Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 162

The fallen cross globe was like a strange switch, pressing the accelerator in a world that was previously flowing normally.

Eugene looked up, hearing the noise around him speed by his ears. He saw those arrogant men angrily stepping forward to grab the troublemaking child, but then he saw someone reach out to stop them. At that moment, he felt Jason in his arms twitch slightly.

The movement woke him up. Eugene lifted Jason, and someone nearby also lent a hand. They pushed through the crowd, carrying the heavy Jason inside. Little Gemma, not knowing what was happening, dared not step forward. She stood at the edge of the circle, peeking in, and when she saw Eugene carrying a bloodied man, she quickly stepped back, her curiosity battling her fear.

But Eugene couldn’t worry about her. His mouth was set in a tight line, his face dark, and he heard the shouting and arguing growing louder. One of Gemma’s monkey-like cousins was pushed out from the center, rolling several times due to the force.

Gemma was instinctively terrified. It felt like every time a storm hit, her mother held her tightly, praying their small shack wouldn’t be blown away or that they wouldn’t drown. She looked around, then stumbled after Eugene with her short legs.

Eugene didn’t look back. Even from a distance, Gemma could smell the spreading scent of blood. A gust of wind blew past, making Eugene’s messy hair stand up. A small gray shadow seemed to be blown off him but then hovered in the air for a moment before flying away with the wind.

Gemma widened her eyes, seeing that it was a small gray bird struggling to flap its wings, quickly flying away.

“Gemma!”

Just as she was standing on tiptoe to see where the bird went, a woman’s scream called her back. It was her mother, running towards her barefoot and picking her up. “Where have you been? Don’t go outside—”

It was as if the universe conspired against her. Around her, countless people emerged from the crowded houses and shacks, discussing loudly and anxiously. More people were rushing in the direction Gemma had come from.

“Bird.” Gemma tried to tell her mother about the cute little creature flying with the wind, but the frightened woman didn’t notice what her young daughter was trying to convey. She didn’t even notice Eugene, who was carrying a bloodied man into a narrow alley.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper had placed a Gray Sentinel on each of them for emergency communication. Eugene’s signal had just been sent out when Hasting, who had the best sense of direction, arrived under the sentinel’s guidance. By then, a large crowd had gathered around Eugene. He could barely push through the crowd because everyone wanted to confirm if it was Jason.

Especially the Brotherhood members, all dressed for work, their bodies steaming from exertion. They had rushed over upon hearing the news. Jason’s name carried more weight than Eugene had imagined. They bombarded Eugene with questions. Someone offered their slightly more spacious (actually bare) living room for them to place Jason, and someone had already gone to find a doctor.

“What happened outside?” Amid the chaotic noise, Hasting pushed through the crowd without removing his cloak.

Eugene recognized his voice and build, making way for him. Knights were skilled in combat and knowledgeable about injuries. Hasting crouched down to examine Jason.

“If he weren’t so strong, he would have stopped breathing long ago.” Hasting shook his head. As he spoke, Jason’s muscles twitched, but his face was ashen. Even those with little medical knowledge could see he was dying.

“The doctor is on the way!” someone shouted anxiously.

Hasting didn’t respond. He exchanged a look with Eugene. Both knew: Jason’s injuries were too severe. Most doctors on Paradise Island were barely qualified. They could handle minor ailments like toothaches for people like Aquinas, but they were powerless to save Jason.

“Is there any other way?” Eugene asked hoarsely. Hasting didn’t immediately answer. They both turned their heads to see the growing crowd outside the shabby house.

“Go find the Fox,” Hasting said firmly, his voice barely above a whisper. “He once brought out an elven gift from his home, later used for trading. If that thing is still around…”

Eugene immediately tried to stand, but Hasting held him down.

“I’ll go,” he said. “This needs to be reported immediately.”

The Duke and rabbit-headed shopkeeper had never shown special treatment towards Jason, but from the beginning, they had agreed on Jason’s importance. Hasting believed that Fox, mingling with them and stirring up trouble on Paradise Island, understood this too.

Hasting didn’t need to search specifically. With the Fox’s pervasive nature, there had to be someone nearby. Hasting, though taciturn, was the best observer among the knights. Amid the angry, sad, and clueless crowd, he quickly identified his target. Before the person could react, Hasting pulled them from the center of the whirlpool.

She was quite small, unable to resist being dragged. When she realized what was happening, she instinctively tried to shout, but Hasting pinned her against a wall, covering her mouth.

Hasting revealed his face, and the woman’s eyes lit up, her movements stopping.

“Don’t make a fuss,” Hasting warned, releasing her. She leaned into his movement, almost collapsing into his arms. Even so, she pretended to stumble, her chest brushing against him.

“Why so rough?” The woman smiled. “Just one look from those eyes, and I’d follow you to hell.”

Hasting, well-versed in such flirtations but unequipped with responses, remained stiff. “You work for a Fox. I need to see your boss.”

“I’m Susan, not Fox.” Her eyes roamed his face, clearly wanting to lift his cloak. “It’s early, but my place is close.”

“Find Yitzfa and tell him Green has an emergency.” Hasting remained unmoved. “You know Jason. Yitzfa will want him alive. Tell him what happened.”

He placed a golden coin in Susan’s hand. Instinctively, she clenched it.

The reward was tempting, but Susan was suspicious. She did work for the Fox and had been involved in the recent agitation. This handsome man’s precise use of a Fox’s name, currently in White Bridge, made her wary.

“You don’t need to doubt. Just pass the message. They’ll understand,” Hasting added, seeing her hesitation.

He made sense. Susan quickly assessed his words and the coin’s weight, adjusted her skirt, and ran off. She brushed past Shiloh, who was hurrying with Aquinas.

“Your time has come.” Shiloh pushed Aquinas. “Go inside and pray for Jason. Negotiate with your God and get the best discount you can.”

Aquinas had no chance to protest before being pulled in by eager people. Jason didn’t believe in Aquinas, but the old swindler had deep roots here. Many saw him as a lifeline, parting to let him through.

Shiloh explained to Hasting, “I couldn’t let him out of sight. He’d get lost. I had to bring him.”

Lowering his voice, he asked, “What happened to Jason?”

“Wolf Family’s dandies.” Hasting didn’t lower his voice. “They felt Jason offended them and decided to punish him.”

“Bullshit! Jason wouldn’t offend anyone!” someone interjected, agitated. “I don’t believe it—”

“Are they still here?” Shiloh ignored him, watching the crowd moving towards the main road. “With so many people, will there be a fight?”

……

There was indeed a fight outside, and it was spiraling out of control quickly.

Innate arrogance blinded Pendrel and his companions to the disparity in strength between them and the lowly people of Paradise Island. Even with the latest, most powerful weapons, seven men against seventy was a losing battle.

Unfortunately, they learned nothing from Bravi’s death. Until the first punch flew, they believed their status would fend off the rising anger. By the time they realized even lowly people’s attacks hurt, it was too late.

The only one who could have controlled the situation was beaten half to death by Pendrel and his friends. Family honor and gods couldn’t save them. Without direct combat, the crowd’s chaos, shoving, and trampling were enough to kill Ricky and his injured companion on the spot.

Pendrel and the remaining few scrambled onto the carriage. Today, they had borrowed Alexander’s official carriage, equipped with protective magic. It could withstand fire and impacts. With the doors shut, ordinary weapons couldn’t penetrate easily.

But a frenzied crowd wouldn’t be calmed by a sturdy carriage. Seeing Ricky’s trampled body, they realized city people were no different: they bled and broke bones when hurt and suffocated under pressure. City people weren’t gods. They weren’t insignificant ants. In the face of death, class barriers meant nothing.

Thus, the spacious, elegant carriage was overturned by the crowd. The injured men inside tumbled, their heads hitting the walls. Amid the frenzied shouts, they clutched their heads, finally seeing fear in each other’s eyes.

“They’re all crazy,” Pendrel said in despair.

---

The author has something to say:

“The Healing Fruit, a gift from the Elven Forest.” Yitzfa gazed at the small, weightless fruit in his palm that had slipped from the envelope.

——Chapter 34

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 161

Gemma was standing in front of her house, crying because her cousins had taken her ball. It was a precious toy her brother had secretly brought home from his work outside because today was her birthday.

But the mischievous boys didn’t understand her feelings at all. They saw the ball, yelled in excitement, and took it, tossing it back and forth in the narrow gaps between houses. Gemma was only five, with short legs that couldn’t keep up with the nimble boys. She cried until her voice was hoarse.

Right now, all the adults in the house were working, and no one was around to comfort her.

Exhausted from crying, Gemma sniffled and walked in the direction her cousins had gone, hoping to get her ball back. But she was too short and kept her head down, wiping away tears. After only a few steps, she bumped into someone and nearly fell on her bottom.

Fortunately, the person reacted quickly and caught her.

“What’s wrong?” Eugene looked at the tiny, frail child, who was so light he could lift her with one hand.

He judged from her yellowish hair tied into a small braid that she was a girl and gently steadied her.

Kids on Paradise Island, regardless of their age, were always dressed in drab colors. Parents who were particular would sew belts for them, while others just looked like they were wrapped in rags. They were all malnourished and skin and bones, so figuring out their appearance required some skill.

Gemma didn’t have any concept of strangers and tearfully said, “Aruna took my ball,” but her accent and the way she was sobbing made it hard for Eugene to understand her. He only knew that as soon as he put her down, she would run off, and after only a few steps, she would almost fall again. He quickly stepped forward to pick her up again.

“Walk slowly,” Eugene said. His accent in the local dialect had improved significantly over the past few days. Gemma understood him and didn’t run anymore, grabbing onto Eugene’s pants instead.

Was she trying to guilt-trip him?

Eugene was afraid that pulling away too forcefully might break the child’s bones, so he let her lead him forward while he tried to ask questions. “Where’s your mother? Grandpa and grandma? Where are the adults in your family?”

He had just switched shifts with Shiloh, who was monitoring Aquinas, and wanted to take a nap. He didn’t want to waste his time on this little blonde girl.

With an adult’s leg to hold onto, Gemma walked more steadily. Whether she didn’t understand Eugene’s questions or just ignored them, she didn’t answer and instead led him to the main road.

Not far away, several boys, around seven or eight, were playing noisily, throwing a ball back and forth. There was no spacious area for them to play on Paradise Island, so they gathered near the main road. Some lazy idlers took advantage of the good weather to lie around sunbathing. Eugene understood, from the little girl’s fixed gaze, that she wanted the ball.

“Is that yours?” Eugene asked, realizing.

“Gemma’s ball,” Gemma replied immediately.

It wasn’t really a toy, but more of a decoration. The kids were making a lot of noise. Eugene squinted to get a better look and finally recognized it as a cross globe, a decoration left over from some party. These kinds of cheap trinkets could be found in the city’s trash bins all the time.

