"Who gave the order?"
After Musa learned that the Control Room had issued a broadcast and recalled the guards sent as reinforcements, he immediately realized this rebellion was far from simple.
"Lord Musa, we heard you say it yourself over the broadcast..." an A-Rank Guard said.
Musa cast another guard a faint glance, and the man immediately felt a bone-chilling cold wash over him.
It was an indescribable sense of oppression. That look made his hair stand on end, and goosebumps rose across his skin without his control.
It wasn't killing intent! As an A-Rank Guard, he had struggled in the mercenary world for many years and possessed his own murderous aura. He knew very well that Musa held no killing intent at all right now. It was a different kind of indifference, as though he were nothing more than a chicken.
Who would burst forth with killing intent toward a chicken? This guard had heard plenty of stories about Musa.
Over a hundred years old, he had once killed as easily as breathing. Having participated in both the First World War and World War II, he had emerged from iron and blood. During the Vietnam War, he had slaughtered over a thousand people.
It was said he had killed until he vomited—not because he was sickened, but because he had grown tired of it.
After that, he no longer fought on the front lines. In the 1980s, he regained his youth and turned to command, staff work, and research. His image changed drastically, and his murderous aura vanished from sight.
Instead, he gave people the impression of being refined, learned, and full of vitality.
Yet now, with just that cold sideways glance, he made people feel as though they had fallen into an ice cave.
"Speak properly," Musa said