All things considered, Giant Mickey was a lucky man.
Even at fifty-five years old, he'd been forcibly transported to the Kalim Continent.
And more critically, right from the start he'd received an A-rank talent that was as straightforward as it was powerful — Forceful Plunder.
This talent not only allowed him to pull his subordinates from other districts to his side, one by one.
It also let him forcibly seize their shelters as his own.
It did co with limitations — he could only summon people he personally knew, had t face-to-face, and shared a certain level of "familiarity" with — but for a man of his ambition, that was more than enough.
After all, wasn't the hardest problem in mathematics turning zero into one?
Once he'd learned about his talent, Giant Mickey set his plan in motion.
The clever old fox didn't rush to pull people in right away. Instead, he went out alone to find supply crates for food and water while biding his ti.
He waited two or three days — until people in the district started dying — before making his move.
After all, a population count of 10,001 would easily raise eyebrows, but 9,986? Nobody would think twice.
With a talent that could be used twice a day, he chose to pull people in at night.
That was when everyone inside their shelters was asleep, making the hostile takeover much smoother.
Just like that.
He used his ability to assemble a small squad of about a dozen people.
And using those people, he recruited even more petty thieves and small-ti crooks in the area, swelling his ranks to over fifty in less than a single week.
But he was keenly aware that District 666 was nowhere near as simple as he'd imagined.
After all, by the end of the first day, the district's composition was already common knowledge.
A zone cobbled together from criminals marginalized back on Blue Star — the word "abandoned" really was a fitting description.
And then, in a place like this, soone who could actually craft potions had appeared.
How could he not be overjoyed?
He'd even believed, for a ti, that this was a golden opportunity handed to him by the heavens.
But no matter how many tis he contacted Lan Qingyou, she never replied. Every friend request was imdiately deleted — she didn't take him seriously at all.
That was what had driven him to furiously dispatch his n to track down her shelter's location.
He didn't need much.
Just find where she was, et her once, exchange a few throwaway words — that would be enough to establish "familiarity."
Then that very night, he could pull both her and her shelter right to his doorstep.
At that point, what alchemist wouldn't fall right into his lap and beco the cornerstone of his conquest of the Kalim Continent?
And that chef called Gu Xiaobei and the rchant Shang Chuan — sa story.
He wanted to bring every last one of these talents under his wing.
Then the first Mana Turbulence had co along and destroyed every Level 1 shelter, making his position even more unshakeable.
But then.
While he was still dreaming his grand dreams, Machine Gun Jacksey had stabbed him in the back.
Losing four n in a single ambush was sothing "Godfather" Mickey simply could not tolerate.
And so ca the retaliatory strike against Jacksey and his crew.
"Godfather, Jacksey's group is approaching."
"Good. Tell everyone to get ready."
When a gaggle of n with their pants sagging low appeared on the narrow trail, carrying all manner of weapons, Mickey imdiately gave Manel and the others the signal to move.
"Fuck! It's Mickey's people!"
"We've been ambushed!"
"Attack!"
"Run!"
The mont Manel's crew burst from the bushes and dropped from the trees, Jacksey's group devolved into total chaos.
But Manel's n didn't care. They charged forward with weapons drawn.
In an instant, battle cries erupted across the trail, magic flashing through the air, turning the scene into utter pandemonium.
Mickey, anwhile, stood on a tree branch and watched it all unfold with cold, detached eyes.
Whether it was the street brawls of his youth or the magical combat of today, it was all the sa to Mickey.
Just another fight to the death — nothing more.
So even as severed limbs flew and lives were snuffed out like grass, Mickey didn't so much as furrow a brow.
After about ten minutes, the battle ca to an abrupt end.
Mickey's side had held an overwhelming nurical advantage from the start, and with the added elent of ambush, there was never any real suspense.
At the cost of six of his own, Mickey's forces had wiped out the dozen-plus n Jacksey had brought.
Including Jacksey himself.
"Godfather, it's over."
"Mm."
Surveying the satisfying carnage, Mickey nodded approvingly. For a mont, he felt transported back to the days of his youth, scrapping on the streets of Los Angeles.
'Now this is the life we n of the underworld are ant to live!'
Bang!
Just as Mickey was savoring the mont, a bullet punched clean through his skull, taking him out of this world for good.
"Godfather!"
Watching the sudden sniper shot, Manel let out a scream, panic flooding his face as he lunged forward to catch Mickey's body.
"Manel, bro! Sniper! The sniper's over there!"
But Manel had no intention of giving chase.
"Fall back! Everyone cover — get back to base!"
Hoisting Mickey's corpse, Manel shouted the order and bolted toward Mickey's shelter.
The sniper, clad in a ghillie suit, watched Manel's group retreat before picking up her AWM sniper rifle and slipping away. After a series of twists and turns, she made it back to her own shelter.
Eluel: "Boss, mission complete. Mickey's dead."
Shang Chuan: "Good work. Here's your paynt for the job. Oh, and the mole is yours to deal with — do whatever you want with him."
Eluel: "Boss is generous!"
After receiving five 30 healing potions, Eluel let out a low whistle and fired off her reply.
Shang Chuan, upon seeing the ssage, adjusted his glasses and allowed himself a thin smile.
Shang Chuan was a rchant.
And naturally, a rchant sold whatever fetched the highest price. So what was the most valuable commodity in this otherworld?
Magical tools? Books? Materials? Spells?
Perhaps.
But wherever people existed, conflict followed — and that ant intelligence would inevitably beco one of the most valuable goods of all.
On the very first night after being transported to Kalim, Shang Chuan had already mapped out a clear developnt plan for himself.
And once he'd figured out the kind of crowd he was dealing with in this district, he'd begun recruiting.
When you were forcibly transported, whatever you had on your person ca with you.
Clothes, for instance. Pants. Glasses. And, say — a sniper rifle.
As luck would have it, on his very first day out scouting the area around his shelter, Shang Chuan had personally witnessed Eluel gun down a rabbit with pinpoint precision.
Just like that, Eluel had entered his crosshairs.
Under the guise of a rcenary contract, he'd successfully hired her as the sharpest weapon in his arsenal.
As for whether Mickey was actually dead — all he had to do was check if the na still appeared in the channel. Simple as that.
Impossible to fake.
Eluel: "Boss, I'm running low on ammo."
Shang Chuan: "Don't worry, I'll find soone to make you more."
Eluel: "OK."
Reading Eluel's response, Shang Chuan chuckled softly. Then he opened his friends list, selected a contact, and sent a ssage.
Shang Chuan: "Your request has been fulfilled. Please settle the remaining balance. Perhaps next ti we chat, I should address you as 'Godfather' Manel?"
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