Eugene was considering whether to save time and forcibly take the ball from the boys when he saw a four-wheeled carriage approaching from the end of the road. The horses pulling it were well-fed and looked more spirited than the lazy idlers by the roadside.

This was the main road, so carriages coming and going were not unusual, except this one stopped near the Paradise Island side.

The coachman, wearing a soft felt hat, leaned out to confirm the location, then spoke to someone inside the carriage and jumped down.

Eugene instinctively took two steps back, hiding half of his body in the shadow of a building distorted by makeshift constructions.

Gemma was also somewhat shy (mostly afraid of “people from outside in fancy clothes”). Seeing Eugene back off, she immediately stopped watching her ball and quickly hid behind him, peeking out.

The mischievous boys reacted quickly, scattering like a flock of frightened sparrows before the carriage even stopped.

“As if anyone wants to touch them,” Ricky sneered, disdainful of the scattering kids.

Pendrel leaned out the carriage window, watching the coachman struggle to drag Jason out of the carriage. The coachman was smaller than Jason and took a long time to succeed. Finally, out of strength, he roughly pushed Jason’s body to the roadside and called out to some people lying nearby.

“Look and see who this is,” the coachman said, though he was deferential to the people inside the carriage. He was arrogant towards the slow-moving onlookers, stepping back exaggeratedly as if afraid their lice would jump on him. “If you know him, drag him inside. If not, leave him here to rot.”

Jason’s face was swollen beyond recognition. A few onlookers whispered among themselves, unsure if it was him.

“This looks like Jason, doesn’t it?”

“But it can’t be… Jason is strong.”

“Why was he sent back by a city carriage?”

“Is he dead?”

“What happened?”

Ricky and his group had intended to leave, but Pendrel noticed something odd: more people were gathering around Jason, whispering and even squatting down to try and wake him.

“Hey.” Pendrel sat up. “It seems this guy might be someone important.”

Pendrel and the others leaned out to look, locking eyes with one of the men who had just raised his head. The man’s hair and beard were a mess, making him look like any other lazy idler waiting to die, but the moment he locked eyes with Pendrel, a shiver ran down his spine.

But when the man saw the people in the carriage, he immediately looked down again. That moment of coldness felt like an illusion.

Originally, they had planned to dump Jason and leave, especially since they all had visible injuries, and it was undignified to be seen in public. Their hastily prepared carriage didn’t have the usual powders to cover their wounds, so none of them wanted to leave the carriage. But seeing the crowd gather and realizing Jason seemed to be respected, Ricky and the others sensed an opportunity. What better way to assert authority than to crush someone else’s?

Suddenly, their pain seemed to vanish. Ignoring their bleeding wounds, they got off the carriage. The crowd instinctively made way.

They didn’t want to speak directly to the onlookers. Ricky gave the coachman a look, and he quickly understood.

“What’s this man’s name? What’s his status?” the coachman asked loudly.

To his surprise, no one answered. The man who had met Pendrel’s gaze before said quietly, “Sir, what crime did he commit to deserve such punishment?”

The coachman hesitated, glancing at the group. Ricky and Pendrel exchanged looks, realizing none of them could answer. White Bridge had its laws, but Pendrel and his companions’ only duty was serving their young masters. Few had studied the laws seriously, much less memorized the offenses this man might have committed.

“You know him?” Ricky asked, tilting his chin, observing the man’s straight posture despite squatting. He looked like he could be a good enforcer.

The man he held was barely breathing, his face swollen and bruised beyond recognition. He looked through Jason’s tattered coat to find a shirt with only the front intact, the collar marked with hesitant strokes spelling “Jason” in ink.

This was a word Eugene had taught him in their first lesson. Like many beginners, Jason had practiced repeatedly to remember, writing it on his few belongings.

“His name is Jason,” Eugene said.

There was a collective gasp, and the crowd grew restless. Jason’s Brotherhood members were still working, but his reputation on Paradise Island wasn’t just from the Brotherhood. He was known for his kindness and integrity, having helped many honest residents. Even Eugene, who had initially felt out of place, quickly became close to Jason, willing to help him by lending him decent clothes and leading him into the city to find his brother.

Eugene’s knees scraped the ground, pebbles digging into his flesh. He needed the pain to stay calm.

“Oh, he has a name,” Pendrel sneered. “It’s a shame. If he’d told us his name two hours ago, none of this would have happened.”

“What happened?”

“He offended us,” Pendrel said impatiently. “That’s his crime. Are you his brother? Kneel and apologize for him, and we’ll call it even.”

He genuinely thought he was being magnanimous. Even Ricky and the others looked at him disapprovingly, but Pendrel was intrigued by this man. He felt his gang always needed fresh blood.

Having gotten his answer, Eugene stopped looking at them.

He had been a bandit for years, been hurt, and hurt others. During the worst years, he had seen his mentor beaten to death—their face swollen like Jason’s, colorful bruises, but their lips and cheeks were pale, with blood seeping from their mouth.

He knew such injuries meant severe internal damage. Jason, in this state, even an elven king couldn’t heal him.

“Hey, didn’t you hear me?” Pendrel tapped his cane on the ground.

Eugene stayed silent. The crowd around them also grew quiet. Eugene cradled Jason’s neck with one hand, the other hanging by his side. Hidden under his old coat was a long knife, almost as long as a short sword.

Hasting had taught him to keep the blade sharp enough to bring down a man with one strike.

All he needed to do was raise his wrist and pull it out…

Plop.

A strange noise.

Everyone’s attention shifted: a round metal ball the size of a baby’s head had hit Pendrel and rolled to Ricky’s feet.

It was a cross globe. A skinny boy with big eyes stood among the adults, looking up stubbornly and angrily, just like his brothers around him.

---

The author has something to say:

A cross globe seems to have several names. It’s the round ball that accompanies a scepter in medieval paintings. Gemma’s is plain, picked up by an adult to pacify a child.

I love adding little details that don’t affect the plot if unnoticed. Some attentive readers often spot them, and their comments make me very happy.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 160

Jason cautiously stopped in his tracks when he saw several black carriages blocking the street and numerous people standing along the road—it made his heart sink.

This street was sealed off.

Shop owners and customers who didn’t know what was happening were stuck inside, but hardly anyone complained. Perhaps it was because the men conducting the search looked stern and unapproachable.

This area was already quite peripheral. The most popular shops and wealthiest patrons wouldn’t choose this place. The streets were mostly empty of passersby. Occasionally, an unlucky person would wander by and be roughly stopped and questioned by the men dressed in black uniforms that matched the carriages. Some well-dressed men with gleaming swords at their sides also gathered in groups of twos and threes, looking arrogant and threatening anyone they deemed suspicious.

They must be looking for Peter and his group.

Jason understood immediately. He had only hesitated for a moment at the other end of the long street, and someone had already noticed him. Trying to act casual, he turned around and started walking away, hoping the distance would—

“Hey! You!” a man shouted at him. “Stop!”

Jason bolted.

Peter had been right to ask him to keep watch. The people in the storm cellar couldn’t have imagined that within one night, a thorough search would bring the pursuers so close. Under these circumstances, hiding underground wouldn’t help. Even hiding in a fireplace would be futile.

But Jason wasn’t very familiar with the terrain here. He tried to avoid Peter’s hiding place, but as he ran, he found himself back at their hideout. The distinctive pigeon weathervane on the roof was spinning in the wind.

Worse, someone was chasing him. They knew the area better than he did and quickly took a shortcut to cut him off.

“Stop! You thief!” a blond man in an embroidered waistcoat shouted. “If you don’t want to die, surrender now!”

Jason stood still, glancing at the decorative sword at the man’s waist—it looked more like an ornament—

But he really couldn’t run anymore. If his suspicious behavior provoked them further, no matter how strong he was, it would be hard to escape six men.

Jason raised his hands, putting on a frightened expression.

“Sir, have mercy. I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, trembling.

“Then why did you run?” The men, panting and angry, looked furious. “Don’t try to lie!”

Jason paused, about to concoct a story about sneaking into the inner city from Paradise Island and stealing a drunk’s clothes to sell, but before he could speak, he felt a heavy blow to the back of his head. He stumbled forward, pain radiating from his head to his limbs, his heart pounding.

“Pendrel, we haven’t even asked—” The blond man was also surprised.

Pendrel, who had just clubbed Jason on the head, nonchalantly shook his wrist. “He looked shifty. I gave him a little lesson.”

Pendrel adjusted his sleeve, ready to raise his club for a second strike, but Jason suddenly turned around, grabbed Pendrel by the waist, and threw him to the ground like a sandbag.

This act of defiance enraged the other men. With Pendrel’s cries of pain as a backdrop, they surrounded Jason like a pack of hyenas, drawing their weapons.

……

Alexander emerged from a tobacco shop, having been delayed inside by an unexpected situation. The shop owner, over forty, used the shop as a secret rendezvous for his affair. When Alexander and his men barged in, the man had been entangled with his mistress. Terrified, he thought they were from the Monkey Family checking for contraband. Trembling, he revealed his entire stash of pleasure-enhancing drugs (monopolized by the Monkey).

There was no third person in the shop. Alexander glanced at the man coming out of the next door, who shook his head and moved on to the next shop.

…He was a secretary. Why did he have to do this kind of grunt work? Alexander sighed, about to take a step, when he sensed something amiss.

“Where are they?” he asked the two men in black uniforms beside him.

The men understood who Alexander meant and immediately answered, “They saw someone suspicious and went after them.”

Suspicious person. Alexander raised an eyebrow. “Who don’t they find suspicious?”

“They” referred to people sent by Adan’s mother’s side. Searching for suspects was supposed to be Louis’s job, but the lady insisted on being involved. The late cousin Bravi was from that side, and his death had stirred up a lot of anger in Adan’s family. With Adan also out of commission, things were in chaos. Louis, too busy to deal with them, had allowed them to tag along.

But those slick characters were too conspicuous, shouting and making a fuss, trying to boss around Louis’s men. The same happened when they chased a passerby earlier. They demanded Louis’s subordinates join them, and when refused, gathered a few of their own and ran off.

Alexander hadn’t wanted to bother with them, but the family was too noisy and reckless. After some thought, he decided to send two men to keep an eye on them—they could make fools of themselves, but he didn’t want them causing trouble under Louis’s name.

Before he could finish checking another shop, a subordinate brought back shocking news.

“What? They killed someone?” Alexander asked sharply.

“A pickpocket from Paradise Island. He’s not dead but badly injured.” The black-clad subordinate also disapproved of their actions, sounding scornful. “Six against one, and they got hurt too. Now they’re demanding reinforcements.”

