Two Days Left

They were top-tier combatants—and on their side, at least two, quite likely three. In this moment, Old Hugh was finally certain he had bet right... This was a massive ship. A combat lineup like this was more than enough to anchor a major faction in the City of Iniquity, and certainly not among the bottom feeders. It was just that boarding this ship had by no means been easy. It hadn't moored at the riverbank to invite you aboard; it had dropped anchor in the middle of the river, forcing you to cross. You had to dive into the water yourself and swim for your life, and any hesitation would cost you the chance. At the same time, the gang bosses present shared feelings similar to Old Hugh's. Most of them might not have realized it at first when they were driven to rebel, but as things unfolded, each of them had formed their own guesses and expectations. After all, with their wealth of streetwise experience, it would have been foolish indeed if they had truly deduced nothing by the night before last. The difference lay merely in how much or how little each had guessed. Old Hugh believed he was the one who had grasped the most, whose guesses were the most optimistic... but in truth, he wasn't. At that moment, covered in blood, Black Tooth thought of the brothers who had followed him here to make this gamble, and a silly grin spread across his face. Black Tooth had no grand story. If there had to be one, it was simply taking over this wild band from his father's hands. He only hoped that the few comrades of his father still fighting today, as well as the children of even more of his father's old crew, might one day live a better life in this city. "Kill!" The battle cries in the courtyard rang out anew. Below the top tier, the fight that belonged to them was still ongoing... Dao Dali had brought them aboard this ship, and he wouldn't let anyone sit back comfortably to reap the rewards afterward. They all understood that now. Meanwhile, atop the pitch-black bell tower, at an arched opening facing the direction of the courtyard, Wu Xu stood with one hand resting against the edge of the wall, looking outward. In truth, he hadn't thought much about it earlier; when Qingzi decided to make a move, Wu Xu had naturally stood up, drawn his blade, and walked out. In the past, this kind of thing had always fallen to him... Yet in the end, Zhu Jiaming had gone, and Rusty Sister had gone... There were enough hands, so there was nothing for him to do. What should I do now? Wu Xu wondered inwardly. Turn back inside? Should he sheathe his blade? Should he put his apparatus to sleep? Feeling a bit bitter and awkward inside, Wu Xu cast a backward glance. The remaining three inside were all looking right at him. "Can't help it, Xu'er. You're too weak right now," Han Qingyu said. "You can't beat Rusty Sister, right? And what if you can't beat the Young Prince either..." "What if he can't beat me?" He Tangtang chimed in. "Get lost. Weak as our Xu'er might be right now, thrashing you is still child's play," Wen Jifei quipped. "Or Xu'er, how about you go help the Young Prince and make it a two-on-one?" I'm not doing any two-on-one... Wu Xu looked at them, then turned his head back outward. Three months. It had been nearly three months since they came to the City of Iniquity. Qingzi had still not shed his skin, and the regeneration at Wu Xu's chest had yet to reach full recovery. His situation was like a main water valve that was partially blocked; the source energy surge had weakened and couldn't force it open. Wu Xu had been consuming ten or more source energy blocks almost every day since he was kidnapped last time, and Han Qingyu was popping a metal block every other day. Even so, both of them remained stuck. Regarding this, even Zhe Qiuhong was completely unable to explain it now, resorting to talking nonsense. When they asked her a few days ago, she suggested that maybe snakes and lizards from Huaxia weren't acclimated to the soil and water of the Americas. In short, Wu Xu certainly couldn't beat Rusty Sister or Qingzi right now. Among the four top-tiers, Rusty Sister was undoubtedly the strongest at present, while Qingzi, relying on being a shameless, crafty rascal, could perhaps barely contend with her... Could I really lose to the Young Prince? Wu Xu thought it over and realized the possibility was quite high. Right now, he was barely clinging to top-tier standing. "Rusty Sister is asking whether to kill them," Wu Xu said, turning his head back. The battlefield of the top-tiers was on the rooftops. The iron armor had made a few quick gestures in a spare moment, which Wu Xu had spotted and passed on to Han Qingyu. "Don't kill them," Han Qingyu said. Wu Xu signaled back to Rusty Sister. At that moment, in the courtyard below, a certain veteran whom people called Uncle Shiliang suddenly choked with emotion. If he hadn't seen wrong, the movements that top-tier figure in full