Chapter 538: Running Dog

The Rat King’s expression suddenly sank as he looked at the man who slowly walked out from the flames.

That man had a cigar clenched between his teeth, his expression calm. He casually walked out from the shadows where he had been hiding before, appearing to be full of openings from head to toe, with no sense of threat whatsoever.

But when the firelight illuminated that hideously scarred face of his, the very existence of this man called Old Ghost was like a dark cloud about to cover the entire Lower District, pressing down so hard that Sam felt it was difficult to breathe.

"Old Ghost..."

Meeting him again, he was actually still frightened by the pressure this man carried ten years ago. The Rat King could not help feeling a trace of shame and irritation, but he quickly suppressed that emotion. Wiping the blood of his subordinate from his face, he said with a ferocious expression:

"So you really did come. I thought you’d keep hiding and playing the turtle with your head tucked in?"

"A turtle hiding its head?"

Old Ghost flicked the cigar away and sneered.

"Sam, are you talking about some new trendy joke that’s been spreading in the Lower District?"

"You really think that during this time I was hiding at home raising kids because I was afraid of your Rat King style—charging everywhere?" Old Ghost laughed coldly. "Don’t be ridiculous, Sam. Ten years ago I didn’t take you seriously, and now... it’s still the same."

Old Ghost clapped his hands.

The explosions on the street stopped, and the entire district seemed to fall silent for an instant.

Then, the noise suddenly erupted.

One shadow after another surged out from the end of the street, from quiet courtyards, from bars with closed doors.

They were a group of real vicious criminals, eyes bloodshot, expressions bloodthirsty, every single one of them having at least several human lives on their hands. The brutality and fanaticism that seeped out from their very bones, under the effects of alcohol and drugs, had reached an absolute peak.

And in the hands of these desperados who did not even know what fear was, were equally lethal and dangerous military weapons.

"The Brotherhood? Tsilok! Doran!"

The Rat King glared angrily at the few people leading the ferocious mob:

"And Frangi of the Three-Headed Dogs! You two-faced bastards, so you really chose betrayal in the end?"

"Betrayal? No, no, no. Choosing the strong and submitting to the strong—hasn’t that always been the rule of the Lower District?"

The tall and thin Tsilok stroked the sharp blade in his hand as if caressing a lover’s skin:

"Just like how we previously chose to submit to that Mister Bruce, now we’ve chosen the stronger Lord Old Ghost. Is there any problem with that?"

"Maybe there isn’t."

The Rat King sneered.

"But when your whore mother who was ridden by ten thousand men died in a roadside gutter, did she ever think that it was because of your betrayal that things ended that way?"

"Don’t insult my mother! She already died ten years ago!" Tsilok roared.

"I thought so. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have turned into such disgusting things."

The Rat King shrugged, a trace of coldness flashing °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° through his eyes. "But... do you really think that just because you changed to a new master, you’ve gained the qualification to bark at me? Just relying on that pile of equipment that you can’t even assemble into a complete set?"

Tsilok and Doran awkwardly twitched their faces. Although their equipment had undergone a major upgrade, compared to the fully armed Rat King, there was indeed still a gap. For example, with the same set of magitech armor, the two of them actually had to wear it together—one wearing the upper half, the other wearing the lower half—making them look rather ridiculous, and the defensive effect was greatly reduced... of course, the boost magitech armor provided to physical ability was still there.

But there was no other choice. After all, there were several gangs involved. If they were really all to be fully armed like the number of men under the Rat King, it would be no different from directly raising an army inside Belrand. Even the people backing them did not have that kind of capability.

"Rat King, do you even have the qualification to say things like that to us?"

Frangi, who had been silent at the side, finally could not endure the Rat King’s group taunting and spoke with mockery:

"Aren’t you yourself just a dog under that Mister Bruce right now? Ha. Rat King, Rat King Sam—look at what you’ve become. You’re a really good dog. How did I never know you were this loyal before?"

"You’re right."

The Rat King admitted it directly.

"I admit that I’m a dog now, a dog—the most loyal dog under Mister Bruce. But what about you? What are you?"

The Rat King’s gaze swept across those faces that had once stood on equal footing with him. A strange sense of amusement suddenly arose in his heart, and his expression became exaggerated without him realizing it:

"You wouldn’t still think that your current master, this Old Ghost, can really, just like ten years ago, rule the entire Lower District purely by his own ability... right? Don’t joke around! The only reason he was able to come back this time is because he received help from people behind the scenes! He’s no longer the Old Ghost from ten years ago who could act without restraint! He’s now just a tool in someone else’s hands! A tool for taking back the Lower District! He’s also a dog!"

Looking at those increasingly ugly expressions, the Rat King felt even more exhilarated:

"Do you understand now? I’m being someone’s dog, but you’re being dogs for a dog! So what right do you have to talk to me like that, huh? Is it because—"

"Shut up, Sam!"

Old Ghost suddenly interrupted the Rat King. The scar on his face writhed like a centipede as his muscles trembled. He no longer had the calmness from before, his expression terrifying, as if he were about to devour someone alive.

"Shut your mouth, unless you don’t want me to crush every bone in your body one by one later."

"Ah..."

Sam suddenly froze, as if frightened by Old Ghost’s shout.

He stood there straight, his entire body looking as though it was frozen in place, only faintly visible that he was forcefully suppressing a tremor.

The others all looked at him strangely, not expecting that the Rat King who had been so arrogant just moments ago would become so cowardly from a single sentence by Old Ghost.

Tsilok and the others revealed mocking expressions, just about to speak and ridicule him.

But at that moment...

"Ha... hahahahahaha..."

The Rat King suddenly burst into mad laughter.

He clutched his stomach, his smile exaggerated, his body trembling even more violently, and his laughter even overwhelmed the explosions that were resounding through the street once again.

"Hahahahaha... so it’s true... so it turns out this is true... you admitted it, Old Ghost, you actually admitted it! I was only guessing before... hahahaha... the Old Ghost from ten years ago, who was so arrogant that he didn’t even spare a glance for the big figures of the Upper District, actually... actually..."

Staring at Old Ghost’s increasingly ferocious face, the Rat King spoke each word slowly and clearly:

"Actually really became someone else’s dog."

The deliberately raised voice echoed through the night sky of the Lower District, lingering for a long time like a bird circling in the air.

After the laughter, there was once again silence.

But within that silence, the low pressure that gathered was colder and more terrifying than any before.

Grrrk—

The sharp sound of twisting metal broke the bone-chilling stillness. The military repeating crossbow in Old Ghost’s hand had been unconsciously crushed by him into a twisted ball of scrap metal.

He threw that lump of scrap into the burning flames, letting it gradually turn red from the high temperature, and then stared at Sam, who still had a provocative smile on his face, with murderous intent filling his eyes, and spoke slowly in a deep voice:

"Kill him. Kill him for me. Whoever takes Sam’s head, I will additionally give up the profits of three districts."

The moment the words fell, countless pairs of blood-red eyes stared straight at the Rat King with greed.

But the Rat King was fearless.

Now that he no longer feared even Old Ghost, would he be afraid of these pieces of trash whose brains had been burned out by alcohol and drugs?

"Heh. So in your eyes, I’m also not completely worthless—at least I’m worth three districts, right?"

The Rat King raised his repeating crossbow, smiled calmly at Old Ghost, and gave the order:

"Little ones, the weather is nice tonight. It’s very suitable for holding some grand event. Then let us completely leave this bunch of little bastards who are not even as good as dogs right here."