Paradise Island. Hearing that term made Alexander’s heart skip a beat. The recent incidents were all connected to Paradise Island. Perhaps he was too sensitive, but…

“Find a doctor immediately. Don’t let that man die,” Alexander said decisively.

The subordinate hesitated.

“They took him away. They said it wasn’t our business.” That was a polite way of putting it. In reality, the injured men had been furious, saying many harsh things to those who followed them, like “unless Louis orders, they wouldn’t take orders from lowly people.”

Alexander’s origin from Paradise Island wasn’t a secret, nor was the disdain the Wolf Family had for him. It wasn’t the first time he was looked down upon. Alexander didn’t mind, and Louis had once said that staying in their circle too long made them blindly arrogant, thinking of themselves as superior, not realizing the Black Gold Families were just as insignificant in the face of true nobility.

With Louis absent, they had no reason to listen to Alexander. Forcing them would only escalate tensions. Louis already had a tenuous relationship with Khalif and was excluded from managing the auction. Alexander feared being too aggressive would cause unnecessary trouble for his boss.

“…I’ll report back to the Lord when I return,” Alexander said. “Keep searching.”

He could only hope those idiots wouldn’t be too reckless. Though White Bridge was bustling as usual, with Adan’s incident covered up and operations running smoothly, those at the center knew something was off with the recent string of events. Alexander sensed someone stirring up trouble behind the scenes. Louis seemed to know more, but regardless, this precarious situation couldn’t withstand much more turmoil.

But as the saying goes, “the white lamb jumps into the dirty puddle”, bad premonitions tend to come true.

While Alexander sincerely prayed for them to keep a low profile, Pendrel and his group were scheming how to vent their anger.

They hadn’t expected the man they casually stopped to be such a fierce fighter. If he hadn’t been unarmed while they had weapons, they might have suffered more significant losses. Even so, Pendrel felt his neck was definitely dislocated, and Ricky, sitting beside him, had a bloody face. Two others had broken limbs. None of them were unscathed.

“I called for help, but those guys rolled their eyes and didn’t move.” Ricky, his mouth full of blood, spat on the carriage floor as he kept cursing. “It must be Alexander’s doing. Who the hell is he? If it weren’t for Louis, I’d beat him to death today and pull his guts out through his mouth to see if he can still pretend to be reasonable.”

Pendrel’s group echoed their disdain. They had always disliked Louis’s faction, who always wore a disdainful, cold expression, making any attempt to curry favor or build relationships futile.

But someone still had some sense, saying, “Enough. We’re in no position to go after Louis now. Remember—” He lowered his voice.

They recalled that their greatest support, Adan, was still in a coma. Their family’s business and status were being eyed by other Elders. They had no one to contend with the unshakable Louis, and their resentment towards Alexander gradually subsided.

“So we’re just going to take this beating?” Pendrel grumbled, forgetting they had instigated the fight.

“Here’s the plan. Ricky and Quill—you two look the most injured. Report this to the Lady,” the oldest man said. “Even if she’s too busy now, she’ll at least hold it against Louis. When Mr. Adan recovers, there will be an explanation.”

“And him?” Pendrel kicked Jason, who lay on the carriage floor. They had brought him along just to defy Alexander. Otherwise, they might have dumped him by the roadside.

It was just a poor wretch. Taking him back would only dirty their garden.

Ricky leaned over, checking Jason’s breath. “He seems dead.”

“Then toss the body out,” Pendrel said in disgust.

“No,” the older man said with a malicious grin. “He said he was from Paradise Island, didn’t he? We’re not far from there. Let’s send him home.”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 159

Every Wolf knew the legend of the Holy Grail.

Long ago, a young Prima would lie on her mother’s knee, listening as she and her friends casually chatted about some ancient family legends. But these vague and fantastical “world-conquering” tales were far less interesting to them than some secret love stories. They would tell these stories only to amuse the children present.

But little Prima wasn’t interested in conquering the world. She preferred romantic tales of princes and princesses and always lost interest halfway, begging for more details about “the princess’s life after marrying in the palace.”

So, when Louis told her that Khalif had been trying to capture or create the Holy Grail all this time, she was too shocked to speak.

“But isn’t that a myth?” Prima asked, almost pleading. “Like the Singing Barn, the Fountain of Youth, and the Deep Sea Treasures—stories people made up in the past. How could something like the World Dragon, the Holy Grail, and other things exist in this world?”

“I don’t know if the World Dragon exists, but the traces of the Holy Grail and the Lamp Bearers have never disappeared.” Charlie spoke very softly, as if afraid of disturbing something sleeping beside him. “Twenty-five years ago… you were very young then, and you wouldn’t remember this, and no one would have told you specifically. The Lamp Bearers appeared in a small town in the east that winter.”

In the old Wolf Family warehouse, there were at least three items that could track the Lamp Bearers. On that day, the warehouse keeper noticed something unusual. Within an hour, Khalif and two loyal Elders received the news and rushed over personally.

However, due to limited transportation conditions at the time, by the time they arrived, most of the traces had disappeared. The room where the newborn had been was covered in blood, and everyone in the house was dead. They couldn’t find the newborn’s body and couldn’t separate the blood from the baby’s in that blood-soaked hell. Most importantly, the Lamp Bearers had already left. For several years, Khalif suspected that those immortal beings had killed everyone and taken the Holy Grail.

Because the Lamp Bearers weren’t under human control, their sole purpose was to seek and serve their master, the World Dragon. This was why Khalif and others like Lestrop tried to start with pure, innocent infants. If left to grow freely, the Holy Grail would realize that it had a choice between the Wolf and the Lamp Bearers.

But after several years with no signs of the World Dragon’s awakening on any continent, Khalif concluded that the Holy Grail had perished back then and gave up the pursuit, instead turning instead to creating the Holy Grail. During this period, the Elder positions changed several times. After Louis and a new generation of leaders rose, Khalif’s close confidants who had accompanied him to the small town had all died. For some hidden psychological reason, he never chose another confidant to share this secret.

“Creating the Holy Grail.” Prima covered her face with her hands, but tears still flowed through her fingers to her wrists.

“Why call it that? What is the Holy Grail? Aren’t those children? Born and raised, but not even having a chance to open their eyes.” She trembled violently as she cried. “He—they killed so many children and women…”

Charlie watched Prima cry, feeling as if he were seeing himself and Louis as children, lying in bed and questioning each other.

Are we human? We look like everyone else.

But our blood is different. Our blood can awaken a demon…

If we’re human, why do we have this blood?

If we’re not human, why do we have mouths that speak, eyes that gaze, ears that listen, minds that fear, and limbs that can flee?

Charlie reached across the table and gently pushed Prima’s fallen brown hair back.

“Don’t cry, Prima,” he said softly. “You can’t change what has already happened, and neither can I.”

The Holy Grail was Khalif’s key to his ideal path. But as his attempts continued to fail and time relentlessly marched on, he suddenly realized that even if the experiment succeeded immediately and the Holy Grail was born safely, it would still take a long time to raise it until its body (blood) was sufficient to awaken and continuously feed the World Dragon. Meanwhile, his hair had begun to fall out, his teeth had loosened, and what used to be easy, intense fights and endless work had become increasingly difficult.

He needed more time or a body and spirit that matched his strength. He might have tried more than one method because many people in history had similar thoughts: changing their own existence to live longer, merging with hard substances like rock or steel; pursuing the witches’ evil methods to stay eternally young; or constantly transferring their soul, like a terrifying tenant, into ideal bodies.

“This is just my personal speculation. Only he knows the truth. But I can tell you clearly, there is no true immortality. Changing oneself and abandoning human identity can extend life, but what is the point of a stone breathing for a long time? Witches may always look young and beautiful, but that’s either an illusion or superficial. Even if their faces remain as bright as sixteen-year-old girls, their joints and internal organs will age, unable to match their youthful appearance.” Charlie said, “In the end, he chose the time magic you saw. Perhaps the Monkey had a hand in it. Xanye’s role is more than just a mistress. She has been pushing the whole magic plan.”

Prima was crying to the point of exhaustion. She weakly shook her head and managed to drink the large, sweetened cold tea.

“Father never trusted the Monkey, even though their connection is unprecedentedly close now. That’s why Xanye didn’t enter those rooms with him last night.” Prima’s thoughts were inevitably confused, but she had long seen some things clearly without much thought.

“Assuming the legend is true, the bloodline that can awaken the power must come from a Wolf. The Monkey has no reason to assist him selflessly.” Prima didn’t want to mention the Holy Grail anymore. She rarely wiped her nose ungracefully in front of “Louis”. “They must have an agenda…” As she spoke, Prima suddenly widened her eyes.

She couldn’t help but think, could Xanye want a child with Khalif’s bloodline?

According to their patrilineal tradition, if Xanye were pregnant, it would undoubtedly be a “Wolf”.

Prima shivered. At this moment, she didn’t want to explore whether Xanye intended to use her child for the Holy Grail experiment or to infiltrate the Wolves as a wedge for the Monkeys. Either way, it confirmed to her that the woman was insane.

Then she laughed at herself. Her father was getting along with such a madwoman, which showed that he was also a madman.

A madman who had trampled on countless innocent lives.

Prima drank nearly half a pot of tea, seemingly trying to replenish all her tears in one go. Finally, she put the empty cup back on the saucer. The force made a crisp sound that startled even herself.

“You told me all this, Louis.” She finally calmed down, beginning to think about why Louis knew so much.

“Is it because you have been investigating all this? That magic in my house’s basement…” Although she was somewhat prepared, facing reality was still difficult. Prima struggled to find the right words. “Is it also something so evil?”

Charlie said, “Time magic is one of the most profound fields in magic. To my knowledge, only two highly respected professors have successfully conducted time reversal experiments for academic purposes. I guess the Monkey couldn’t access nor had the patience to follow the two professors’ principles, instead trying to break those principles. Everyone knows the cost of shortcuts in magic.”

“Is there a way to stop it?” Prima blurted out.

Charlie raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. If Prima’s kindness, sensibility, and tranquility were inherited from her mother, then her courage and decisiveness undoubtedly had the shadow of a young Khalif.

He didn’t answer immediately but pondered for a moment. Prima knew Louis was assessing her and leaned forward anxiously, her expression a rare instance of seriousness. “I’m serious, Louis. Father… no matter what, he has reached this point, and any advice is bound to fail. Besides, he has killed so many innocent people. If God can’t make him repent, then stopping him from becoming a demon is the only way I can redeem him as his daughter.”

“I absolutely can’t kill him, nor do I have the power to do so.” Prima almost cried again but held back. “But if… if there is anything I can do to help.”

This was a promise far beyond Charlie’s expectations.

Charlie sighed for the second time. “That basement is crucial. I need detailed information about it. But my hesitation is not about doubting your resolve. It’s about your safety.”

