrior.

Facing the pedestrians' odd glance, this old man, who dressed in a weird fashion, walked to the center of the road. He took off his cape and showed his skinny yet firm muscles underneath the cape and a few gleaming weapons.

The sound of horses approached him. The people of Secret Service Department finally appeared at the end of the street. The King of Assassin of the Westland pulled out a knight's sword that was not easy to use. He pointed the sharp edge of the sword towards the ground and faced the knights who rushed toward him and the light of numerous gleaming weapons with a relaxed smile. It was as if he was in an absolute bliss.

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Paul hid in a bunch of dry leaves right at the edge of the sight of the two observation posts in front of him. The houses were well-lighted. Once the nighttime came, the main house had let their tall Deiss wolfdogs out. These animals showed their green eyes in the dark and looked like a pack of wolves from afar.

The Black Devil kept signaling Snowstorm. He thought it was time, but Paul seemed to be... in a daze?

"What is wrong with you?"

Shaw Curlink almost shouted. He stared at the King of Assassin who was as famous as B and the best among the assassins unbelievably.

"Shh..." Paul glared at him impatiently. He was indeed in a daze, but it was because he felt a special sort of strength boiling in his body! His muscle was contracting crazily and his pulse beating furiously. This feeling was just like the first time he started this job.

"We have to do something big!"

"Rubbish!" The Black Devil turned his head away. He saw the burning will in his old friend's eyes. This showed that Paul was still Snowstorm. There seemed to be nothing to worry about!

The King of Assassin first ran out!

That was right! Paul jumped from the grass, then ran to the tall wall of grass between the two posts. The Black Devil stared in horror. He did not know what the King of Assassin was attempting!

When he went close to the fence, the combat member hiding in the underground structure finally started the alarm. Paul stepped into the woods and jumped into the air. His left hand was holding the crossbow and his right hand the match. The match lighted up just from a small friction with his boots. This light provided a clear outline of the enemy archer's positions. A few narrow arrows were immediately shot out.

The King of Assassin fell on the ground. The match he held high on top of his head caused the enemy's arrow to fly past his head without deviation. Paul rolled a few times when he fell to the ground. When he stopped his movement and squatted on the ground, the match had already lighted up the arrow on his crossbow.

Numerous armed members came out of the farmhouses respectively. They heard the alarming whistle, but they only saw the fire on the roof of the barn when they walked out from the door.

Did someone infiltrate this place? Is the barn on fire? These were the thoughts of the confused people who had no idea what was going on. Some went to the well, some went to the underground posts that started the alarm. The people in the underground structure were also disappointed. They had not mistaken it. That man indeed jumped over the fence and set the barn on fire. However, when they were setting new arrows on their bows, they realized that no one could be found on the grass in front of them.

The barn kept burning. The spring wind from the southeast helped in spreading the flames. The dry grass immediately became a huge fire torch. This torch shone upon the busy people and the gleaming weapons. At this moment, a band of fire dots suddenly flared up on the plains beside the grass field. The people in the underground posts widened their eyes in horror. Following that, there were fire arrows coming toward them from all directions. The dense arrows were as if the wide starry sky suddenly spat fire out of it.

The arrows set all barns and the running people on fire. The wolfdogs were barking frantically at the people struggling in the flames while those uninjured were scattering away in all directions. Rounds upon rounds of arrows befell upon them! When the whole farm was lighted up in flames, numerous warriors with light armor suddenly came out of the grass field at the near left. They screamed as they approached the enemy and rushed into all main buildings of the farm.

O'Neil Andrew Morisette shot the signal arrow himself. The Second Commando Group of Red Tiger Battle Division blew a clear sound to attack. The forest seemed to be burning intensely. The knights held their fire torches and weapons as they throttled up the mountain and poured down towards the place.

Prince O'Neil followed the knights into the farm, but he was slightly behind. Just now, Rayshure the huge beast had destroyed one of the underground posts. Even though dealing with two Faran people was piece of cake, but bringing his beast away from the underground post had taken up much effort.

The battle in the farm had almost no questions of doubts. Every armed member had to face the encirclement of three to four Titan warriors. The arrival of the Narcissus Knights seemed to have an effect of scaring them a little more.

Oscar rode Rayshure and went into the corridor of the main house. His huge horses kicked a guy into the ball of flames outside without thinking. The Marshal of Guards held his machete and shouted to the soldier near his left.

"Search every corner! Don't let anyone go!"

Devil Sandy was right behind of the Prince. Maybe O'Neil Andrew Morisette did not care, but he was extremely nervous. The colonel of infantry kept shouting to the soldiers who came inside of the house, "Don't destroy the building! Not the building!"

"Never mind!" Paul's voice could suddenly be heard. Oscar and Sandy looked over at the same time.

"Cath is not here! I've searched already!"

"Are you sure?" Oscar glared at his old friend seriously.

"I can confirm!" The messenger saluted to the Head of Intelligence Analysis Division who was glancing at the battlefield from afar.

Messier muttered to himself as he looked at this urgent message in his hands, "It's the Secret Service Department! It's actually the Secret Service Department..."

After thinking about it for a long while, the Baron kept this message. Since Young master Micath was already under a strict protection now, the matter here could be finished quickly. However, the main issue was... how should he explain this matter to the Prince? Especially when... The Dulin City was turned over by a destructive old monster right now!

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