Gang Rules

After successfully completing his Job Advancement, Suren was finally able to clearly feel the gap between a "professional" and an "ordinary person."

And this was only the difference in the boosts to physical attributes and skills after Job Advancement. The real key to increasing a professional's combat strength lay in Alchemical Implants.

Although Suren could not see other people's status panels, he could guess that after advancing into the rare Abomination Puppeteer profession using Gold Material, his attributes would definitely crush those of similar professionals by a wide margin.

That also made him increasingly "worried" about what direction to take with his future Alchemical Implants.

With such outstanding innate attributes, using ordinary Augment Armor blueprints felt like a waste. Even the Thousand Kill Wings Silver Implant worn by Goethe, the gang officer known as Night Angel, seemed somewhat lacking to Suren.

High agility suited it well enough, but the high skill and high Mental Power would be somewhat wasted.

Without giving it much thought, Suren spent the entire day meditating in the inn after completing his Job Advancement.

He needed time to properly adapt to his explosively increased attributes.

The Rune Anomaly Puppet had brought a leap in his physical constitution. Moreover, for a long time to come, that growth would continue in diminishing increments until the cursed properties in the material had been fully digested.

Throughout the entire "digestion" process, he would frequently hear indistinct whispers by his ear. They were the enlightenment the Alchemy master who had originally refined the Abomination Puppeteer inheritance material wished to impart to him. Perhaps during this process, he would comprehend more professional abilities.

As night fell, the fog shrouding the entire city gradually thickened once again.

It was time for the work gathering.

Suren jolted awake from meditation ahead of schedule.

As his thoughts returned to reality, the unbearable noises from the room next door drifted over again.

He glanced around the awful room, frowned deeply, and muttered, "Looks like I need to find a long-term place to stay."

He checked out and left the inn.

Suren arrived at the meeting place fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.

Before an abandoned building beside Green Street, a bonfire burned in an iron barrel, its flickering light casting monstrous shadows across the walls.

However, something about today's atmosphere felt off.

Captain Kai sat on the steps to one side with a cold expression, not the slightest smile on his face. The old hands were not laughing or fooling around either. As though they knew something was about to happen, each of them stood quietly where they were.

Suren walked to the roadside, found a spot, and squatted there in imitation of the old hands' roguish postures.

More people gradually arrived. Seeing that the atmosphere was wrong, some began whispering among themselves.

"What happened? Captain doesn't look too good."

"Hey, they found out who the sniper that attacked us yesterday was. It was Miller, an old gang member. He and Captain Kai were really close too. What a pity..."

"Ah, you mean Captain Miller from Red Fan Street was the mole?"

"Shh. Captain's in a bad mood. Don't bring it up."

"..."

Listening from the side, Suren more or less figured out why Kai had such a dark expression.

But he was not particularly surprised.

He had already guessed there could not have been many marksmen capable of accurately sniping a target from that distance. If the shooter had been someone within the Cross Society, they could probably be identified easily.

A friend had turned into a mole. Naturally, Kai would not look pleased.

Still, when Suren heard that the gunman had committed suicide out of guilt, he felt there might be more to the matter.

But he did not dwell on it. That was a headache for the gang's higher-ups.

Before long, everyone had arrived.

Kai did not waste any words. With a dark face, he said directly, "Anyone who failed to show up for yesterday's gang operation, step forward!"

His voice was not loud, but everyone could hear the merciless chill in his tone.

The crowd looked at one another. At that moment, two old gang members stepped out with pale faces.

"Captain, it wasn't that I didn't want to come. I drank too much yesterday and really didn't hear the assembly call."

Before the bearded man could explain further, Kai interrupted him and said expressionlessly, "Qiao, you're an old gang member too. You should know the gang rules well. Do it yourself."

"I..."

At those words, Qiao's face turned ugly.

But he knew the gang rules allowed no mercy. Gritting his teeth, he said no more. He picked up an axe from nearby and, without hesitation, swung it down at his left wrist.