Prima looked at him.

“From your description, I guess that magic is actually time reversal, affecting a limited space and also the human body. The theory of finding gaps in time to leap through isn’t new. What is strictly forbidden is applying magic to living beings. The result is what you saw: he briefly reverted to his younger self. But this isn’t allowed by natural laws, causing him immense pain during the magic activation, needing potent drugs to numb his senses and endure it because his body instinctively rejects this change.”

“If each door has another life form supporting it, then the door with the least rejection is likely the one with the closest bloodline to him. This conclusion doesn’t even need deduction. Magic has a complete set of verifiable theories for this.” Charlie hadn’t wanted to say so much, but Prima’s courage far exceeded his expectations. He felt she deserved to know everything.

“Do you remember how many siblings you have, Prima? How many are still by your father’s side?” Charlie finally asked her the most brutal question of the day.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 158

“What’s the matter?” Prima asked nervously, twisting her fingers as she watched as Louis suddenly turned his head, as if listening to something. But it was still early, and the surroundings were exceptionally quiet.

“Nothing.” Louis—actually Charlie—couldn’t tell her that he seemed to have heard the sound of the Pluto Owl flying at high speed. He gently placed a cup of tea in front of Prima, urging her to drink a few sips as she seemed very anxious and needed some warmth to calm her down.

Prima held the cup in her hands but didn’t drink. She gazed down at the clear liquid inside. “…So, you have a shop here.”

They were in an old bookstore called Butter King, owned by Louis. The windows and doors were still covered in dust, just as they had been the last time Charlie was here. But the small upstairs space was relatively clean, furnished, and suitable for hosting a young lady.

Prima didn’t know how to start the conversation. Discussing such matters with her friends like Ellie didn’t seem appropriate, and her brothers always followed their father’s lead. She was afraid of discovering that she was the only one who thought her father was acting strangely.

This was the first time she met Louis without getting lost in her thoughts. Fortunately, he seemed to understand her confusion and didn’t rush her, instead quietly waiting.

This was what she liked about Louis. Many people found him somewhat unapproachable, but he was unexpectedly gentle in many surprising ways.

She didn’t know that Charlie was actually struggling, finding it completely against his nature to watch an innocent girl before him being so frightened and having to put on an act. But now he was Louis, and other than keeping a stern silence, Charlie couldn’t think of any other reaction his brother would have. However, he had set a limit for himself: if Prima started crying, he would have to comfort her.

Fortunately, Prima didn’t cry in the end. She hesitated for a long time, then finally, haltingly, told Louis what she had seen last night.

“Is my father…playing with dark magic?” Prima couldn’t help but seek confirmation from Louis after finishing her story. She knew Louis had never shown any interest in magic, but she had no one else to talk to.

Charlie thought for a moment. “You saw his appearance change.”

“He became much younger,” Prima said. “But at first, his skin color was terrifying. He looked like he was in pain and only calmed down after a while.”

“You said he became much younger,” Charlie confirmed. “But when he entered the conference room, under the light, the change was limited. However, he did seem more energetic than a few days ago.”

“No, you don’t understand what I mean,” Prima said urgently. “The change happened in that room. For a moment, I thought I had gone back to my childhood because I saw my father as he was ten years ago.”

Ten years ago marked the end of Prima’s happy childhood. At that time, Khalif was still with her mother. They often took her, almost an adult, to various banquets and concerts. Khalif would sit in the ladies’ boutique with her mother, helping her choose the most fashionable dresses for her coming-of-age ceremony. Although she had no complaints about her current life, as a child, she always hoped her parents would love her together. Therefore, she had a particularly vivid memory of her father from ten years ago, who had a strong voice and no wrinkles around his eyes or mouth.

“So, when he left that magic room, the magic disappeared—but not entirely. At least, it gave him a buffer period, restoring his strength and energy, making him look extraordinarily vibrant,” Charlie said quietly. “If what you saw outside wasn’t an illusion, then unfortunately, he might indeed be experimenting with forbidden magic, and he’s on the verge of success. Can you describe the situation in more detail, starting from when you entered the basement?”

Prima was surprised to see Louis pull out some flyers and a decorative quill from under a small table. He flipped over the flyers and began to scribble on the blank side, asking her various questions. Some details she thought she had forgotten gradually came back to her through his prompts.

“Louis, are you interested in magic?” Prima watched him with some admiration as he filled half a page with scribbles she couldn’t understand, then started listing things that looked like formulas. She had never heard of Louis studying magic or hiring a mage to work for him. Everyone in White Bridge knew Louis preferred to solve problems with strategy and force rather than relying on magic, except for necessary anti-eavesdropping and anti-surveillance measures.

Charlie didn’t respond immediately but quickened his movements. Finally, he turned the draft paper and handed it to Prima. At the bottom of the paper was a roughly drawn symbol.

“Did any of those ‘doors’ or clocks have this symbol?” he asked.

Prima looked carefully, hesitating a bit. “Is this a magic emblem? The doors didn’t seem to have it, and the clocks…” She thought back. Those clocks were various and included some particularly exquisite and cute ones that had caught her eye. “The clocks didn’t have it either,” she said confidently.

“So, the doors had locks? I remember you mentioned keys.”

“Yes, my father had a large bunch of keys, all kinds. They probably corresponded to those doors.”

Charlie nodded and took back the draft paper, looking at her.

“Prima,” he said softly, “assuming your father is indeed doing something terrible, what do you plan to do?”

Prima froze.

Actually, when she saw everything, she was mentally prepared. Many people had hinted or openly said that Khalif was becoming more and more unpredictable, increasingly unlike his old self. But to Prima, he was still a loving father. Despite the rumors, and her mother’s strong insistence from Demel Island that she leave White Bridge and live with her, she deceived herself by covering her ears.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t give up the privileged life and unique status in White Bridge. Her persistence in staying was partly due to Louis and partly because, as time passed, fewer people dared to oppose Khalif, but more people left him. Even his many children gradually distanced themselves. Prima didn’t want Khalif to open his eyes each day and not find a single person who loved him.

“What…is he doing?” After a long while, Prima asked softly.

Charlie looked at her. “Without seeing it firsthand, I can’t be sure what magic he is using. But if everything you said is true, we can roughly deduce his motive and desire.”

Regaining youth wasn’t an unusual pursuit. Few humans could genuinely accept and welcome death. For some, the process of approaching death was more unbearable than death itself.

In the second half of life, each day was weaker than the last, losing strength, teeth loosening, hair falling out, and skin losing elasticity, forming unsightly wrinkles that couldn’t be stopped no matter what efforts were made.

“Your father held a high position at a young age. He must have told you how brave and resourceful he was back then, how he defeated many enemies and thwarted numerous plots,” Charlie said calmly. “I guess he increasingly reminisces about those days.”

Prima whispered, “He does… But does that mean he’s using forbidden magic?”

“Nostalgia alone doesn’t prove it, but what you saw does.” Charlie pretended not to notice Prima’s resistance and continued, “If I’m not mistaken, the first stone slab on that underground path already contained magic. The clocks and doors were also products of magical visualization. You’re a smart girl, and you understand the symbolic meaning of these two items. You’ve already accepted reality. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have chosen to meet with me now.”

Like a stone falling into water, a frog could see the ripples spreading out. If Khalif were a mage, anyone entering that domain, like Prima, would immediately sense it. But he had no significant magical talent, focusing all his energy on himself, allowing Prima to sneak into the forbidden area.

Only someone as loved as Prima could do this. No one in the mansion dared to challenge Khalif’s temper, not even Xanye. His authority was the lock on that underground passage, and he never expected his supposedly sleeping daughter to follow him.

“If the clocks and doors don’t have magical emblems, then the key to activating the magic lies in that bunch of keys. The number of doors isn’t meaningless. I guess it’s the result of numerous failed attempts. Like painting, a skilled artist can hide the corrections while refining the work, but an amateur can easily make things worse and leave the flaws visible.” Charlie, as if struck by an idea, dipped the quill in ink again and wrote a string of symbols on the paper.

“The purpose of this magic is also easy to guess. He can regain youth inside the room. But forbidden magic is called forbidden for a reason. It’s not only because of its blasphemous power but also because achieving greater goals makes the magic structure more complex and the price higher. Historically, few who researched forbidden magic remained sane. These madmen often harm more than just themselves.”

At this point, Prima’s hands began to tremble. She put down the cup, but her shaking made the cup rattle against the saucer.

“Magic never creates something from nothing. It requires the conversion of energy, and nothing in this world can create life except life itself,” Charlie said. The girl across from him looked ready to collapse.

“Do you want me to stop?” Charlie asked softly. “What I’m about to say may make you feel worse.”

Prima’s body shook violently, but her head was bowed low. Charlie could only see her brown hair tied in a beautiful knot by her ear. Her long hair was smooth and silky. Despite the rush and panic, her appearance was still immaculate, with a light layer of powder and rouge on her face.

She didn’t speak, and Charlie didn’t push her, although he was anxious inside.

He had always thought that Khalif’s ambition devastated the innocent women and children sacrificed for the unattainable Holy Grail, as well as his and Louis’s lives. Prima’s unexpected story made him realize Khalif’s sins were deeper and more extensive.

No matter what Khalif did outside, he remained loving in Prima’s eyes. If this girl couldn’t accept the truth and turned against them…

Charlie sighed inwardly, thinking about how to persuade Louis to clean up the mess if things went wrong. Then Prima looked up.

Her eyes were wide open, determined not to blink, with a strange mix of sadness and regret on her face.

“Please tell me what my father has done,” Prima said, a tear rolling straight down her cheek without stopping.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 157

Dwight had just arrived at his residence when he happened to encounter a messenger delivering a new roster along with some small gifts.

Shivers briefly glanced through the gift box, which contained a set of glass snuff bottles, a handmade collapsible portable lantern, and a small box of premium cigarettes. The price wasn’t extraordinarily high, but the items were exquisitely crafted. Considering that every guest traveling to White Bridge received such a gift box, the total expenditure was quite substantial.

“Such generosity, just to adjust a few auction items and some entertainment programs?” Shivers wondered aloud as he browsed through the letter attached to the gift box. It was written in beautiful cursive handwriting, with a lengthy and flowery introduction and conclusion. Only the middle part “sincerely apologized” for the changes in the auction program for the day.

“Although Adan’s warehouse didn’t suffer significant losses, it needs to be sealed off for investigation. The items originally scheduled for today’s auction all need to be replaced. It’s their usual tactic to save the best items for last to keep guests coming back. It’s not easy to quickly find other items of equivalent value,” Dwight said as he skimmed through the catalog. “And they only had a few hours from midnight to now. Achieving this much already is quite impressive.”

