The Middle Finger

"Enough!"

Ricky raised his voice, ordering the Mercenaries to sheathe their weapons and return to their positions.

He looked impatiently at the three of them. "I don't care about your internal grudges, whether they involve the Dark Chamber or Exeter."

Russell and Dean exchanged a glance before looking away.

"You three, tell me," Ricky's patience seemed to be reaching its limit. "The Prince of Starfall... where exactly is he?"

Tales' nerves tightened again!

Beside him, Kuaishang, who had just escaped Dean's scrutiny, sighed and patted his chest.

Dean turned his head with a cold snort.

"What business is he of yours?"

At those words, whether it was Fuse, Russell, or the Calamity Swords, they all frowned.

Ricky tilted his gaze slightly, cold light flashing in his eyes.

"That's right. That damned Prince wasn't our business in the first place."

"But he affects whether we can obtain aid from our allies." As Ricky spoke, Fuse across from him smiled and bowed at just the right moment. "So now he is our business."

Ricky's tone grew colder and colder, making people feel an urge to retreat. "You've always been clever, Dean, so you'd better understand one thing: right now, we control this place, including who can come in and who can leave."

"Who can walk out, and who has to be carried out."

"Understand?"

As he spoke, the Calamity Swords all drew their weapons partway. Shing!

Dean's expression tightened.

He looked solemnly around, surveying the tavern that was as impregnable as a fortress and sensing the Mercenaries' hostile gazes.

No.

Tales sighed inwardly. There are still too many of them.

At last, Dean exhaled, his tone loosening.

"All right."

"Your plan, that Prince..." Dean said reluctantly. "The Dark Chamber must be involved—even if you hand him over to King Chaman, he must