armor had just directed upward were classified communication hand signals unique to the Sole Witness Legion. He could no longer decipher the specific message expressed by the variations introduced over twenty years later, but he felt an absolute, certain familiarity with the logic behind the gestures itself. So... is this actually a secret operation by the Legion to take over the City of Iniquity? Starting from the bottom... Xu Shiliang rapidly pieced together the logic of the situation... and in his heart, he became convinced that this possibility was extremely likely. "Fourth Army veteran Xu Shiliang will never be able to return to the ranks... but I am so glad to have another chance to fight to the death for the Legion." "..." "Old Drunkard!" He Guang turned during a lull in the fighting and roared. That fellow Shiliang had actually spaced out in the middle of battle, and He Guang feared he would get killed. Instead—shing! Xu Shiliang charged out, blade horizontal. "Old... fuck!" He Guang stared blankly for a second, then muttered slowly, "That bastard." The combat prowess Old Drunkard Shiliang displayed at this moment was not inferior to He Guang's. Which meant that with sufficient resources and opportunity, this fellow actually stood a chance of breaking into the top tier. And this strength was something he had kept hidden for over ten years. ... Now, nothing could be seen, yet the sounds of clashing and slaughter from the alleys over there could still be heard. The duel between top-tier combatants sent vibrations through the ground beneath their feet from time to time... The thousand-man formation stood at the eastern end of Third District's main street, keeping a vigilant watch on their surroundings while awaiting the outcome. If that fight was lost, then no matter how desperately these men fought to the death, it would change nothing. In the world of source energy, the scale of troop numbers was certainly important, but high-end combat power was the 1 in front of all the zeroes. Without that 1, the digits held no meaning. "It seems to be over." As the sounds gradually died down, someone spoke up after two seconds. "Yeah," another replied. No one spoke further. Every single person stared intently at the entrance of the alleyway a few hundred meters ahead. Waiting. Waiting. Finally, a hunched figure stumbled out, walking onto the street. "It's Boss Storm! Boss!" members of the Storm Bloodbattle Gang shouted. Boss Storm turned his head and smiled at his crew. Suddenly—cough!—blood sprayed from his mouth and streamed down from his nose... Taking a moment to steady himself, he straightened his back once more and raised the blade in his hand with a grin. "Roar!" The battle formation answered. At the same time, behind Boss Storm, more figures supporting one another emerged from the alley one after another, standing there and struggling to straighten their postures. Tonight, on the main street of Third District, in front of the thousand-man formation, the shadows of these wild band bosses and elites mingled, elongated by the moonlight. Barring any subsequent accidents, after tonight, they would bring their brothers a bright future—the kind they had never dared dream of before. "Roar!" "Roar!" Suppressing their excitement as best they could while maintaining formation, the crew members ran over together... On this night, the roar of victory belonging to the underclass of Third District shook the entire City of Iniquity. "Of course our top-tiers are stronger! Theirs ran away like dogs!" "They didn't kill them. I think it wasn't necessary—killing a top-tier means a fight to the bitter end." "Heh, what major faction elites? Your big bro hacked them down just the same, you hear?" "Two days left, sure, but I can't imagine what else they could possibly pull... We're going to win." "..." Surrounded by their brothers, the fighters who had returned from battle chatted and bragged. "Uncle Shiliang," Lubi Azha called out softly as he approached and watched him for a moment. "Aye." Uncle Shiliang's voice was tinged with joy. Breaking away from an exchange of glances with Boss He Guang that could best be described as either "no comment" or "can't be bothered to explain," he turned to look at Azha, smiled, and beckoned him over. Once Azha reached him, Uncle Shiliang slung his arm over Azha's shoulder. As they walked back together, he said: "Remember how you used to ask me all the time whether your dad didn't love your mom and you? You said he seemed like he didn't care for you two very much. Like he'd only found a woman and fathered a child just to see what kind of degree of fusion would come out..." "Actually, he must have loved you. It was just that he had a bad temper and didn't know how to show it... I wasn't there the day they died, but I think if it hadn't been to save your mother, your father definitely wouldn't have died. He had a Grade A degree of fusion. He was very strong."