“Mr. Louis said the Wolf King himself is taking charge. It seems he’s not too old to still handle things,” Shivers said with a slight frown. From their standpoint, they would have preferred if Khalif were an old man with white hair, no teeth, and had difficulty walking.

Dwight shook his head. “Half the credit goes to Adan, who was nearly killed by Vasilia. Even though he’s down, his pre-planned, effective responses to unexpected situations are essential for organizing such large events. Khalif’s strength doesn’t lie in this area. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have delegated power, at least not for the most lucrative auction.”

“The same goes for Louis. He would never fully delegate the Wolf’s armed forces to anyone but himself. This is why Louis hasn’t found an opportunity to eliminate him since becoming an Elder.” Dwight pondered for a moment. “With the auction’s organizer dead, a high-ranking official with sufficient authority must replace him to face the public. Khalif won’t hastily delegate power again, so he has to take charge himself. Once his attention is diverted, he’s likely to show vulnerabilities.”

Dwight also noticed that today’s description of Astrologer Kurt had been altered in the featured program. Some even exaggeratedly emphasized Kurt’s identity and status, almost depicting him as the only shining star in the universe. Upon confirming, he saw that besides the added and removed auction items, only Kurt’s description had been modified.

This was likely an attempt to raise the price, or perhaps… Khalif had changed his mind.

He realized Kurt’s value was higher than expected, at least more than the potential sale price.

This confirmed that during Kurt’s second meeting with Khalif, he had given the impression of being exceptionally valuable. High-value items sometimes failed to sell, and Khalif was laying the groundwork to keep Kurt.

The problem was that Kurt probably didn’t know that his former landlord Charlie and his brother were Khalif’s long-sought Holy Grail. If Kurt unknowingly made a prophecy pointing directly at the two brothers—

Dwight rubbed his temples, trying to concentrate, but the constant noise was impossible to ignore.

“What are they arguing about?” he asked, unable to bear it any longer. He hadn’t been this frustrated in a long time. He had spent half the night accompanying Rabbit Head to the so-called Paradise Island. Heaven knows, he understood why Priscilla and the knights often whispered about his cleanliness obsession, but if Priscilla had to endure the vast, foul-smelling garbage dump like he did, she would have fainted on the spot.

He couldn’t imagine how anyone could live in such a place long-term. If it hadn’t been the dead of night with limited visibility, he would have probably behaved as weakly as Priscilla, reacting to the maggots and rats in the sewers. Rabbit Head spent half the time comforting him and the other half gloating, thinking the darkness hid his expressions. This especially irritated the Duke, who felt his limits being continuously lowered by the other, yet he was helpless.

The mental torment combined with the physical exhaustion from a sleepless night made him extremely sensitive to noise.

“It sounds like Emerald.” The Knight Commander walked to the door and spoke with someone outside before returning. “Amber came back to see it, and they had a fight.”

Because Emerald was still a fledgling, it wasn’t too wild and uncontrollable. After a few meals, it accepted the Duke’s feeding, finding the human food both abundant and high-quality. Not having to hunt for food itself, it quickly accepted the set-up and enjoyed its meals, becoming quite content.

Well-fed, its temper improved significantly, and it gradually accepted the Duke bringing Amber in front of it. The boy took care of Emerald with genuine concern, treating it like a child with great patience.

Because of this, when the Duke temporarily assigned Amber to Priscilla to help Erica (essentially running errands and passing messages while the adults were busy), Emerald felt neglected. The normally well-fed Pluto Owl was now acting out, throwing tantrums at anyone it saw.

“If its too much trouble, let Amber take it to Erica for a break,” Dwight said, rubbing his head. “Rabbit Head made something to clip onto its wings to slow it down. It’s still a prototype, so we haven’t used it yet.”

The young Pluto Owl was intelligent enough to understand simple human intentions. Animals naturally hated having their freedom restricted, but it was also bored from being caged. Somehow, Amber managed to communicate with it. Once it calmed down, it was let out, happily flying around the room—though much slower than before, like a strange black kite.

Amber had prepared a large bag to carry Emerald, but the newly freed Pluto Owl refused to comply. Though it couldn’t fly fast, it maintained height, making Amber chase it around the room, knocking over decorations, causing more commotion than the earlier argument.

Dwight, desperate for a nap, finally couldn’t stand it and asked Shivers to grab his coat.

Shivers had already instructed the maids to prepare hot water for washing and lit sleep-inducing incense in the bedroom. Seeing the Duke still intending to go out, he worried about his health and personally escorted Amber and Emerald downstairs, urging the Duke to rest.

Although Dwight had inherited the Duke title for several years, he was still growing. Running around the continent during this critical phase of development worried the Knight Commander.

“Two hours of sleep will be enough,” Shivers said softly. “Shiloh is watching over Aquinas, so there won’t be any trouble. As long as that old man, Jason, and the few trade heads are there, Paradise Island is under control. Didn’t Mr. Charlie say Miss Prima might have seen something last night? With Charlie’s list holding Khalif’s attention, we have time before Kurt is taken away tonight.”

That was their plan.

The third basement level where Kurt was held was one of the most heavily guarded places by the Wolf Family. Only Khalif and Adan had the authority to open Kurt’s location. With Adan’s fate unknown, only Khalif could freely enter and exit. Even Louis had never ventured down the stairs to that level. They hadn’t known that every entryway from the first floor down had truth mirrors that could see through disguises and transformations to the bone. If Charlie and Louis hadn’t had almost identical bloodlines, Charlie, disguised as Louis, would have been exposed immediately.

Because of this, Charlie gave up trying to sneak in to meet Kurt, realizing he couldn’t handle Khalif, Xanye, and Adan’s men alone without external support.

Since infiltration was nearly impossible, Charlie planned to follow the carriage when Kurt was taken out of his comfortable prison, waiting for a chance to act. If the escort force was too strong, he’d wait for the handover moment during the auction to strike.

When that happened, the Wolf Family would inevitably react, marking the moment Charlie, Shiloh, and others joined forces with Yitzfa’s undercover agents to test the fruits of their efforts on Paradise Island. Since last night, they had been secretly organizing a strike to protest: their low-wage industries and menial jobs wouldn’t impact the inner city much in the short term, but the inner city’s dazzling auction relied on their more capable brothers and sisters.

When those lords, who only knew how to shout and whip workers, found the lights they relied on were dimmed due to lack of maintenance, the kitchens that should have been producing exquisite dishes were cold with extinguished stoves, and the countless coachmen, gardeners, maids, and laundresses refused to work, just appeasing the angry and dissatisfied guests would consume a large portion of the two families’ resources. Their dependence on these low-status people was even greater than that of the guests.

While military force might be the best way to restore order, as long as Louis was around, Khalif would find those Paradise Island people, whom they always looked down on, even more troublesome than pirates. And several Lions were already watching him closely, waiting for him to expose his neck.

“I have a bad feeling,” Dwight said, looking unwell.

“Everything is still under control—”

No, he thought Rabbit Head might use Louis’s identity to seduce Prima for information. Even though she was likely to reveal everything without that, Rabbit Head was always acting like a peacock, showing off to any woman he met.

He didn’t want to discuss this with Shivers and couldn’t determine if his unease was due to fearing Charlie’s overindulgence, Shiloh losing control, or Khalif learning everything from the astrologer. To him, the entire plan was fraught with potential pitfalls. Any step could trigger an explosion.

But Shivers insisted he rest, arguing that Mr. Charlie’s breakfast meeting with Miss Prima could seem too abrupt if they joined, making her hesitate to speak honestly.

“Make sure Amber knows how to remove the enchanted clasp on Emerald. Once you see Priscilla, don’t leave her side. If anything urgent happens and Erica can’t respond, have Emerald notify me—immediately.”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 156

Tracing back through history, the territories occupied by the various Black Gold Families were all taken through invasion. Ironically, the only group recognized as a violent gang, the Lion family, settled in the previously uninhabited snowy tundra through conquest. The other families’ stability and prosperity were based on plunder and oppression. Perhaps the Fox Family appeared the most gentle and harmless, but in essence, they still operated through a highly effective parasitic system.

When Alexander first began his studies, he hadn’t realized that the texts and ideas he was exposed to were things that most Paradise Island residents could never hope to encounter in their lifetimes. When he did realize this, the ensuing pain and resentment made him harbor a secret grudge against Louis for a time.

Robbers. Murderers. Frauds. The inner city was full of these well-dressed hypocrites. They arrived uninvited from afar, attracted by the area’s natural advantages, and treated the ancestors of Paradise Island’s inhabitants like mules, relentlessly building their so-called “home”.

Fahim, who arranged everything for him, easily saw through him. The extremely rational and thoughtful man didn’t try to mediate the subtle tension between the two boys and didn’t stop him from secretly visiting his family and facing the chasm-like divide between the inner city and Paradise Island. This divide didn’t even have much historical animosity; both sides instinctively tried to draw boundaries while simultaneously seeking coexistence.

So without anyone having to say much, young Alexander retreated on his own. He closed his textbooks, gradually trained himself to focus on other subjects, and achieved progress matching his efforts. After Fahim’s death, he stayed by Louis’s side. He didn’t know why Louis brought up this topic now.

“I was once shaken,” he admitted after a moment of silence. “But I chose you.”

The reasons behind Alexander’s decision were somewhat complex. First, Fahim and Louis had provided him with a previously unimaginable level of comfort. He couldn’t truly resent them because of history. Second, although the inner city had never fully accepted him, he no longer had a place in his family on Paradise Island either. Third, he found Louis to be very strong.

This strength wasn’t related to physical prowess. At the time, his boss was thin, pale, prone to fevers from the slightest breeze or rain, and frequently sick. He often had a stern face due to discomfort, rarely smiling or speaking. Yet none of this affected Louis’s ability to easily outshine Alexander in every non-physical aspect. He was both smart and insightful, excelling in various subjects as if they posed no challenge. Fahim treated him like an adult—an intelligent adult—which was quite remarkable since Fahim often publicly declared that the family was full of “fools”. Problems that drove Alexander crazy always found suitable solutions with Louis. He knew outsiders called him the “all-purpose secretary”, but many of the tasks he handled were actually pre-planned by Louis. He was merely a flawless executor.

Admiring strength might be a human instinct, and to this day, Alexander still respected Louis from the bottom of his heart. He knew that even with Fahim’s guidance, Louis’s life in White Bridge hadn’t been smooth. Fahim’s untimely death left Louis to stand his ground among the surrounding wolves and carve out a place under Khalif. Alexander was well aware of how much effort Louis had invested to achieve this.

He wanted Louis to succeed but didn’t know what Louis truly wanted.

It seemed Louis couldn’t provide an answer either. After a moment of silence, he suddenly changed the subject. “What did those two workers say?”

