Jevan raised his hand and threw a new set of playing cards into the air. They began to spin rapidly, forming a small vortex before instantly transforming into a swarm of black crows that rushed toward Jackson, emitting sounds resembling sharp caws but deeper, harsher, as if they ca from the mouths of demons. The flying feathers of the crows filled the entire room.
Jackson didn’t step back or try to escape. Instead, he raised the black pen in his right hand, rolling it between his fingers before whispering incomprehensible words. The tattoos on the arms of the corpses lying on the ground skull marks suddenly glowed, releasing thick black smoke that filled the room, making it impossible for Jevan to see.
The dead bodies began to move again. Soon, they stood up from the floor. As they rose, their bodies started to swell, their faces twisted, and their eyes turned completely white.
Jackson whispered another string of incomprehensible words while pointing the pen toward them, and the four creatures charged at Jevan all at once from behind and both sides trying to surround him and block his movent.
But without even turning toward them, Jevan lifted his hand, and the crows darted forward, attacking the undead and stopping them from reaching him.
One of the corpses shoved the crows away while the rest attacked all at once, causing every crow to vanish and revert back into playing cards.
They tried to rush Jevan again, but he gestured with his hand, and the cards ford a moving wall in front of him, twisting around his body like a shield to block a joint strike from the four monsters.
anwhile, Jackson raised the pen again, trying to use the chaos and Jevan’s distraction to escape from the room. But Jevan, without turning around, lifted the gloved hand and said:
"The first rule dead bodies aren’t allowed to move."
From the glove on his hand, transparent red chains shot out, quickly wrapping around the raging monsters and then around Jackson himself, binding them all tightly in place.
Each chain was connected to a playing card stuck to the ground or to soone’s flesh, the blood-drawn red symbols on them glowing faintly.
Jevan smiled behind his mask, then walked until he stood right in front of Jackson. Leaning forward slightly, he tapped Jackson’s forehead with his fingertips, speaking with mocking calm:
"You know, at first I expected to face an old man in his fifties. But when I saw you, I thought for a mont I’d found your son or your grandson. Now I understand how you still manage to look this young."
Jackson clenched his teeth tightly.
"You think you can keep going like this forever? Wandering around, doing whatever you want? In the end, you’ll beco a threat to everyone, and they’ll all unite to bring you down."
Jevan raised his hand, and a large number of playing cards fell onto Jackson’s back, sticking to his flesh like small knives. Yet no blood ca out, and Jackson didn’t seem to feel any pain.
Jevan stared at the scene, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he said in surprise:
"Fascinating. How exactly did you manage to alter your body like this?"
Jackson snarled, struggling against the chains.
"Didn’t you hear ?! I’m talking to you, bastard!"
Jevan replied in an extrely calm tone:
"You talk with a lot of arrogance for a man who’s about to die. But fine, I’ll be generous today and treat that as your final wish."
After saying that, he turned away, hands in his pockets.
"I don’t care anyway."
"Do you know who I am?! I’m Jackson Frimora! Even if you survive the filthy gangs of the Lower District, do you really think the Frimora family will let you live?! We never forgive anyone who kills one of our own!"
Jevan stopped and turned to him, then reached out and effortlessly took the pen from Jackson’s grip. He lifted it slightly, examined it for a mont, then struck Jackson’s head with it, speaking in a light, teasing tone:
"From the way you talk, I’d say your family is noble, right? I would’ve been terrified, honestly but tell , Mr. Noble, what exactly are you doing down here in the Lower District, working with a gang, and even bearing the skull tattoo? Shouldn’t you be sitting in your mansion right now, drinking wine and enjoying a fine al?"
Jackson said nothing. Only the sound of his furious breathing ca out.
Jevan stepped closer, leaned down slightly, then patted his head twice, saying:
"Oh, I think I get it now. You were exiled here, weren’t you? And since you’re around fifty now, that ans your exile happened a long ti ago. As far as I know, nobles are only exiled if they’ve brought disgrace upon their family or committed a very serious cri against another noble house."
Jackson’s lips trembled.
"You..."
Jevan straightened up, brushed the dust off his coat with his right hand, and said as he turned his back to him:
"I think that family has completely forgotten about you by now. They won’t avenge a man who brought them sha decades ago and died in a failed gang war in the Lower District."
He raised his hand, then lowered it, deactivating the Law’s Authority. Instantly, the chains surrounding Jackson shattered and disappeared. The mont they vanished, Jackson, blinded by rage, charged at Jevan.
But Jevan lifted his hand without turning. A flurry of playing cards shot out at high speed, piercing Jackson’s head from multiple directions and shattering it into pieces. His body froze for a brief mont, then collapsed to the floor motionless.
Silence filled the room as Jevan stood still behind his mask, expressionless. Then he spoke with mockery while picking up one of the cards from Jackson’s corpse behind him:
"An exiled noble working for a gang, running a clothing factory. What a fascinating story."
Then he turned and left the room.
End of the Chapter 76: Preparations (9)
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