Killing Night

Creak.

A hooked-nose thug came out, cursing. "Stinking bitch!"

"You wouldn't even use your mouth. If not for the fact that you could still earn me some money, I'd teach you a proper lesson!"

He turned past the railing and entered an alley, then pulled out his member to piss. There were almost no dedicated latrines in the Slums. This place was even filthier and more foul-smelling than nineteenth-century London. Walking through the alleys between shacks, one careless step could land you in someone else's waste. Hardly any nobles or wealthy people came here, and even the guards could not be bothered to patrol.

They simply let the people in the Slums fend for themselves.

"Fuck!"

"One day, I'll make you pay!"

The hooked-nose thug had barely finished speaking when he suddenly felt a chill at the back of his neck. Before he could draw his weapon, an arm clamped over his mouth. Then a dagger flashed coldly through the darkness, slicing open his throat in an instant. Blood sprayed far away, bubbling out in great gushes. The figure behind him gripped his neck until the corpse stopped twitching before letting go. Only then did Soren emerge from the shadows, expressionless as death itself.

Once he entered combat, he had no mercy left in him.

Otherwise, he could never have survived long enough to enter the legendary realm.

He dragged the corpse into the alley. Blood covered the ground, but fortunately, darkness concealed everything.

"Where's Kabo?"

Another thug came out cursing, grumbling, "Why's he taking so damn long just to take a piss?"

"The boss needs him."

The thug looked around and clearly sensed that something was wrong. They had fought another gang just two days ago, so he warily drew his Short Sword and edged toward the alley.

The smell of blood drifted over.

The thug's face changed drastically. He opened his mouth to call for help, but the shadows twisted in an instant.

A dagger pierced through his back into his heart. A powerful arm locked around his neck, choking off the cry that had reached his throat.

"Shadow Hide successful!"

"Backstab activated!"

"Backstab successfully activated *2, dealing 16 damage to the target!"

"Target dead!"

"Extracting target Soul Energy. Gained 30 experience points."

Soren dragged the second corpse into the alley.

Having killed two people in succession, the stench of blood inside had become overwhelming. Even the nearby residents sensed something and immediately barred their doors shut.

Clang!

Soren picked up another dagger and walked out with a weapon in each hand.

The smell of blood on him was thick.

There was no point in continuing to hide. The enemy would soon become alert and discover him.

There were not many experts in Slums gangs, and even fewer possessed the template of Professionals. Killing two first was enough.

Thud, thud!

Soren leaped up, pushed off the wall, and landed on the roof.

His extraordinary human agility of twenty points allowed him to move without making the slightest sound. He picked up a roof tile and tossed it down, instantly alerting the others inside. Three gang enforcers carrying weapons came out. The leader was Garris, whom Soren had seen during the day. Garris scanned the area warily before motioning for the others to head toward the nearby alley.

"Ah!"

A miserable scream echoed through the night.

Soren descended like an eagle, pouncing on the man lagging behind. His dagger sliced from the man's back down to his waist, then his other hand flashed coldly and drove a blade through the gap beneath the man's jaw and into his skull.

There was not a trace of hesitation.

Soren raised his leg and kicked the corpse away, then threw the dagger in his hand, striking the second enemy directly in the chest.

"It's you!..."

The leading warrior growled, drawing his longsword and chopping down. His expression was grim. "Have you lost your mind?!"

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The daggers in Soren's hands traced eerie arcs as they caught the opponent's consecutive chops. He said in a low voice, "You shouldn't have set your sights on Vivian."

"So I can only send every last one of you to hell!"

A rogue could never fight a prolonged battle against a warrior!

Soren had always remembered that clearly. So after the other man unleashed a three-strike combo of military swordsmanship, he sidestepped into a sliding kick. Cold light appeared strangely in his other palm, cutting a gash across his enemy's waist.

Garris was a vigilant man!

Ever since returning from an adventure wounded, he had even slept in Leather Armor. A dagger could not pierce the tough cowhide armor.

Soren could only attack places not covered by Leather Armor.

Blood seeped out.

Garris covered his waist with a hand, feeling the area go numb. His expression turned exceptionally ugly. "Poison!"

He remembered clearly.

Soren should never have received any formal training. How could he be so familiar with the military swordsmanship Garris used?

He had found the flaw in his moves in the blink of an eye!

That was right.