Alexander had been prepared to confess his secret efforts to support the residents of Paradise Island, including compiling compensation lists and distributing free bean soup to malnourished children at his own expense. Instead, he was caught off guard by the question and took a second to respond.

“They claimed the fire was an accident. Bravi’s severe injury was unexpected. They didn’t realize he was so fragile. They admitted others were involved but refused to give names for now. More pressure might make them crack, so I ordered the questioning to stop temporarily,” Alexander reported. “Bravi stopped breathing before midnight… Mr. Adan was delayed due to this and had to work late, leading to the attack.”

Though anyone with eyes could see that the debauched Bravi was a useless fool whose death was no great loss, he was Adan’s relative, making it difficult for Adan to stay uninvolved.

“So they just wanted to beat Bravi up and didn’t expect that pig to be so weak.” Louis tried to recall who Bravi was but couldn’t remember.

“That’s about right,” Alexander confirmed. “The smaller one withstood the interrogation well. Most information came from the other, but they didn’t plan their escape, so they genuinely don’t know where their accomplices are hiding.”

“Then we’ll find them,” Louis said, glancing at a cabinet. Alexander understood, went to a drawer, and pulled out a hand-drawn map. Louis marked several locations.

“The port and nearby streets, the southwest upper and lower streets with many vacant houses, and the scattered construction sites in this area.” Louis decided without much thought. “Also, the bilge compartments near the shore. These areas need a thorough search.”

“I’m going to Adan’s place. You’ll handle this,” Louis said.

……

Several hours earlier on Paradise Island.

Aquinas closed the door behind him, wiping sweat from his forehead, and hurried to the bed to check if his hidden stash was still there. Despite years of diligently playing his part, his “upper-class” lifestyle on Paradise Island was relative. The residents were generally poor, so even with many people willing to support him, they couldn’t offer much. Necessary expenses for maintaining appearances also couldn’t be avoided, so Aquinas relied on accumulating small amounts over time.

He had been hesitant, reluctant to give up his hard-earned reputation, hoping that the terrifying individuals who had coerced him would let him go after achieving their goals (though he still didn’t know what those were). However, recent developments had given him a bad feeling, and today’s near-out-of-control conflict had deepened this.

The trigger wasn’t significant—two oil refinery workers had skipped work to attend his gathering. The angry boss, losing production and money, stormed over to berate them and even wanted to get physical. Some insiders pushed him away, but by the time Aquinas heard the commotion, the conflict had escalated to a standoff involving over a hundred people on each side. If the cursed man hadn’t privately talked with him and the refinery boss, calming both sides, the situation might have turned bloody.

The two workers weren’t originally Aquinas’s followers because the refinery’s round-the-clock operations left them no time to attend gatherings. However, the recently spread death list included their family members who had died unjustly. Unable to accept this, they sought solace from Aquinas, the “messenger connecting the underworld and the living”.

Conflicts weren’t uncommon on Paradise Island, but the leaders of various factions usually restrained their followers to keep them manageable. Aquinas rarely saw such a large and emotional confrontation. The intense atmosphere and the irrational behavior of people used to being submissive made him nervous.

He knew those men were rapidly influencing the populace, but his status among his followers hadn’t changed. Initially, he planned to muddle through, but the enormous changes happening around him made him wary. Everyone could feel the oppressive tension hovering over Paradise Island, turning it into a powder keg. While Aquinas lacked other skills, his instinct for self-preservation was sharper than most. He had no evidence, but he sensed the men who had kidnapped him were waiting for the right moment. They had diffused the current conflict because the timing wasn’t right yet.

A smart person wouldn’t get involved in such matters, so he planned to run.

His savings wouldn’t last long in the inner city, with its endless temptations. Aquinas had no confidence in himself—after all, he had lost all his money in just a few days, ending up on Paradise Island.

The auction would end in two days, and he had found someone who sold black market tickets, negotiating a spot to escape to Fortuna City and switch to another ship.

Stuffing a wad of cash into his pocket, he opened the door and ran into someone.

“Where are you going?” Shiloh asked suspiciously.

He was still wearing the white robe representing Aquinas’s assistants. Without followers around, he had pulled back the hood, revealing a messy head of red curls like a cat-tangled ball of yarn.

Aquinas was startled and stammered, “N-Nowhere.”

Shiloh scratched his chin, watching as Aquinas slowly held his breath.

“The shopkeeper said you might run away, so I’m keeping an eye on you,” he said, giving Aquinas a bright smile. “That’s not true, is it?”

“Of course not,” Aquinas replied with a tearful smile.

“Then go back and rest. Don’t wander off,” Shiloh said, pushing him back into the room. “Most people have left, but some stubborn ones are still hanging around. I just managed to persuade them to leave, and I’m exhausted. Do me a favor and don’t add to my workload.”

Aquinas had no choice but to be pushed back. As he walked, he noticed Shiloh’s hands were slightly scraped, and his robe was noticeably wrinkled, causing his eyelids to twitch.

If the smooth-talking “shopkeeper” was an evil curse master, then the rest were ruthless fighters, including this boy who still looked like a kid. Aquinas had seen him punch a troublemaker twice his weight, sending him flying with bloody teeth scattered everywhere, giving him nightmares for a whole night.

“I just wanted to take a walk,” Aquinas weakly explained.

Shiloh thought for a moment. “I’ll go with you then, to protect you. The shopkeeper said you’re an important role, and if something happens to you while we still need you, it’ll be a hassle.”

“No need,” Aquinas said feebly. “Maybe tomorrow morning. You should rest early too. Good night.”

Shiloh stood there, watching as Aquinas awkwardly closed the door, then shrugged and pulled out an apple, sitting down to eat.

Aquinas could hear Shiloh’s loud, crisp chewing through the door, making him feel a chill in his heart.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 155

No one could answer that question.

Jason had a lot he wanted to say. For example, neither the Wolf nor the Monkey Families were to be trifled with. Even if the two men who were captured withstood torture without betraying them, Bravi and the others present at the time would eventually trace the clues back to them. Moreover, their reckless behavior this time didn’t just affect themselves. It could potentially lead to a major reshuffle of workers in the nearby district, forcing many to lose their jobs. More practically, their current hideout in this abandoned cellar wasn’t as safe as they imagined. It was quite possible that before the auction ended and the ships left the harbor, they might be awakened by a sudden pounding on the door, with armed men standing outside ready to take them away for punishment.

No, this time, with members of the Wolf family injured, the perpetrators would likely pay with their lives.

If they died for this reason, their names wouldn’t even be recorded on the death list, let alone receive any compensation. It would be as if they had lived in vain.

But Jason couldn’t bring himself to say these things. He didn’t want to make these poor men despair. Just as Peter and his companions, despite being on the run and paranoid, recognized Jason and unhesitatingly brought him to their hideout and laid everything out for him, Jason also felt a deep sympathy and regret for them.

This was a natural bond and trust among the people of Paradise Island. Such feelings might usually be overshadowed by the conflicts between Aquinas’s sect, Jason’s Brotherhood, and the merchants’ guild, but once external conflicts outweighed internal ones, a surprising sense of unity would emerge, like rocks revealed as the tide receded.

“Do you really want to leave White Bridge?” Jason asked. “Why not return to Paradise Island? Even the oldest elders there can’t fully explain all the secret paths. Even if the Wolf and Monkey Families do hold their noses and search, everyone would help cover for you.”

“How long would they search?” The man, who had been tending to the injured, spoke in a muffled voice. “We’re like rats, but we can’t survive on scraps from the sewers. Our families don’t have extra food to support us while we hide.”

Jason was silent.

“People like us can’t survive in White Bridge,” Luke said sadly. “This was always destined to be the case. Our ancestors preferred to live half-dead rather than open their eyes and admit it. We have no right to criticize them. If it weren’t for this trouble…”

If it weren’t for this trouble, which turned long-standing self-deceptive fantasies into an inescapable reality.

“You should come with us,” Peter said. “You’re a capable man, Jason. You’re brave and upright, and everyone respects you. Someone like you should accomplish great things. Don’t you wonder what the world outside White Bridge is like?”

“Of course, I’ve thought about it,” Jason admitted. “But if I leave, what about my brother and friends? What about the brothers in the Brotherhood? Sure, they could come with me. Strong men won’t starve anywhere, but what about the elderly, women, and children in their families?”

As a leader of sorts, Jason was used to thinking further ahead than others. He had even pondered Peter’s question on his own: What was White Bridge like originally? Was it divided into Paradise Island and the inner city from the start? Who decided which area belonged to whom?

Unfortunately, the poor had no right to write or learn history. All they could do was accept their fate. But then again, if Jason were content to accept everything, he wouldn’t have asked Eugene to teach him to read and write.

Deep down, he always had doubts. If given the chance, even a small one, he wanted to see the world from the perspective of the inner city, to see if it was the same as what their ancestors had seen.

“Then we can go find a new place,” Luke said excitedly. “We can find a secluded spot, search for water sources, cultivate the land, and if we establish ourselves, we can gradually bring everyone out.”

This idea wasn’t sudden. Everyone was nodding.

“Once we all leave, let those lords fend for themselves! Let them clean their own shoes, milk their own cows, and feed their own horses!” He clenched his fist. “They’re actually just rich wastrels who can’t even drive a carriage. They can’t survive on their own.”

Only Jason remained level-headed. As their thoughts ran wild, he brought them back to reality. “You need to think about how to hide until the auction ends. Where will you get food and water? Even if you tough it out for a few days, there’s no guarantee this place won’t be discovered.”

Peter and the others fell silent. Luke pleaded with Jason, “If you won’t leave with us, can you help keep watch? Peter risked getting supplies, but we can’t guarantee he won’t run into someone next time. And we should stay inside. I know this kind of case is usually handled by Bravi’s top enforcer, a very capable man. He never leaves a clue behind—two years ago, he uncovered the Black Hawk captain’s embezzlement just from a broken wine barrel.”

Jason was startled. “Are you sure?”

Luke nodded. “My brother told me back then but warned me not to spread it. You all saw it—the captain and ship’s doctor were hanged on the mast, starved to death, their bodies turned to mummies before being taken down.” They rarely dealt with big figures, but whenever something major happened in the inner city, Paradise Island would hear the gossip. The shock from that event was intense. No one in White Bridge hadn’t heard of it.

Jason, who worked at the docks, certainly knew about it. The sight of those long-hung bodies terrified many sailors. For a long time, many captains looked sickly.

“If it’s him, it’s definitely not good,” Jason said solemnly. “Stay put. I’ll try to find out more.” This was a risky promise. If caught, Jason could be considered an accomplice. But his inherent sense of duty and protection wouldn’t let him ignore their plight.

