n

n

n146 Turf

nCharlie was dumbstruck and answered subconsciously, “No problem.”

nOnly when Lumian laid out the 50 verl d’or notes did he snap back to reality. He cautiously peeked out the door.

nThe evening light was fading, and unlike the second floor, the fifth floor had large balconies on both sides, casting deep shadows. It was as if night had already descended.

nSeeing the corridor empty, Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. He lowered his voice and asked Lumian, “You conned someone into buying the fake necklace for 1,000 verl d’or?”

n“You’ve got two things wrong.” Lumian grinned and handed the stack of 50 verl d’or notes to Charlie. “First, I didn’t con just any person.”

n“Then who?” Charlie questioned, puzzled as he instinctively took the mix of 1 and 5 verl d’or notes.

nLumian’s grin broadened.

n“The Savoie Mob.”

nHearing this, Charlie nearly dropped the banknotes in his hand.

nHe stared at Lumian in terror and blurted, “Are you insane?

n“They kill people. Folks go missing all the time on Rue Anarchie!”

nLumian smirked and replied, “Second, it wasn’t a con.”

n“What?” Charlie couldn’t follow Lumian’s logic.

nLumian clarified, still smiling, “They knew the necklace was a fake, yet they still forked over 1,000 verl d’or.”

nImpossible, Charlie thought, certain it was a joke.

nThe Savoie Mob might be ruthless, but they weren’t idiots. Why would they pay 1,000 verl d’or for a fake necklace worth only 50 verl d’or?

nThen, a wild thought crossed Charlie’s mind.

n“You didn’t steal the leadership from the Savoie Mob, did you?”

nThat would be even more insane!

nLumian smirked again.

n“Relax. Baron Brignais and I reached an agreement through a friendly conversation.

n“Don’t worry. There won’t be any trouble in the future.

n“So, do you want the 50 verl d’or or not?”

nConsidering his own financial situation, he took the 50 verl d’or and muttered,

n“Thank you.”

nLumian nodded with a smile and turned to go.

nIn that instant, Charlie grasped the whole picture and blurted out, “Did you join the Savoie Mob?”

nLumian didn’t turn around. He waved his hand and replied, “That’s right.”

nCharlie opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He watched Lumian’s silhouette vanish into the darkness outside and disappear down the shadowy staircase.

n…

nUpon returning to Room 207, Lumian, fresh out of his disguise and ready to hunt for a tasty meal, caught a familiar curse coming from the fourth floor.

n“If you think this money is easy, you can lie down and earn it yourself!”

n“Useless coward. A dickless wretch; all you dare to do is bully women!”

n“Send your mother to me if you dare!”

n“…”

nLumian listened for a few seconds and quickly deduced that Wilson from the Poison Spur Mob had come to Ethans with his crew to collect “protection money.”

nA grin spread across his face.

nIn the next instant, Lumian donned a dark-blue cap, left Room 207, and made his way to the fourth floor.

nBefore he could reach Room 408, he heard the sharp crack of a slap followed by Ethans’s even more vehement cursing and struggle.

nThe tenants on this floor shut their wooden doors tight, not daring to step out.

nWith one hand in his pocket, Lumian arrived outside Room 408. The first thing he noticed was the presence of two goons.

nThey were clad in dark jackets, blocking the doorway.

nAt this moment, Ethans’s curses blended with sobs and screams.

n“You sons of bitches!

n“I curse you!

n“I’ll rip off your dicks!”

nLumian raised an eyebrow and approached the two thugs at the door.

n“What do you want?” one of them barked.

nLumian didn’t reply. Instead, he took a sudden step forward, reaching out to grab them.

nHis movements were so swift that he had the two thugs by the back of their heads before they could react.

nLumian applied force, slamming their skulls together.

nWith a sickening thud, their foreheads bulged, eyes rolled back, and they crumpled to the ground.

nAs they “cleared the way,” Lumian glimpsed the scene inside the room.

nEthans, her flaxen hair and delicate features in disarray, lay on the bed. Her dress was torn, her face visibly bruised and swollen. Wilson, his curly brown hair and deeply creased face sneering, was pocketing a stack of banknotes. His belt unbuckled, another thug was holding Ethans down.

nSensing the disturbance at the door, the Poison Spur Mob leader swiftly reached for his belt and glanced outside.

nThere he saw Lumian, casually wiping his hands and stepping over his two fallen comrades.

nNot giving Wilson a chance to speak, Lumian grinned and said, “Didn’t anyone tell you that Auberge du Coq Doré is now under the Savoie Mob’s protection…”

nMid-sentence, he lunged forward, throwing a punch before Wilson could fasten his belt.

nWilson hastily dodged and buckled his belt.

nSimultaneously, his eyes narrowed as they locked onto Lumian.

