Chapter 176 Cooperation
The moonlight outside the dungeon was pale and cold, like a blade, blurring the slave mark on the brown-haired young man's face and slicing out his deep and gloomy facial features.
Perhaps out of caution, they did not leave the dungeon, but these slaves did not seem to worry too much about the dungeon's supposedly extremely strict guards.
Maxine finally recalled the source of the vague sense of déjà vu she had felt when she saw the brown-haired slave. She quietly hid herself behind her companions to conceal her shock.
Slave General Greven, a warrior of the Light Element. Maxine had fought him before, the young woman nearly having half her body severed by the general's heavy sword, while her own punches had also shattered a dozen of his ribs and his right shoulder bone.
If Greven hadn't suddenly received the tyrant's order to retreat, Marshilin even suspected she would be killed by him. Of course, he certainly wouldn't have had it easy. So much so that even after Greven's death, she often felt a deep sense of regret. For a warrior, a good rival is truly rare. The few times they'd fought before his death weren't exactly satisfying.
But it was no wonder that Maxine didn't recognize him at first sight. In her deep memory, the general had a horrible slave mark on his face that destroyed one of his eyes and completely ruined his facial features. The deep scars that could be seen through the bone would even crack into blood-red fissures as his muscles expanded, like a living volcano.
The brown-haired young man in front of him looked tall, strong, steady and powerful. Even though the black blood mark covered his face, his handsome features could still be seen.
Mashilin suddenly felt a little sad, an inexplicable sadness for her former rival.
The emperor was talking to the general from his previous life, who was far from being as mature and reserved as he was in his previous life. Even she could see that his emotions were constantly changing.
Maxine couldn't help but be distracted. She had never really liked these complexities; that was Azuka's forte. But after chatting with Orel, she realized that in this life, he rarely took the initiative to inquire about the tyrant's forces. Instead, he chose to quietly help guide the notoriously socially awkward Majesty to complete control. Like a fine, flexible golden thread, he silently wove himself into the tyrant's web, until he was inseparable.
He seemed to be silently conveying a message to His Majesty: I am harmless, but also dangerous - in the final analysis, I am important.
Of course, we won't discuss the various thoughts behind this. The red-haired girl couldn't help but wonder with mixed emotions what this guy must be feeling after meeting the tyrant's true "loyal dog."
"You plan to take advantage of the day of the gods' sacrifice, when the main armed forces of the Bloody Bazaar are concentrated in the Golden Bazaar, to launch a slave riot that will spread throughout the port."
Unaware of the mixed feelings in the protagonists' minds, the professor was negotiating with the suspected leader of the slave resistance.
At first, the slaves behind him seemed to want to kill him, but as the conversation progressed, the shock gradually outweighed the fear, and finally even gradually developed into a kind of "awe".
...As their carefully planned plan was casually and lightly revealed, Ashes began to feel somewhat numb. If this person wanted to harm them, the information he possessed alone would be enough to completely destroy the entire camp, rather than going through the trouble of coming to the Rusted Iron Market and personally talking to a group of slaves.
If the information the other party obtained was simply leaked due to the disclosure of a certain step, how can we explain that this person can accurately calculate something that has not yet been implemented and that only he and Greven know?
—Is this guy a prophet? One of those crazy "weavers" who worship the goddess of fate, Lamodo?
Greven asked the question everyone was about to ask: "Who are you?"
He stood in the shadows, his muscles tensed, like a wild beast ready to pounce. In comparison, the black-haired young man in front of him, shrouded in moonlight, looked particularly frail, as if he would be torn to pieces at any time.
"I am only a slave now," the professor repeated calmly. He thought for a moment and added, "You can call me... 'Ghost'."
The loyalty of the previous life was a matter of the previous life. At least now, he needed Greven and these slaves to show due sincerity and value before he would take a further step - although he was the one who came here first and used threats and inducements, which was very unreasonable, but who said he was a tyrant in every life?
In the end, he and Greven reached a simple consensus on cooperation - he would help promote the success of the riot, but before that, the other party had to become his eyes and ears and help him collect some information. The huge slave network throughout Hong Kong was the best information network.
Greven seemed a little surprised. Compared to the black-haired young man's aggressive, oppressive, and even terrifying way of speaking, the reward he asked for could be considered moderate - but he didn't know if it meant anything extra.