……

Alexander hesitated before knocking on Louis’s study door. This was rare. They had worked closely for years, more closely than others, but since returning from Fortuna City, Louis had changed. It wasn’t that his appearance or behavior seemed off, but he seemed to be plotting something, and Alexander was entirely excluded.

He had no right to interfere with Louis’s plans, but as his first deputy for many years, handling communication and orders, being left out felt unsettling.

Louis was waiting behind his desk. Seeing Alexander enter with a stack of documents, he put down his pen.

“Is it done?” he asked.

Alexander nodded, carefully placing the documents on the desk. “Time was tight. There might be omissions.”

That was unavoidable. The Wolf family had a strict hierarchy and a large population. No previous head had ever thought of making a comprehensive list. Family genealogies existed, but collecting them last minute was challenging. Including all illegitimate children added to the workload, but Alexander did his best.

“This wasn’t our task. You’ve done well,” Louis said, flipping through a list casually. “Where did these come from?”

“I bothered Mr. Cameron’s secretary, Terry, all night, begging for the records of newborns receiving blessings from relevant years. Fortunately, he was up for a meeting tonight and hadn’t slept either,” Alexander explained. “There might be gaps.”

The newborn blessing was a Wolf Family tradition, symbolizing encouragement of birth to strengthen the family and welcoming newborns. The number was neither large nor small, with more symbolic than practical significance, always handled by Cameron.

“Gaps are fine,” Louis said, putting the list back. “It’s just to report back.”

Alexander hesitated but couldn’t hold back. “What does Lord Khalif want with this list, sir?”

He knew Louis’s nature. If he felt Alexander should know something, he would tell him without being asked. Asking without being told was somewhat tactless. But he had been uneasy for days, and the continuous overtime had frayed his nerves. If he didn’t ask now, he might explode.

Louis wasn’t surprised by the question. The Holy Grail wasn’t a secret within the family, but Khalif’s assignment to Louis was due not only to his swift decisiveness but also his reticence and being the only high-ranking member not fond of factions. Clearly, that old coot didn’t want too much attention on this matter.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he said.

“But—” Alexander didn’t finish his thought.

Louis, not waiting for him to continue, asked for updates on the warehouse fire and Adan’s attack.

Alexander struggled to catch his breath. “I just looked up from the blessing records to bring these to you. These sensitive things can’t be handed off to others. Do you think I have three heads?”

“Khalif wouldn’t be as lenient as I am,” Louis said. “Every time he meets, he’s like a debt collector.”

Alexander pretended not to hear the clear disrespect. “I’ll check on the warehouse later, but wasn’t it you who checked on Mr. Adan?”

“I told you the result. You need to write the report,” Louis said coldly.

Alexander laughed in exasperation. “Why write a report? You yourself said it’s unlikely anyone, but the Lion Family had such skill.”

“That was just a guess,” Louis said. “Other possibilities exist.”

“Malicious guests? Unlikely but not impossible,” Alexander admitted. “Fine, I’ll include that.”

“Just guests?” Louis asked.

Alexander froze. “Are you implying it could be internal? Such an accusation without evidence…”

“Don’t write it down. I’m just speculating,” Louis said, leaning back and looking at the loyal assistant he’d worked with for years. “Alexander, I remember Fahim arranged the same lessons for you as me.”

“Yes. I’m not as smart, started later, and always struggled,” Alexander replied, unsure why Louis brought this up.

“But you worked hard,” Louis said. “There was one course some Elders opposed you taking, but Fahim insisted. You even complained about having one less course. Remember?”

“That’s because I didn’t know how expensive hiring a teacher was,” Alexander said. “Of course, I remember. They said I wasn’t qualified to learn history.”

“Why?”

Alexander frowned. “Why? They think people from Paradise Island aren’t fit to learn anything, right?”

“No. They didn’t object to you learning arithmetic or grammar, just history,” Louis said. “Because history is against them. White Bridge originally belonged to Paradise Island. The Wolf and Monkey took it. They don’t want Paradise Island remembering that.”

Alexander understood but still didn’t grasp why Louis mentioned it.

“That was long ago,” Alexander said. “Even if memories were passed down, it’s useless. Paradise Island can’t resist, neither then nor now.”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 154

In this dark and cramped space, five or six people were huddled together, resembling a nest of field mice suddenly unearthed.

“Peter, who’s he?” The person sitting at the outermost edge squinted suspiciously. They had lit a few candle stubs—cheap products made from scraps scraped off candleholders and reheated for reuse. These candles were full of impurities, dim, and smoky, making it hard to see clearly.

Peter pushed Jason inside. “Shh—keep it down. Can’t you see who he is? This is Jason!”

This answer immediately stirred the group. One man squeezed through the others. “Jason? Is it really Jason? I’m Luke, from the blue house by the garment factory.”

“It’s you, Luke.” Jason was genuinely surprised this time. He did know this man because his hands were naturally disabled and not very nimble, which made people reluctant to hire him. A few years ago, Luke had sought his help, and Jason personally took him on for a while. Seeing Luke’s diligence, the foreman eventually stopped rejecting him.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked. “Have you been working in the inner city?”

Luke waved his right hand, where a few fingers were fused together, making it look like a strangely shaped lump of flesh, but he didn’t seem to care.

“They? Ha, they wouldn’t give someone like me a job,” Luke said. “I stole Old Blima’s clothes and came in at night—I know where Harvey and the others work. The warehouse district is a bit far from the central area.”

They made room for Jason in the murky, dim air. Inside, someone lay motionless, chest barely moving, almost like a corpse.

“They broke his head. He could talk at first, but now…” A sturdy man curled up in a corner seemed to be watching over him, shaking his head worriedly.

Jason felt a sinking feeling in his chest.

“What happened?” he demanded.

Luke, the most articulate among them, explained everything to Jason in detail. Recently, a list of the dead had spread through Paradise Island, naming those who had died in the past five years. The people on the island still had vivid memories and feelings about those listed. Some refused to accept this news and sought confirmation. They exchanged information through Aquinas’s gatherings and found that the people on the list were indeed dead. Some had even received compensation from the Wolf family.

The problem was that the notices accompanying the compensation were usually brief and cold. Outsiders didn’t want to spend a second longer on the filthy Paradise Island, often throwing down the money and leaving abruptly, forcing the grieving families to process their loss alone. They didn’t dare ask, or feel entitled to ask, how their loved ones had died. Long treated like silent livestock, the people of Paradise Island weren’t even sure they had the right to question. Until a few days ago, their whispered queries in the dead of night suddenly found answers.

Though disabled, Luke had a very clever brother who, imitating adults from a young age, spoke sweetly and became a mediator between Paradise Island and the inner city. Many found work in the inner city through him. Because of this, even though Luke had never been to the inner city, he knew the areas his brother frequented, as did Peter and others who entered the inner city through his brother.

“Four months ago, he brought in two young men and never returned. Everyone said he was taken in by a rich boss and living the high life inside,” Luke said bitterly. “But he was actually dead—someone told me he did nothing wrong but saw evidence of someone else’s affair on his way home. To keep their secret, the couple beat him to death!”

Luke’s family didn’t even receive compensation, nor did they hear of his death, simply because one of the illicit lovers was from the Monkey Family. To avoid implicating another family, the Wolf chose silence.

Luke, who had always felt inferior due to his disability, took great pride in his clever brother, the family’s hope. When he heard of his brother’s death, he was sleepless all night. Before dawn, he stole clothes and entered the inner city, where he met the recently dismissed Peter and his companions. Coincidentally, Peter had also gotten his dock worker job through Luke’s brother. They had been cautious and hardworking but were dismissed by Bravi for their “unpleasant accents”.

Already disgruntled, Peter and the others, upon hearing Luke’s story, were incensed. In a moment of impulse, they set a fire in the warehouse corner, intending only to cause some financial loss. But the fire spread uncontrollably. As they fled, they were spotted by Bravi’s lackeys. A scuffle ensued. A few managed to escape before the firefighters arrived, but two were captured, and one was severely injured, now on the brink of death.

They couldn’t stay in the inner city, nor could they return to Paradise Island and risk bringing trouble to their families. They had no choice but to break into an empty house and hide in its cellar.

After listening to their story, Jason’s face turned red with anger and then pale. He wanted to shout at them for their foolishness but restrained himself, thinking of Luke’s brother and the other dead.

Sensing Jason’s thoughts, Luke stiffened his neck. “I know it was reckless, but I don’t regret it. Who knows if Bravi was the one who killed my brother to hide his affair? Even if not, he’s no good.”

Peter and the others, though scared and regretful, agreed. They held deep resentment towards Bravi, who had tormented them on his rare visits to the warehouse. Once, in a fit of anger, he stomped on a worker’s fingers with his heel, breaking them, then dismissed him for his “shrill screams”.

“Do you think staying away will prevent trouble for your families?” Jason asked patiently. “They’ll track you down—”

“They might not,” Peter interjected. “We all got jobs through Luke’s brother. With him dead, Bravi and his men don’t even know our names.” In the warehouse, they were called “hey” or “that one”.

“We’ve planned it out. After the auction, many ships will leave. We’ll sneak aboard, and even if we’re thrown overboard, it’s better than being caught by Bravi.”

Jason, forgetting about his clean clothes, sat down on the dusty floor, feeling both shocked and saddened.

“Why…” He could barely speak. “Why would you rather risk this than return? Paradise Island is poor, but you can survive with effort.”

“No, we can’t survive there!” The men exclaimed. “This is the best time for us—young, strong, and healthy. But look at us. Even Bravi’s dogs live better than we do!”

Luke sneered. “If they wanted, many would willingly be their pets.” Rich people, bored with cats, dogs, and horses, sought more thrills, like keeping wild beasts or snakes. Luke’s brother once told him of a high-ranking person who built a two-story structure in his home to keep beautiful people. No one else but the owner existed there. The young men and women were naked, unable to stand or speak, treated as pets. Periodically, “aged” pets were discarded, their bodies bearing scars, but even the guards were indifferent.

Jason felt uneasy hearing this, not for any other reason but because his brother Jim had once told him that a young master liked him and promoted him to a personal valet. Though it restricted his time, it improved his living conditions.

Jason absolutely believed Jim wouldn’t sell his soul for luxury, but the scariest part of the inner city was that people like them often had no choice.

The example of Luke’s brother, dead for so long without his family knowing, deeply unsettled him.

Today, Jason had found the Green Shade Villa and met Jim’s friend, but the friend couldn’t say where Jim had been transferred. He seemed even more anxious than Jason, who ended up comforting him.