nLumian suddenly felt a wave of fear.

nIt was the unbridled fear of an ordinary person facing a villain or a thug. Wilson had manifested such emotions!

nYet, even as an ordinary person, Lumian wasn’t cowed by villains who wouldn’t dare to fight back. As a vagrant, he had always believed in fleeing and surrendering if possible. If not, he’d drag the other party down with him. Now, as a Sequence 8 Beyonder, he was even more fearless.

nAnother Beyonder? Lumian harnessed the intensity of his fear to grapple with Wilson and unleash his close-quarters combat skills.

nHis hands, elbows, knees, and feet transformed into weapons, overpowering Wilson, who had barely buckled his belt.

nAs the sounds of their struggle filled the air, another thug sprang into action. He grabbed a chair in the room, poised to smash it into Lumian’s back.

nBut Lumian twisted his upper body like a serpent, circling behind Wilson.

nBang! The chair struck Wilson’s head, sending him reeling.

nWith a crash, the already unstable chair splintered.

nLumian coiled his body like a spring and lifted his right leg.

nHis heel struck the thug’s lower abdomen with pinpoint accuracy, eliciting a muffled groan.

nThe thug’s eyes bulged as he clutched his crotch and crumpled to the floor. He writhed in pain but couldn’t make a sound, like a rooster with its neck throttled.

nAs Lumian’s right foot swung back, his arm lashed forward, whipping Wilson’s chest.

nUnable to dodge, Wilson heard the crack of his ribs breaking.

nBefore he could recover from the pain, Lumian seized his arms and yanked him closer.

nPfft!

nA knee to the chest greeted him.

nWilson’s face paled, and his body doubled over.

nLumian clenched his fists and hammered Wilson’s back.

nPlop! Wilson collapsed to the ground.

nLumian capitalized on the opportunity, pouncing on him. He pinned Wilson’s arms behind his back and pressed his knees into his spine.

n“I thought you were quite the tough guy,” Lumian taunted. “Turns out, you couldn’t even last ten seconds.”

nBased on his assessment, Wilson was only at Sequence 9, a Sequence that focused more on combat and physical enhancement. However, he wasn’t sure which pathway he belonged to.

nWilson, provoked and enraged, struggled with all his might but couldn’t break free from Lumian’s grip.

nLumian glanced up at the dumbstruck Ethans and chuckled at Wilson and the incapacitated thugs.

n“Go back and tell your bosses that this is Ciel’s turf. If you’ve got any business, feel free to look for our Savoie Mob!”

n“You’re a dead man!” Wilson snarled.

nLumian smirked, retorting, “I’m not sure if I’ll die, but you’re the one dying now.”

n“You dare to kill me in front of so many witnesses?” Wilson mocked.

nLumian said nothing. He tightened his grip, and a sickening crack echoed in the room.

nWilson let out a spine-chilling scream, beads of cold sweat the size of beans breaking out on his forehead.

nHis arm was broken!

nLumian hoisted him up and leaped onto Ethans’s wooden table. He pushed open the window and dangled Wilson over the outer wall.

nGlancing down at the deserted alley, Lumian smiled at Wilson and taunted, “Try guessing. Do you think I dare to throw you down?”

nWilson stared at the cobblestones more than ten meters below and recalled how resolute the other party had been when he said he’d break his arm. For a moment, he didn’t dare answer.

nJust then, Lumian released his grip.

nI haven’t answered yet! Wilson’s body plunged downward in sheer terror.

nWith no other option, he desperately tried to adjust his posture to protect his vitals.

nCrash!

nHe hit the ground with a sickening thud, his flesh instantly mangled in multiple places.

nLumian observed for a couple of seconds before chuckling.

n“Quite a tough one. You’re still alive. Is your nickname Rue Anarchie Cockroach?”

nIgnoring Wilson, he jumped off the wooden table and addressed the three thugs struggling to their feet, “Did you hear what I just said?”

nThe three thugs nodded fearfully and turned to flee.

n“Wait,” Lumian called out to them.

nThe three thugs froze on the spot, their bodies trembling slightly.

nLumian gestured at the shattered chair and grinned.

n“Aren’t you going to compensate for the damage?”

nThe three thugs hastily pulled out all the banknotes they had and tossed them on the floor.

nWith Lumian’s nod of approval, they stumbled out of Room 408.

nEthans stared blankly the entire time, only recalling the words that this place had been taken over by the Savoie Mob.

nThen, she realized that Ciel from the Savoie Mob hadn’t informed her about how much she should pay or how often she should pay in the future. He didn’t even glance at her as he walked straight to the door.

nEthans instinctively opened her mouth, wanting to ask something, but she hesitated, fearing the Poison Spur Mob might retaliate. She watched Lumian’s figure vanish into the darkness beyond the door.

n