Don't Move!

Frevanz is the pearl of the North Sea, its land filled with precious platinum-lead ore veins.

So much so that the entire country's territory is dyed a uniform white.

As if untouched by dust.

A dreamlike white kingdom.

That is Frevanz.

There are countless business opportunities here.

Endless wealth exists.

People from the surrounding seas often come here with dreams of striking it rich, to pan for gold and settle down.

Merlin's Father was one of them, but his luck was bad. He encountered a mining accident and was buried here.

Merlin's understanding of the future of this world isn't very clear. He knows about the future King Luffy entering Dressrosa and defeating Doflamingo, but after that point, his knowledge comes mostly from posts and videos.

Merlin does know the future of Frevanz: it will be baptized by cannon fire, burned to ashes by raging infernos.

There will be almost no survivors.

Merlin doesn't want to die. He wants to live. Only by living can there be a future.

The royal family of this country knew about the dangers of platinum-lead mining to living beings a hundred years ago, yet they chose to conceal it all with the World Government.

Feasting on human flesh buns.

Deceiving the world, making immense profits, and now the royal family has left here on the government's large ship.

Taking with them the sky-high wealth accumulated over a century, they might go to another island, buy land and people, and continue to be the royalty of some country.

Living it up in luxury.

Walking through streets and alleys, Merlin recalled the information in his mind.

Bang bang--!

From the street in the distance, gunshots rang out again. Merlin's steps quickened involuntarily.

Two minutes later, just as he ran out of an alley, Merlin suddenly took a step back. On the street not far away, three soldiers in protective suits holding guns appeared.

Taking a breath, Merlin looked up at the two-and-a-half-meter-high wall beside him. He crouched and jumped, grabbing the top of the wall with his hands, and pushed himself over.

Lying on the wall, watching the soldiers running towards him in the distance, Merlin glanced at a courtyard on the inner side of the wall. He easily flipped over, landing steadily on the lawn inside.

This is the central district of Frevanz. Most of the residents here are either rich or noble.

In Merlin's memory, this seemed to be the manor of some viscount.

He heard that the viscount liked to collect rare swords and other weapons.

But at this moment, it was quiet, and the villa was pitch black.

With the enhancement of the [Rat], Merlin gained weak night vision.

Staying close to the wall, motionless, a moment later, hurried footsteps sounded from the other side of the wall, and voices followed.

"He's gone?"

"He must have run!"

"He might have run into the surrounding villa district."

"Yeah, so should we go in and look?"

"Forget it. A little rat isn't worth the trouble. Let's hurry up and sweep for infected people. They'll only have one ending anyway."

The footsteps began to fade. Merlin's gaze was calm, and he continued to slow his breathing. But a minute later, hurried footsteps returned.

They had circled back.

"Looks like the little rat really ran. Let's go clear out the trash in the villa district then."

"Okay, let's start here."

Merlin slowly raised his head and looked towards the top of the wall. A soldier climbed over, observed for a few seconds, said it was safe, and jumped down from the wall.

Merlin's eyes turned cold. Looking at the figure half a meter in front of him, he didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, hooked his left arm around the soldier's neck, and fiercely plunged his right dagger into his side neck. Then, he cut horizontally with the blade. With a crack, the cartilage of his throat was severed.

Blood gushed out.

At this moment, another soldier was already on the wall and then jumped down.

Merlin suddenly pushed the convulsing soldier towards the other. The soldier was clearly surprised, but in the dark, he couldn't see clearly and thought the other had lost his footing, so he reached out to steady him.

At this moment, Merlin stepped forward, his left knee violently slamming into his groin. With a dull thud, he collapsed.

The soldier's mouth gaped open, his body went limp, and he knelt on the ground. Immediately, a shining arc flashed. Merlin, holding the dagger with both hands, plunged it fiercely into the back of his neck. A section of the dagger's tip protruded from his mouth.

The entire sequence of actions took only five seconds. The third soldier climbed over the wall. He noticed something was wrong. At this moment, Merlin pulled out his dagger and suddenly jumped up. He braced himself on the wall with his left hand and forcefully stabbed his right dagger into the soldier's thigh.