This guy is not bad, Nova narrowed his eyes slightly. Although he is still a little immature, he has a calm personality and careful thinking. He always puts personal emotions after the overall interests. He is also trusted and respected by those around him. He can be called a qualified leader, at least more reliable than that guy Ore Asachi.
The assassin leader, who was far away from the Bloody Market, suddenly sneezed and looked around vigilantly.
"...I don't know how you dealt with the red snake."
Greven took a deep look at the guy who covered his face with the hood of his cloak. The guy stood behind the "Ghost" all the time without saying a word - that face was really impressive. It was incredible that Red Snake would let the guy run around. The "Ghost" was an ordinary person, which only meant that this person's strength far exceeded his imagination.
He offered a bit of goodwill: "But Rusty Iron Market sometimes welcomes some... important figures, so you have to be careful."
"...Please don't worry about that." Nova glanced at him in surprise, and in his heart he made another judgment about him - he was soft-hearted and compassionate.
However, some clues can be seen from the fact that the other party once stepped forward to rescue them from the thugs.
As Greven was about to leave, the professor suddenly raised his hand and grabbed the iron bar of the cell. The iron chain on his wrist hit it, making a crisp sound of metal clashing. "Do you have any adult male slaves here who were sold to the Silver Flower Mine in Black County?"
"...A lot." The brown-haired young man stopped and stared at him with an unsure expression. "Most of the young male slaves here have been sold to the various mines and become miners. You need to provide us with more characteristics."
The professor was silent for a moment, then he suddenly lowered his eyes wearily, slightly turning his face away: "...I don't know."
Strictly speaking, all his knowledge of that man came from some fragments in letters and newspapers - the workers called him "hunchback", and he didn't even know the other person's name or appearance, and knew very little about his origins and past.
Maxine looked at him in shock. She had never thought that these words would come out of His Majesty's mouth.
"But perhaps you've heard of him, if you could get any information from the outside world." The slight emotional fluctuation was fleeting, and the black-haired young man quickly regained his composure. "During the Black County strike, the 'Shadow Chaser' who scattered a confession in the streets, exposing the Vatican's theft of national minerals, was a slave with the Black Blood Mark from the Crimson Bazaar."
“…”
"Before he died, he cried out, 'Only the truth remains.'" Those smoky gray eyes seemed to discern the lifeblood of everyone before him. "What exactly was the truth he spoke of? Do you have any thoughts on it?"
This was obviously not something an ordinary slave would blurt out. Someone must have said this to him, someone must have taught him... What kind of "truth" was worth him giving everything for, even his own life?
“…Fried.”
In the breathless silence, Greven suddenly said, "His name is Fried."
A deep pain and sorrow flashed quickly in his eyes.
Friede means "freedom" in ancient Sylveon language.
…
After achieving their goal, they returned to Aore's safe house. The Red Snake's savior had already cast a spell, ready to rush over if there was any unusual movement.
Although he hadn't slept all night and was even a little sleepy, the professor decided to fulfill his promise first.
When he entered the bathroom, someone had already thrown the dirty and torn clothes on the ground with disgust. With his upper body naked, he was supporting himself on the sink with both hands, standing in front of the mirror and observing himself carefully - at least this person was still reserved, and the wrinkles of the bath towel loosely covered his lower hips.
The brass valve in the bathtub had been turned on, and the water mist was hot and hazy. After hearing the movement, the savior turned his head slightly, and no emotion could be seen on his extremely beautiful face.
The youthful immaturity of this body had gradually faded, revealing the sculpted hardness and slenderness of a mature man. After the smooth, powerful, and elegant lines of his body were revealed for a rare and complete moment, accompanied by the slight rise and fall of his breathing, the sharpness and danger that was waiting to be unleashed rose like an unfamiliar tide.
But his skin was a warm, clean, and even holy white, which seemed to neutralize the inexplicable sense of oppression on the other person. The divinity was wandering on the left side of the blond god's chest, and the strange ancient totem emitted a faint light, almost attracting all the attention of the other person.
"……professor."
Nova instinctively hummed and raised his eyes in confusion, only to meet the savior's somewhat helpless eyes.
He realized belatedly that now was not the time to stare endlessly at the divine seal on someone's chest.
"Sit down." The professor expressionlessly hooked a small stool in front of the man with his foot. "Let me wash your hair. Where are your usual toiletries?"
The narrow and small wooden bench was probably not very comfortable to sit on - but since someone was taller than him, this was the only one he could find.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
