The troublemaking soldier who had been so eager for a fight that he'd jumped straight into a trap ultimately didn't die.
Though in his current predicament, with his hands bound, he was as good as dead either way. But that didn't stop the human instinct to survive at all costs from producing some truly absurd antics.
As he shakily accepted the "killing gun"—the kind that was guaranteed to kill someone the moment its trigger was pulled—the man rolled his eyes in full view of everyone, then collapsed, twitching and foaming at the mouth.
All right.
That was a pretty crude act.
Even a hyena who only knew how to eat meat probably wouldn't believe such a blunt "performance," but in the deathly silence, Maxim didn't press the matter.
The vampire general merely gave a couple of cold laughs, then shifted his gaze from the idiot who had "fainted his way out" and looked at the others. Under his gaze, the troublemaking soldiers, who had been so aggressive moments earlier, all lowered their heads.
Their bravado was gone. Their courage had deserted them.
Now, they didn't even have the nerve to face these Transian lunatics, let alone raise a flag in rebellion.
In that respect, though the bricklayer had been unlucky, he'd chosen a highly effective way to fight back. For scum who loved a brawl, the moment they encountered someone more ruthless than themselves, submission was their only option—and it came swiftly.
"Back to your barracks."
The construction worker picked up the bloodstained revolver and shouted sternly, while the wild local foremen behind him laughed loudly, making no effort to hide their contempt:
"Local officials will be here soon to register you and assign you to your posts. For the sake of your not-so-precious lives and utterly meaningless pride, I