Then, he let go of the dagger, grabbed the soldier by his collar, and pulled him down from the wall.

Merlin landed on the ground, picked up a spear from the ground, gripped the spearhead, and used the butt to violently smash it into the soldier's back of the head.

A dull thud and screams mingled together. After smashing it for more than ten seconds, the soldier stopped making noise.

Merlin quickly bent down, pulled the dagger from his leg, and plunged it into his opponent's neck.

After finishing the kill, Merlin sat down on the ground, panting heavily.

The pungent smell of blood constantly filled his nostrils, his throat constricted, and his stomach churned. Merlin took deep breaths to adjust.

Looking at the three corpses around him, Merlin gasped for air and muttered to himself:

"If you didn't die, I would have. This outcome is simply because I'm stronger than you right now."

He didn't have deep-seated hatred for them, nor did Merlin feel any particular patriotism for Frevanz. But since they chose to attack him, they must have been prepared to be killed by him in return.

Merlin couldn't truly say he hated the current fate of Frevanz.

They weren't the ones primarily responsible.

But he wouldn't hesitate to kill them either.

This was war.

Even if he was the only one fighting.

Merlin's gaze sharpened. He looked at their equipment and began to loot.

Five minutes later, Nine egg-shaped grenades were placed beside him, along with three five-shot rifles and a set of protective suits worn by these soldiers.

Merlin took off his own clothes and put on a set of protective suits that were roughly his size.

The shoes were a bit ill-fitting, a little large, but it didn't matter. Merlin cut the inner lining of a short-sleeved shirt from another soldier with his dagger and stuffed it in to make the shoes fit better.

He packed his belongings into their sturdier backpack and slung it over his shoulder. The gas mask was clipped to his waist. He picked up the rifle he wouldn't use and hung eight grenades on his right hip.

Merlin looked at the grenade in his hand, its shape similar to the German M39 from his previous life.

After a simple manipulation, he pressed the safety lever, pulled the pin, and hurled it forcefully into the distance, counting silently in his mind... One... Two... Three... Four... BOOM!

A deafening explosion, accompanied by flames, erupted from sixty meters away.

Merlin estimated the blast radius to be about five meters and the detonation time to be between four and five seconds.

His eye twitched, and Merlin inwardly clicked his tongue. The development of weaponry in this world was truly bizarre.

In his memory, firearms in the East Sea were only single-shot flintlock pistols and smoothbore rifles.

But in the North Sea, there were already repeating rifles, repeating revolvers, and even flamethrowers and grenades.

He shook his head, no longer dwelling on it. He now looked towards the main building of the villa.

He recalled that the Viscount here had a fondness for collecting precious swords. He wondered if there were any left.

Gripping his dagger, Merlin walked lightly towards the main building.

Soon, he arrived at a floor-to-ceiling window on the side of the main building. He forcefully struck it with the butt of the gun in his left hand, shattering the glass with a CRASH!

However, Merlin didn't rush in. He quietly hid outside the window, carefully listening for any other movement inside.

Then, a hoarse cat's meow, "Mrow," came from inside. A thoughtful look flashed in Merlin's eyes:

"I seem to recall this Viscount, besides collecting swords, also kept a young lynx?"

With this thought, a glint appeared in Merlin's eyes, and he stepped through the broken floor-to-ceiling window.

The dim interior did not hinder Merlin's vision. The interior was luxuriously decorated, and there were three sword racks to the right.

Two of them were already empty, but there was a long sword in the style of a katana on the remaining one. A look of joy flashed in Merlin's eyes.

He strode over, sheathed his dagger back in the scabbard tied to his right thigh, and then reached out to grasp the blade. Just then, a cold voice came from behind him:

"Don't move. Drop your weapon, or I'll shoot."

Merlin's gaze immediately sharpened, and he dropped the rifle in his hand onto the ground.

"Turn around."

The voice spoke again.

Slowly turning, he saw a middle-aged man with blood-soaked bandages wrapped around his chest appear at the floor-to-ceiling window.