Chapter 157: Confrontation

Lorenzo’s steps suddenly halted.

That whistle—he knew it all too well. Which was exactly why his expression now looked as though he’d stepped in something filthy on the road.

Only that group, the ones known as the Hyenas, used such an unpleasant, piercing whistle to communicate.

Which meant...

From the dark alley, steady footsteps echoed forth.

As if heading to some elegant banquet, a man clad in a well-tailored formal suit slowly emerged from the shadows.

"Mr. Lorenzo, the night is long—why rush? Why not sit down and have a chat?"

The man wore a top hat and held a gold-inlaid cane, dressed immaculately. His voice carried a graceful tone, sounding for all the world like a noble aristocrat.

But the moment he spoke, the occasional flash of his gold teeth shattered all that elegance. Bathed in moonlight, his aged face revealed the greed and madness of a hyena.

Behind him, burly men stepped silently out of the darkness, weapons in hand—bloodstained blades, spears, clubs. Their gazes were unruly and savage, mocking smiles curling on their lips as they stared at Lorenzo like he was some circus clown.

These were thugs.

And in the entire lower city, there was only one group of thugs who dared bare their fangs at Lorenzo.

"The Hyena Gang? Shurz?"

Staring at the same gang that had burned who knows how many shops and buried countless corpses by the riverbank just to extort protection fees, veins bulged on Lorenzo’s forehead.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Ho? That’s a strange question, Mr. Lorenzo. Is there a street in the lower city with someone’s name on it, saying it’s private property?"

Shurz gripped his cane, his exaggerated expression contorting into a wide smile.

"Long nights bring sleepless minds—sometimes a man just needs a walk, a little exercise."

"A walk? How convenient."

A cold gleam flashed in Lorenzo’s eyes. As one of the major factions in the lower city, these bastards were a far bigger headache than the mutts still tailing him from earlier.

But now that things had come to this, he instead calmed down.

"What is it you people want? Our Red Flame Gang and your Hyena Gang have always stayed out of each other’s way."

"Of course. I’ve always considered Hyenas and Red Flames to be great friends. But since we’re friends..."

Shurz’s gaze locked greedily on the metal container covered in runes in Lorenzo’s hand.

"When one has good things, shouldn’t one learn to share?"

So it really was about the Ancient Dragon’s Lifeblood?

But how did he know?

Lorenzo’s eyes darkened even more, subtly hiding the container behind his back.

The Ancient Dragon’s Lifeblood contained intensely violent energy. To store it properly, one needed a high-grade spatial artifact.

But spatial artifacts of that caliber were more valuable than ten droplets of the Lifeblood itself. Only high-ranking nobles could afford to use them.

Which meant he had no choice but to carry it in his hand.

And carrying it meant facing that naked greed.

"Shurz, you’d better think carefully. Our Red Flame Gang isn’t some soft fruit you can just squeeze dry!"

The moment he spoke, Lorenzo’s men behind him drew their weapons with a sharp, ringing clang. Cold steel gleamed under the moonlight. Though they were fewer in number, every one of them was an elite Lorenzo had personally selected. Naturally, they weren’t about to cower before these thugs who had nothing going for them except savagery and a death wish.

"Or are you looking to go all-out against me?"

Lorenzo glared fiercely at the man in front of him, like a bloodthirsty beast baring its fangs.

He knew that, unlike the brutish thugs he led, Shurz was a petty and insidious coward from head to toe.

People like that were greedy, yes—but they cherished their lives even more.

Which meant he’d never make a move unless he was sure of victory.

"Seems Mr. Lorenzo has misunderstood me."

Sure enough, faced with Lorenzo’s grim resolve, the greedy gleam in Shurz’s eyes quickly faded. He smiled again.

"Violence has never been my thing. I’m the kind of guy who prefers to do business."

"Business?"

"Five drops. I’ll buy five drops of Ancient Dragon’s Lifeblood from Mr. Lorenzo."

Shurz held up a hand, narrowing his eyes.

"At market price. Five million per drop. Twenty-five million total. What do you say?"

Behind him, a few burly men emerged carrying multiple burlap sacks. As soon as the sacks were pulled open, stacks of dark green high-denomination bills spilled into view.

Shurz had come prepared. Or rather—he had never intended to go all-in with Lorenzo in the first place. He was offering a price that Lorenzo could—just barely—accept.

He wanted to force Lorenzo into this deal. He needed the Lifeblood. Spending a bit of cash meant little to him.

"Twenty-five million?"

But instead of pausing to consider, as Shurz expected, Lorenzo’s expression grew uglier. He gnashed his teeth.

"You're trying to buy five drops from me for a measly twenty-five million? Are you kidding me? You think I’m some dumb kid?"

"Huh? Isn’t that the normal market price?"

Sure, Ancient Dragon’s Lifeblood was a rare item that didn’t circulate publicly, so there’d naturally be a markup—but it shouldn’t be so outrageous that Lorenzo couldn’t accept it, right?

Just as Shurz furrowed his brows, one of his men leaned in and whispered something into his ear.

His expression immediately turned strange.

He covered his mouth with a fist like he was trying to hold back laughter.

"Ahem... Mr. Lorenzo, the fact you got swindled for fifty million isn’t really my fault, now is it?"

"Cut the crap. If you really want to buy it, bring me fifty million. Then maybe I’ll consider it!"

Lorenzo’s face was red with rage, but his eyes were still fierce.

Five drops would be enough to barely fulfill the Upper Lord’s task, so he could part with them.

But not for that price.

He refused to be remembered as the biggest sucker in the entire lower city—the one they all whispered about behind their hands, “Ah, that Lorenzo... what a world-class chump.”

If anyone was going to be a sucker, it wasn’t going to be him alone!

"No deal. I can’t accept that price either."

Shurz’s smile began to freeze. His eyes turned cold as he stared at Lorenzo.

"I only brought twenty-five million."

"Then we’ve got nothing to talk ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) about."

The two sides stood off.

The narrow alley seemed to freeze over as a chill spread.

Weapons clenched tight, the sneering thugs and the Red Flame elites tensed—ready to ignite a blood-soaked brawl at any second.

"Gaa-gaa, in that case, ten drops might not be enough to go around."

But just then, a third voice suddenly rang out—shattering the icy tension.

And yet, no one felt any warmer. In fact, the chill cut even deeper to the bone.

Because in that sharp, duck-like rasp, they could hear it—the sound of bowstrings tightening, like steel cables being torn apart by monsters. It made their scalps tingle.

Everyone’s body reflexively tensed.

Lorenzo and Shurz both turned pale as they snapped their heads toward the source of the voice.

On the rooftops flanking the alley, a small, dwarf-like figure slowly emerged from the darkness.