Chapter 115: Shall We Sit Down and Talk Now?
Some of the men in black fedoras carried away the petrified Winkler, while others silently surrounded Abyss and his companions.
“You haven’t harmed our men outside, have you?” Givia asked calmly, her gaze fixed on the spoon-wielding man, showing no signs of panic.
The man raised a hand, signaling his men to hold back, then sat down on the table, casually swinging one leg. “Of course not, Miss. I simply used a potion to put them to sleep. We’ll wake them up once this misunderstanding is cleared. Don’t worry, it’s harmless. They might just experience a loss of appetite for a couple of days.”
“What misunderstanding? Who is that Winkler fellow?” Givia asked.
The man chewed on the spoon in his mouth. “Oh, this is beautiful. Winkler didn’t tell you? Haha, I didn’t expect him to. He’s one of my men. I put him in charge of one of my potion warehouses. I just received word that he had been bribed by the Goat Eyes Gang. He was planning to clear out my entire warehouse and split the profits with them. If you had made your decision a bit faster, he might have already escaped the city with the money.”
Santos felt a pang of guilt. As a general, he shouldn’t have made such a careless mistake. But he had been desperate, seeking a quick solution to the princess’s nightmare problem, and had contacted a deceitful con artist.
The gang members continued to close in. Santos and the guards readied their weapons, prepared to fight these thugs. Leona, although seemingly calm, was ready to unleash her power.
“Alright, boys, take them away. But be gentle with the ladies,” the spoon-wielding man said, seemingly losing interest in the conversation. He hopped off the table and headed towards the door.
As the thugs advanced, Abyss finally spoke. “Friends, if this is a misunderstanding, why don’t we discuss it here instead of resorting to violence?”
The gang members hesitated.
“Our lady dislikes being treated with such disrespect. Perhaps you could show some courtesy?” Abyss said, his gaze sweeping over them.
The spoon-wielding man, who had reached the door, stopped in his tracks, turning around with an incredulous expression.
“What are you talking about? You’re a group of strangers, foreigners seeking to purchase military-grade potions. Of course I can’t have a friendly chat with you. What if you run away?”
“Do you really think your men can stop us?”
“Hoho, come now, it’s just a precaution. If there’s no problem, we’ll let you leave, of course.” The man seemed amused, leaning against the railing of the stairs leading to the ground floor, continuing to direct his men. “Don’t just stand there, grab them. If they resist, use the potions.”
The gang members, losing patience, grinned menacingly, rolling up their sleeves to reveal miniature crossbows strapped to their wrists, loaded with tranquilizer darts.
Abyss remained calm, smiling faintly. He extended a hand towards the thugs.
His hand suddenly contorted, forming a claw. His eyes glowed with white magical light, and with a gesture, one of the gang members was lifted off the ground!
“Ugh… Ugh…” The gang member struggled, his hands clawing at his throat, where a handprint was visibly imprinted.
“I said, our lady dislikes being treated so rudely. Are you deaf?” Abyss’s voice turned cold as he stood up, his hand still gripping the gang member’s throat from afar.
The man gasped for air, his face turning purple.
“What are you doing?!” Another gang member, terrified, pointed his crossbow at Abyss. “Let him go!”
“Put away your pathetic weapon,” Abyss said, his eyes cold and sharp. “Or don’t blame me for not giving you a chance.”
His grip tightened, and the struggling gang member’s movements weakened. His bloodshot eyes bulged, his tongue protruding, as he choked.
Then, Abyss’s hand clenched, a sickening crack echoing through the basement. The gang member’s neck snapped, his head twisted one hundred and eighty degrees. His body slumped to the ground, twitching a few times before going still.
The display of power terrified the gang members. Even the man leaning against the railing stared at Abyss with a mixture of shock and fear.
“You dared kill my man?” he said, his voice strained, but he didn’t dare approach.
“I was merely demonstrating that killing you would be equally effortless,” Abyss said, his smile chilling. “Now, can we talk?”
The man wanted to refuse, but Abyss’s gaze made him reconsider.
Those weren’t the eyes of an ordinary boy. They held an air of dominance and ruthless intent, the kind only seen in those who had witnessed countless deaths. He had initially assumed this gray-haired boy was just an advisor to the busty “Miss Veronica,” but judging by his effortless display of power, he was at least a seventh-tier mage, perhaps even higher!
Fighting a seventh-tier mage surrounded by guards was suicidal!
“This is beautiful… Hey, friend, perhaps we can talk here. I’ve changed my mind,” he said after a long silence, raising his hands in surrender. He pushed past his terrified men, hooked a chair with his foot, and sat down. “I’ll sell you the potions, as long as you offer a fair price. How about that?”
“That’s better,” Abyss said, smiling with satisfaction, sitting back down. “Your Highness, it’s your turn to negotiate.”
Flora stared at Abyss, shocked by his blatant disregard for the necromancer’s creed.
Abyss, sensing her disapproval, glanced at her, winking and flashing a mysterious smile.
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