With a sharp crack, bone split apart.

The sharp axe severed his wrist in one blow. His severed hand hit the ground, and blood sprayed out.

Cold sweat covered Qiao's face. Looking at Kai, he lowered his head. "Captain, I was wrong."

Kai still said nothing. He merely glanced at the other man. "Doern, what about you?"

"I..."

The other man, a skinny Rooster Head, had gone deathly pale with fright, but he still staggered forward.

Not everyone could chop off their own hand without blinking. The man was so scared that he stammered, "Captain, I... I can't do it."

The instant he finished speaking, cold light flashed, and another severed hand fell to the ground.

A shriek like a slaughtered pig echoed through the ruined building.

Suren and the other gang members witnessed a bloody gang execution, but it was merely a commonplace little episode in gang life.

The Cross Society's discipline was lax, but once someone violated the gang rules, there was no room for mercy.

Fortunately, losing an arm was not too troublesome in this world. After all, Mechanical Prosthetic technology existed, and even a basic mechanical prosthetic hand only cost ten or twenty thousand. But those two unlucky men had not participated in yesterday's mission and received no bonus, so they would probably have to spend a long time with one hand missing.

At seven in the evening, Kai led everyone on a patrol through the three blocks around Green Street.

Half an hour later, work was over.

The old hands went drinking, or went looking for women, and scattered in a rush.

Suren sat beside the octagonal cage at the Scarlet Bunker again and began another night of gambling.

Perhaps gamblers who did not care about winning or losing were always lucky. Suren won two bets in a row.

However, his bets were not large—one thousand each.

Originally, he had planned to bet evenly on either the Red Side or Blue Side for every match tonight, just as he had yesterday, sparing himself the trouble of placing bets each time.

That method definitely would not make him rich, but based on probability, he would not lose too much either.

Suren had not come to gamble for money in the first place, so he did not particularly care.

But just as he was about to place his bets that way, a bold female voice sounded behind him, seemingly asking him a question.

"Who do you think will win the next round?"

When he turned around, he saw a blue-haired woman with an imposing air, four long swords hanging at her waist.

She walked straight to Suren's side and leaned casually against the railing. Judging by the serious look on her face, she seemed to think this spot offered a clearer view of the octagonal cage. She looked exactly like a gambling-addicted woman.

"Boss Qiantiao?!"

Suren found her familiar. Then, seeing the fierce tattoo on her exposed arm, he recognized her at once. Wasn't this Qiantiao, the Cross Society officer known as Four-Armed Rakshasa?

Although she was not wearing the revealing red leather armor from yesterday, the loose kimono-like dress she wore today still could not conceal her magnificent figure.

Qiantiao seemed slightly surprised by how Suren addressed her. She raised her eyes and looked at him. "Oh? A newcomer?"

Suren nodded. "Yes."

He figured she had probably been friendly because of the "cross" emblem on his clothes.

Qiantiao did not seem to care much about titles. "Like Kai and the others, just call me Sister Chijou."

Suren nodded. "All right, Sister Chijou."

Yet he wondered, What is this officer doing at the Gladiatorial Arena?

Qiantiao's gaze returned to the octagonal cage. She seemed to have a fanatical obsession with gambling.

It looked like she had truly come here specifically to gamble.

She asked again, "I see you seem pretty lucky. Who do you think will win the next match?"

"I can't really tell either."

Suren knew that the two red betting slips in his hand had revealed the fact that he had already won twice in a row.

But his betting was purely a cover. He had come only to harvest corpse Memory Fragments, so how could there be any side he favored?

Qiantiao found his hesitant answer rather unsatisfactory. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "Then which side are you planning to bet on?"

"The Blue Side."

Suren felt that if he chose red again, it would make him seem too perfunctory, so he changed his answer to blue.

To his surprise, the moment Qiantiao heard that, she waved over the betting girl and called loudly, "Here, ten thousand on the Blue Side."

Thanks to old friend '20171123120029246' for the friendly alliance support. I'll definitely write this book well—