"Get another bottle of fruit wine."
Cast, who had just eaten and drunk his fill, drew a dagger and picked his yellowed teeth with the sharp point, speaking to the waitress in a nonchalant tone, "Put it on my tab."
The tavern waitress hesitated for a mont, then turned her head to look at the owner behind the counter.
The owner looked very displeased but still nodded.
Cast chuckled drunkenly, lifted the bottle, and walked out of the small tavern.
The tavern owner watched his figure disappear, unable to help but spit on the ground, "Bah!"
Cast was originally just a small crook on the street, often doing dirty jobs like stealing and sneaking around, despised by everyone.
No one expected him to join the Jello Brotherhood and suddenly rise in status.
The tavern owner hated him but didn’t dare to do anything to Cast.
Humming an off-key tune, Cast swaggered down the empty street.
The night was deep, with hardly any pedestrians in sight, only so lights shining from the buildings along the street. The howls of stray dogs echoed from the dark alleys, sounding rather eerie.
But Lost was not afraid at all. He looked up at the moon hanging high in the night sky and raised the bottle in his hand.
Whoosh!
In that instant, a gust of wind howled by, a dark object smashed the bottle in Cast’s hand to pieces, and then hit his face!
Cast didn’t have ti to let out a scream; his nose and cheeks suddenly caved in, and shattered glass deeply embedded into his eyes.
The last thing this thug saw was a rapidly spreading blood red!
He involuntarily fell backward, limbs twitching a few tis, and crimson blood spread beneath him.
After a few minutes, several shadowy figures crept out from nearby dark alleys.
They furtively looked around, then quickly dragged Cast’s body into the dark alley!
Soon, there was no sound.
And this entire scene was seen clearly by Ronan, hidden in the shadows at the street corner.
He let out a cold smile, adjusted the hood on his head, and quietly left the street.
The cold moonlight spilled over the serene long street, a few rats crawled out from the sewer, cautiously leaping closer to the bloodstains on the ground.
They began to greedily lick once they confird it was safe.
The death of a gang mber, a societal scum, can also provide nourishnt for even lower life forms.
No one would care about Lost’s disappearance!
The next morning, Ronan clocked in at the Third Police Station as usual.
Then he received so good news and so bad news.
The good news was that Ronan got an opportunity for an independent patrol, the bad news was he had to patrol independently today.
Old Hart, who always accompanied Ronan, accidentally threw out his back last night and needs several days of bed rest. The Third Police Station is very understaffed and can’t assign anyone else to assist Ronan.
Hence, today’s patrol duties were solely his responsibility.
This could add points to his certifying process.
Provided he didn’t screw up.
Additionally, Ronan got permission to carry a sword—the intimidation factor of just a baton was too weak.
"Be careful."
Selina, the police flower of the Third Police Station, specifically reminded, "Blow the whistle imdiately if you’re in danger. Colleagues will co for backup, don’t try to be a hero!"
Because of her few concerned words, Ronan gained so more ’hatred’ from fellow colleagues.
Ronan shrugged helplessly, "I got it."
He could perceive that this beautiful policewoman treated him as a little brother next door.
In fact, in terms of age, appearance, and temperant, Ronan indeed carried a bit of a younger brother’s vibe.
He took a standard-issue Cross Sword and began his patrol duty.
Police patrols had a fixed route, and Ronan had no novel ideas, opting to follow the original path through the district’s streets and alleys.
The Lower City District during the day was bustling, with many pedestrians coming and going.
Rushing local residents, mud-legged farrs from the countryside, traveling rchants with large bags, sturdy-looking samurai...
A burly man caught Ronan’s attention.
The man was nearly two ters tall, standing out like a crane among chickens in the street. He wore a set of worn-out leather armor, carried a large sword and a longbow on his back, leading a steed expressionlessly.
As passersby glimpsed the man, they imdiately avoided him.
Their eyes showed disdain, disgust, and fear, as if he was a plague to be avoided!
Demon Hunting n!
The past mories told Ronan that this man was a Demon Hunter living off hunting monsters.
It is said that Demon Hunters rely on bloodline inheritance, and their lineage is cursed by the Blood Moon, making them extrely ominous entities.
Anyone who gets associated with a Demon Hunter is destined for terrible misfortune!
Thus, Demon Hunters are unwelco anywhere, though they possess trendous power—people loathe them but don’t dare to act excessively.
Demon Hunters are also rcenaries, hired to deal with monster threats attacking villages.
But the relationship is strictly limited to employnt.
Ronan watched as the Demon Hunter stopped in front of a tavern, tethered the steed roadside, and walked inside.
Many taverns in the countryside and city, serve as places for information exchange and issue various tasks.
It was very typical for Demon Hunters to frequent taverns.
And just as Ronan turned his gaze away, he suddenly sensed sothing different.
Ronan imdiately twisted his head, only to see a passerby nearby quickly withdrawing his gaze.
The person dressed and appeared ordinary, carrying a backpack like a traveler.
And people like this were common in the port city of Lande.
Ronan searched his mory but couldn’t link the stranger to anything.
The question arose, why did this passerby show malice towards him?
Even though the prying was discreet and undetectable to the ordinary, Ronan’s perception was extraordinarily sharp, allowing him to confirm with certainty this man bore strong ill intent towards him!
Thinking swiftly, Ronan walked briskly towards the passerby, "Stop!"
The traveler shuddered, halted, and asked in surprise, "Officer, are you calling ?"
Ironically, he didn’t want to face off with Ronan, yet Ronan’s pace was quick, directly blocking his path.
Ronan drew his baton, coldly stating, "Show your certificate."
The traveler seed even more surprised, "Officer, what have I done wrong?"
Ronan gripped the baton tightly, raising his voice a notch, "I’ll say it again, show your certificate!"
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The first Chapter is presented.
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