Chapter 121: The Assassin
The wound disappeared, but the pain did not dissipate immediately. The shock gradually faded, and the panic engraved in biological instinct surged, filling the muscles with stiffness and astringency. Oliver knew in his heart that after just paying a huge sum of money, this group of peopleâ perhaps the âGatekeepersâ according to Micahâ would only use him to make an example and wouldnât kill him so easily.
But suffering without death was never a pleasant experience.
The cold and severe pain left by the steel needle was still throbbing in his internal organs. The continuous loss of strength made breathing a tiring task. Oliver took small breaths, inserted his fingertips wrapped in his armor into the soil under his feet, and successfully stood up after about five minutes.
He had to look for other opportunities. Oliver thought for a while and decisively excluded any negative thoughts. At the moment, he could only rely on himself to find a way out and couldnât let himself be eroded by loss and frustration. After all, the chance of escaping was already slim. He needed to adjust.
It wasnât like he couldnât understand Micahâs thoughts. Oliver raised his head with difficulty and looked ahead, but unfortunately, the team had already moved forward for a while, and he couldnât find Micahâs figure.
He was a dangerous person with a âhigh priceâ. Let alone acquaintances, they werenât even friends. He wasnât qualified to ask another party to simply trust a stranger wholeheartedly. He just tried to embrace hope, not wanting to leave the desperate person in front him because of this suspicion.
However, this time, fate was not on his side, and he undoubtedly failed. That was the risk he took. Oliver had long passed the age for idealism, so of course he understood this truth.
He understood it well, butâŠ
Oliver tried to swallow his spit. His throat rolled with dry pain, mixed with sad emotions. He thought he could accept the result relatively calm, but the pain still gripped his heart.
He leaned on the Rest in Peace and struggled to stand up.
The team walked forward in silence, and there seemed to be two huge carriages at the end. Oliver didnât smell the familiar smell of livestock in the air. Horses didnât emit such a strange smell. From his angle, he couldnât see what was pulling the carriages in front of him, but he was pretty sure it wasnât a horse. The sealed carriage was surrounded by magic array and only had a narrow door.
The prisoners were divided into two groups, honestly filling into the doorway of the carriage. Although there was only one guard, everything was in order.
Oliver decided to regain his strength first. He stagged along with the group, trying to lift his feet that suddenly weighed more than a thousand pounds. Unfortunately, he still couldnât adapt to this suddenly weak body. Oliverâs left foot softened and he slammed into the person next to him, almost twisting his ankle.
âIâm very sorry,â he whispered, raising his eyes after a few seconds.
He bumped into a man that was about a head taller than him. He had short steel-gray hair standing upright, fierce eyebrows, and fine scars on his face. The manâs figure looked extremely strong, and the muscles on his arms were bulging, as hard as iron. He didnât carry any sharp weapons, just a metal shield that was abnormally large.
The man squinted his eyes and looked at Oliver for a moment without making a sound. When Oliver thought he was about to be beaten, he simply nodded, moved his gaze away from Oliver and looked at the carriage in front of him again.
Oliver breathed a sigh of relief and continued to move his soft legs with difficulty.
When he and the burly man were placed in the same carriage, Oliver guessed the reason. The people in this carriage were not civilians. They had some combat power, and almost all the people who had just shown joy was here while there were no traces of those who were thin and numb.
There were about a hundred people, most of whom stared at the people who came in with a subtle smile on their face.
Oliver wanted to approach the carriage, but the burly man suddenly squeezed him directly into the corner of the carriage. The man unceremoniously blocked his sight and sat down in front of him, leaving only a little room for him to move.
The purpose of that personâs action was obvious. It was definitely intentional.
Oliver curled up his legs and frowned uncomfortably but said nothing. He had no intention of causing disputes since it was unnecessary at this time. Every ounce of strength was precious, and it would be wasted to put towards quarrels.
As the last person entered the carriage, the door of the carriage was closed forcefully, and then there was a soft sound of chain friction outside. The air of the carriage suddenly became muggy and after a few minutes, the floor under their seats began to bump slightly. No one said a word. There was only heavy breathing of dangerous people in the air.
The burly manâs eyes closed slightly, as if he was resting, but Oliver felt there was always a line of sight that was eyeing him.
âYouâŠâ Oliver felt that this wasnât a good sign. He retracted his legs inward and spoke softly.
Before he could spit out half a sentence, the man put his index fingers against his lips and made a cold âshhâ gesture.
Oliver swallowed back what he was about to say and curled up cautiously. He didnât know when this weird silence would end so he closed his eyes and began to quietly test his new collar with his strength.
Two hours later, he finally knew the reason for the silence.