Perhaps the former Soren did not know, but to the current Soren, Garris's swordsmanship was simply too familiar.

Even the advanced Cross Swordplay, White Raven Tactics, Reverse Slash Swordplay, and so on were all techniques Soren knew exceptionally well. A legendary rogue had fought hundreds of battles. If he did not understand his opponents' moves, how could he have possibly lived to reach the legendary realm? Garris was merely a thug from the Slums. Unless he had encountered some special opportunity or could afford the exorbitant cost of training, the only thing he could master was low-level military swordsmanship.

A basic sword art that, once mastered, increased base accuracy by three points and allowed the use of the sword technique—Heavy Chop.

Clang!

A spark burst forth.

Soren's steps traced a strange path as he abruptly moved from the front to the enemy's back. He stabbed into Garris's neck bone, then twisted the dagger in a circle.

Thud!

Garris's corpse fell to the ground.

Soren stood where he was, catching his breath before saying softly, "Dying to Shadow Step is a fitting end for a Professional like you."

This was the ability of a legendary rogue.

But Soren currently had no way of controlling the power of shadows. A true Shadow Step should cross the Shadow Plane and appear behind the opponent. What he had done just now was merely use technique and the instant of Shadow Hide to confuse the enemy's vision before circling behind him. Legendary rogues had comprehended the essence of shadow and could draw upon its power in battle to use many spell-like Spellcasting Abilities. If Soren had not possessed twenty points of extraordinary agility and been able to imitate many of his old Combat Skills, he would not have casually come here to kill these thugs.

In less than one or two minutes, another three corpses were left on the ground.

Under the shadows of night.

Everyone nearby had hidden away, while the prostitutes trembled in terror behind their doors.

Soren lifted a corpse and smashed through the front door. There were quite a few people in a Slums gang, but only these people were truly core members. The street trash brought in merely to make up numbers was useless. With Soren's current skill, dealing with such riffraff would be as easy as chopping melons and vegetables. Most Professionals could easily take on ten ordinary people alone.

Whoosh!

The sound of a crossbow firing rang out.

The corpse Soren held jerked. He instantly released it and lunged forward, actually kicking off the wall and running sideways through the air for three steps before landing and pouncing at the enemies in front of him.

This technique, beyond ordinary understanding, clearly stunned the enemies for a moment!

Before they could react, two people clutched their throats and collapsed, great streams of blood pouring out.

Soren's reactions were absurdly sharp. He narrowly avoided the descending longsword, then kicked a stool into an enemy's face. He seized the arm of the enemy before him with a backhand grip, and his dagger sliced straight through the man's tendons. As a cry of pain rang out, the flying dagger flashed coldly and carved a half-foot-long gash across his throat.

Blood gushed out in torrents!

Clack!

Soren lightly hooked his toe, catching a crossbow in his hand. He adjusted it swiftly, kicked open the room's door, and fired forward.

A crossbow bolt shot out!

A muffled groan came from inside the room, followed by a cry of pain.

"So... Soren!..."

"Don't kill me!... I'll let you be the boss!... You'll be the leader from now on!..."

Cole was a sullen middle-aged man, but at this moment, he clutched his arm, his face filled with terror as he begged repeatedly, "Don't kill me!"

"I'll listen to you from now on."

A flash of cold light.

Soren expressionlessly slit his throat, then frowned at the blood covering his body and began searching the room for valuables.

There were eleven people in total.

They were more or less all the gang's current core members, and three of them had advanced into Professionals.

Unfortunately, they were all only level one.

Other than Garris, who could withstand a few of his moves, the rest were basically no match for him!

After all, no one could expect the Slums to produce any real experts.

The people here lacked food, let alone wealth or the energy to train. Those who advanced into Professionals had mostly done so because they had survived too many street brawls.

A level-one warrior with formal training could face two or three of them alone!

Soren tore off a bedsheet and wrapped all the valuables inside. After tying it into a large bundle, he slung it over his shoulder and walked away.

Someone was peeking out secretly.

But no one dared to step outside. This was not something they dared involve themselves in.

After Soren's figure disappeared.

Several men immediately crept over furtively. They shot a vicious glare at the prostitutes not far away, then stripped the valuables from the corpses before running into the house to carry out everything of value.

This gang had been wiped out.

Another gang would replace them tomorrow. If they did not grab some benefits now, they would have no chance later.

This was the Slums.

There was nothing unusual about such things happening here.