Jason hadn’t lied to Eugene. That introverted big guy did reveal more: Jim’s recent “fall from favor” was true. The young master was getting married, and while building a relationship with his fiancée, Jim, who had consumed much of the master’s attention, became a target. Marriage was more important, so Jim was discarded, returning to his original post—the master, thinking himself magnanimous, believed sending him back without harming him was generous. But they had no idea the cold looks and potential revenge Jim faced, having briefly risen and then fallen again, made his life very difficult.

At that moment, the man on the floor groaned weakly, startling everyone. They looked at him worriedly, but he made no further sound. The closest person patted him gently, but there was no response.

“He’s dying,” Luke said sadly.

Peter’s basket contained some cloth for bandages, but these were useless. Even if they were free, they didn’t know where to find a doctor, nor could they afford one.

Silence fell. Outside, the wind seemed to rise, shaking the cellar door without loosening it. The candle stubs burned low, the light dimming further.

Even this old, cramped, dusty cellar was better than many houses on Paradise Island, where some couldn’t find enough wood or stones and had to use leaves and grass to make shelters. With luck, only half would collapse in the wind or rain. With bad luck, the whole structure would fall apart.

If Jim hadn’t gone to the inner city, the two brothers wouldn’t have even had enough space to sleep at home—Jason was tall, and Jim wasn’t short either. Both at home meant there was no room to lie down.

“Why is it like this?” Peter’s voice broke the silence. He spoke softly, as if to himself, but everyone could hear him. “What did we do to deserve being born into this world like this? If the gods are always watching the continent, how do they decide who’s born rich and who’s destined to be poor?”

---

The author has something to say:

Cellar uprising (no).

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 153

His usual indifferent attitude clearly displeased Khalif, so it was only natural that he was excluded from assisting Khalif with the auction. Another Elder who was excluded was Arthur, who was always in charge of external trade. Meanwhile, Azman, who was responsible for public relations, and Cameron, who handled internal affairs, were granted permission to assist. After the meeting, they were to head to Adan’s office to urgently take over all arrangements for the following morning (nobody mentioned any concern for Adan’s current condition).

Charlie didn’t care about this arrangement at all—he was sure Louis wouldn’t be interested in the auction either. If anything, he was more surprised that even at this point, Khalif and the Wolf higher-ups hadn’t shown any interest in delving deeper into these two unusual incidents.

Maybe they thought it was Louis’s responsibility and not their concern, but while the White Bridge auction wasn’t always perfectly smooth, the few crises it faced were mainly external. Never had there been a situation like now that directly threatened the upper echelons.

So they hastily called a meeting in the middle of the night to discuss calming measures for the important guests, usually attended to directly by Adan, yet no one mentioned the dockworkers who started the fire.

If not for the timing, Charlie would have laughed out loud—in the mocking way the Duke often did.

Such arrogance—they seemed to believe that only entities as large as the Lion Family (or larger) could be worthy opponents. Yet, they didn’t want to directly confront the Lion representatives, instead whispering about collaborating with the Monkeys, even suggesting they use some untraceable witchcraft to deal with them without leaving evidence.

Although Charlie had a lingering fear of the Lion family, he could objectively analyze their upper management style. If Vasilia heard about these midnight plots, she might laugh out loud and ask since when did the Wolves assimilated with the Monkeys. This kind of method was only used by old, cowardly tortoises who feared death.

Khalif wasn’t like this before. During the days when Charlie was constantly thinking up ways to escape and wander the streets, Fahim often spoke to the twins about this decisive man. At that time, the White Wolf’s evaluation of him was: “Narrow-minded, occasionally impulsive and reckless, but shrewd, with both ambition and strength.” This was rare praise from Fahim, who held himself in high regard. It’s hard to imagine what expression he would have now if he saw the current Khalif.

The conference room was brightly lit. Charlie discreetly observed Khalif for a moment, sensing that he didn’t show the fatigue and decline in physical strength that Louis and other reports mentioned. It was already past midnight, yet as a man working overnight, he appeared more focused and energetic than Azman, who had prominent dark circles and had stifled several yawns, mistakenly thinking no one noticed, unaware that his tear-streaked eyes and drooping eyelids had already betrayed him.

Khalif was also displeased with his state and sternly ordered him to “wash his face properly” before proceeding. Arthur and Cameron had already left their seats and exited the conference room.

Azman wanted to say a few more words to Khalif but was waved away impatiently. Before leaving, he glanced at Louis, who was still sitting steadily, with a peculiar look, seemingly mocking his lack of tact.

Charlie didn’t look at him, only turning to Khalif after everyone else had left. This was his second face-to-face encounter with Khalif. The anger previously on the family leader’s face had vanished, replaced by a remarkably calm expression.

It seemed the exhilaration from the astrologer’s good news had cooled down, Charlie thought.

“How is the list collection going?” Khalif asked.

“My assistant is still working on it,” Charlie replied humbly. “It needs some time.”

“Recall everyone on the list from outside White Bridge,” Khalif immediately ordered. “Everyone. Including those nameless, faceless bastards and disowned traitors. If anyone dares to resist, break their knees and drag them back—but make sure they’re alive.”

Charlie’s heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t show any emotion. He just nodded lightly. “Understood.”

“Remember my words. Bring the list to that side at dawn. I’ll be waiting,” Khalif said in a low voice. “Also, any assassins who attacked Adan, whoever they are, should not leave White Bridge alive.”

With that, he leaned back in his chair, his right hand caressing the large ruby ring on his left index finger, signaling the end of the conversation.

Louis had mentioned this gesture—leaning back indicated Khalif had decided to end the talk, and caressing the ring meant the person in front of him should immediately shut up and leave without another word.

Charlie had to persuade Louis to let him attend this meeting in his place, so he didn’t want to cause any trouble. Following his brother’s usual practice, he left the table. As his hand reached the doorknob, Khalif suddenly asked from behind, “How is the Countess of Mokwen?”

The question was quite abrupt. Charlie withdrew his hand and turned halfway, showing a slightly puzzled expression.

“She’s doing well,” Charlie said. “She’s being treated with the highest standards. To my knowledge, her main goal isn’t the auction but to meet the astrologer, Kurt. I’ve submitted a report on this.”

“I don’t think she needs an astrologer, not if this noble lady is paying attention to the war reports from her homeland,” Khalif said ambiguously. “I remember she’s pregnant—she should be more cautious.”

Charlie didn’t respond this time and just nodded. Seeing Khalif caressing the ring again, he decisively opened the door and walked out.

The conference room was located deep on the first floor of the mansion. As Charlie walked quickly towards the main door, he suddenly felt a gaze prickling the back of his neck. Turning his head, he saw Xanye in a nightgown standing on the stairs, looking down at him.

“Hello, Louis.” Her voice was a bit dreamy, as if she hadn’t fully woken up.

Charlie ignored her and walked out the main door. Outside, only his black carriage remained. The other Elders had already left.

Before getting into the carriage, he looked back once more and saw someone in a room on the second floor quickly drawing the curtains.

Could it be Prima… Charlie thought, deciding it wasn’t the best time to visit her—although their conversation had been brief, Prima’s state wasn’t quite right. The experienced shopkeeper had noticed her reaction upon seeing his face (or rather, Louis’s face).

The surprise of encountering him, mixed with the subconscious urge to check her attire, was a reaction only someone seeing their beloved would have.

“Playboy.” Charlie chuckled softly, heading to the carriage.

“Sir, to the office or back to rest?” the driver asked respectfully.

“To Cross Street in the Western District,” Charlie said without hesitation.

It was one of the closest places in the inner city to Paradise Island.

……

Jason stopped in front of a women’s shoe store that had already turned off its lights.

It was his second time passing by this store. Over the past few days, he had learned some common words from Eugene and happened to recognize the word “moon” in the store’s name, “Pure White Moon”, confirming that he had indeed gone the wrong way.

The inner city was too big and divided into several districts, making it exhausting to navigate on foot without a carriage, unlike Paradise Island, with its countless paths and shortcuts. Added by tonight, something seemed to have happened, as some areas were cordoned off. Jason didn’t want to cause trouble and took a detour, resulting in him losing his sense of direction.

If this continued, he would waste more time wandering in circles. Jason sat down on a raised pavement brick, but barely had he caught his breath before jumping up as if pricked by a wild porcupine—he couldn’t afford to dirty the decent clothes Eugene had lent him, which were essential for walking through the inner city without being driven away as a vagrant.

Fortunately, the streetlights were bright. He twisted his body to check his pants’ reflection in the shop window, trying to see if any irremediable stains had appeared. In the reflection, he saw a figure quickly walking past on the opposite street.

Jason turned sharply and, without much thought, gave chase—at this time of night, anyone still walking the streets was likely a low-status worker, making them a suitable person to ask for directions.

“Hey!” Jason was fast and quickly caught up, but his loud voice startled the person, causing them to drop what they were carrying.

“Sorry, sorry.” Jason hurriedly picked up the basket, but the bread and apples inside rolled out. He quickly grabbed an apple about to roll into the drain, feeling quite embarrassed.

The person took a step back, looking ready to run, but seemed reluctant to abandon their things and stayed put, though silently.

“Here you go…” Jason tried to soften his voice. “I just want to ask for directions. Where am I?”

“Bovington Street,” the hoarse voice replied, seeming to realize Jason wasn’t a threat.

Jason paused, realizing the street name was useless to him, so he had to press on, “Which direction to Paradise Island?”

The person took the basket from him and studied him for a moment. “You want to go to Paradise Island?”

Before Jason could think of an excuse, the person stepped forward. “Jason? Are you Jason?”

“Who are you?” Jason scrutinized the person—long face, wide nose, with two scars, one long and one short, giving him distinctive features. He didn’t recall knowing anyone like that.

“I’m Peter!” the man said urgently, his voice even raspier. “I thought I mistook you—wearing clothes like that! What are you doing here? Come with me.”

Jason, as the head of the Brotherhood, knew at least five Peters, none matching this one. But he didn’t resist, letting himself be pulled along to another street because, under the streetlight, he had seen the man’s face clearly. Despite the clean, simple clothes and a face free of the sunken, sallow look of long-term malnutrition, Jason still sensed the aura of the lower class. Plus, calling out his name so confidently suggested this Peter was also from Paradise Island.

Even if he was wrong, two more Peters as skinny as this one wouldn’t be able to beat Jason, so he wasn’t worried.

Peter, however, was quite flustered, occasionally looking back nervously to check for followers. After taking two turns on a relatively quiet street, he led Jason into the yard of a row of townhouses. The garden was surprisingly small, with a half-submerged door resembling a storm cellar, but even smaller, like an underground storage room.

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The author has something to say:

Khalif asking about Priscilla was because he was always aware of Lestrop’s experiment. Although he sought cooperation to some extent, Khalif hid the crucial bloodline condition, essentially deceiving the Mokwen royalty. He didn’t want to break this matter and make enemies, which is why Priscilla never got to meet Kurt.

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