The carriage door opened again, and people were driven out. Oliver moved his sore lower limbs and looked around, but there was nothing in front of him except sparse trees of a woodland. This seemed to be just an ordinary forest⊠Except for the slender black poles that stood silently in the distance under ordinary clouds.
âI think you know what will happen.â the man with a white cloth wrapped around his face said, causing a stir among the crowd. âCongratulations. Youâve been given the opportunity to say goodbye to death.â
âFight. Iâll watch. You must prove your worth, and itâs time to rely on your strength to win status and glory.â He dusted the dirt off his clothes, as if his eyes could see through the white cloth. âThe time limit is three hours, starting now.â
âJust a reminder, do not to cross the border. Donât forget the things around your necks.â
The man shook the magic whip in his hand. After the crackling sound of the whip broke the air, a rushing white arc of light instantly ignited between the black poles. It enclosed the small woodland into an airtight cage.
No. He didnât know what will happen. Oliver stayed in place in a daze. Several hostile and murderous looks had been casted. His body instinctively forced him to draw out his sword and the collar on his neck also stopped the seemingly endless sucking of his power, allowing him to temporarily be liberated.
But he was still at a loss and couldnât squeeze out the slightest hostility.
At this moment, one hand suddenly grabbed the back collar of his armor and Oliver only felt the wind passing by his ears before he ended in a violent impact. He flew far, breaking countless of trees before he landed in a bush.
The burly man followed. His steps were fast and steady, and his momentum was like a galloping chariot. A few hundred meters behind him, people had already begun to fight excitedly. The smell of blood spread in the air, stimulating everyoneâs senses. Oliver subconsciously raised his sword and assumed a blocking posture.
âYou werenât hostile to that mole. You wanted to save him.â The manâs voice was affirmative. He reached out his hand and his face were tight. âNow you still donât want to kill. Coincidentally, so do I. We can cooperate.â
Oliver glanced at the big rough hands, but did not immediately put down the sword, and instead casted back an inquiring look.
âI can see it,â the manâs voice was low and hoarse. âRandy.â He pointed to himself.
âAn assassin,â Randy replied indifferently. Under the fine scars on his face, the corners of the manâs mouth drooped slightly. His lips were tightly compressed, making him always looked like he was in a bad mood. âI will never mistake hostility and murderous intent.â
ââŠâ The corner of Oliverâs mouth twitched while he decided to give himself a few more seconds to think.
âIn addition, a simple question.â The man who claimed to be an assassin was silent for a moment. He put the giant shield on the ground at will, and the heavy shield instantly smashed into the soft soil. âWhat is your relationship with Godwin Lopez? A piece of advice. Youâd better hide this face.â He raised his chin at the crowd fighting in the distance.
âDonât let them notice. Otherwise, youâll meet an ugly death.â
The coordinates given by Virgil was extremely accurate. After taking a few steps, Nemo saw the symbolic sign of the Mercenary Guild. The task of finding Ulyssesâ skull should still be there, and this idea inexplicable surfaced from his chaotic mind.
How wonderful and ironic he thought as he touched his head.
It was just at this moment; he had no interest in guilds and mission. Nemo glanced at the logo and began to look for the nearest transfer station. The transfer station would have a distinctive red spire, which wasnât difficult to locate.
Not so long ago, almost all the members of Tumbleweed stepped into the branch. Ann said she was going to confirm the situation in Alban prison while also trying to get news from the Insular Court through her contacts. Adrian Cross said nothing and stepped directly into the door of the branch. Jesse stuck to him like gum and followed him every step of the way.
Now Nemo wanted to spend more time alone. He was happy to stay outside and take care of the goat.
How long had it been since his companions had stepped into the building? An hour? Maybe two? Nemo clenched the leash of the fuller goat in his hand. The gray parrot was shivering on his shoulder as it tried to reduce its sense of presence.
Nemo couldnât help turning his head to look at Bagelmaurus. At this moment, the gray parrot no longer had those gorgeous and dazzling decoration on its body. It shrank its head and avoided Nemoâs gaze.
This was probably the member in the whole team who was closest to him in essence. Nemo showed a wry smile. Bagelmaurus probably noticed something.
He stretched out his finger and gently poked the feathers on the parrotâs chest. The touch was warm, but the gray parrot shrank tighter.
He was temporarily unable to face his companion bluntly. The guilt of concealing what he knew had snowballed, becoming larger and larger, and finally turned into a cold sense of guilt. Worry, confusion, and anxiety was mixed into a heavy pile, almost crushing him. Nemo wanted to confess, at least just once, to find an outlet for the emotion that was about to burst.
âBagelmaurus,â he said in a low voice. He turned his gaze away and stared at the red spire of the transfer station.
ââŠI can return your powers to you.â
The gray parrot stopped trembling instantly. Its claws loosened as it slid down from Nemoâs shoulders and fell firmly onto the stone brick ground.