Axe

Given my current assets, refraining from impulsively purchasing villas already reflects a commendable restraint against extravagance.

After a round of haggling, I left the marketplace with an abundance of complimentary items. The sky had darkened considerably, and I had no intention of lingering on the streets for long. Just as I sought a secluded corner to retrieve my mode of transportation from the space card of the Book of Demons, an overwhelming sense of crisis caused my pores to tighten.

"An enemy!"

A tall figure emerged at a street corner, approximately seventy to eighty meters away, shrouded in layers that made it immediately clear that the threat originated from this individual.

Regrettably, my instincts were too acute; he had no opportunity to approach and ambush me. I had no intention of waiting for him to draw closer to exchange pleasantries. Abandoning my original plan, I waved at a passing taxi. Before it could come to a complete stop, I witnessed the tall figure suddenly accelerate, hurling an object that shattered a significant portion of the taxi's window.

The taxi driver erupted in outrage: "That son of a gun smashed my car!" His reaction completely derailed my plan to escape the impending danger.

The imposing figure rushed forward like a whirlwind, delivering a swift kick to the protruding taxi driver, sending the unfortunate man tumbling back into the vehicle. Faced with an unavoidable confrontation, I quietly recited a couple of quick spells, activating the functions of my tenfold strength and perfect accuracy cards.

Although my opponent was seasoned in combat, I was no pushover. Moreover, his outstretched arms clearly indicated his intention to capture me alive, granting me a moment to adjust my tactics. Channeling the nameless martial arts technique into my legs, I pivoted and executed a diagonal kick that struck him squarely in the chest.

Masters of martial arts emphasize the art of fluidity and control, and while I lacked their level of finesse, I managed to temper the force of my kick. On Demon Island, anything went; it was a legal void and far from a normal world. However, the ground beneath me was that of a lawful nation, and a brave youth kicking someone to death in the street would undoubtedly make headlines and prompt a wanted notice. Even so, my kick sent the assailant sprawling, and in the taxi driver's astonished gaze, I seized the attacker and executed a swift counter-capture before fleeing with all possible speed.

The assailant was quite formidable, though not as massive as the Wolf King; he was at least larger than the likes of Hachi Jingshu. Carrying him with both hands, I realized it was impossible to also manage the latest ultra-light and silent laptop I had just purchased—the little device would certainly be considered a mere trifle by the taxi driver.

Even if the driver were to find it, I wouldn't dare claim it. Though our skirmish was brief, its intensity was remarkable, and I was certain that if the driver reported the incident to the media, he would embellish the tale. I had no desire to be questioned by reporters about how many bricks I could break with a single punch.

Being a newsworthy figure might not be particularly enjoyable, but it was tolerable. However, becoming a subject of sensationalism was something I would rather avoid. My experiences on Demon Island were excessively thrilling, instilling in me a strong resentment toward the notion of living an ordinary life.

"Tell me, why did you attack me?"

Searching for a secluded alley, I found that such tasks were far easier to accomplish in the evening than during the day. Familiar with the city I had grown up in, I located an undisturbed spot in just seven minutes.

As I tossed the assailant to the ground, his hat rolled off, revealing his face. I was taken aback to discover that he was the mixed-race man I had been preoccupied with, and his words made it clear that our relationship was more than a mere coincidence.

"You don't remember me? I am Axe!"

"Axe? The underworld assassin who killed Fang Baichuan?"

I instantly compared my memories of the man before me, but they seemed irreconcilable.

The mixed-race man chuckled softly, "That's right; I've had plastic surgery, so it's no surprise you don't recognize me. But how did you return from that place?"

"That's none of your business. Do you believe I won't kill you? Your current skills are nothing to me."

I had finally established a connection between the mixed-race man and my foreseen future, yet many uncertainties remained. My words lacked elegance, as I was reluctant to break the law, but I had no qualms about confronting someone capable of wreaking havoc in my life and drawing the ire of the underworld. I was willing to take a risk this once.

When it came to the question of whether I would die or someone else would, my choice was straightforward. I felt no fear of Axe; rather, I was intrigued by his curiosity: "It's only been a short while since we last met, yet you've gained such formidable skills. That place truly is mysterious and enticing."

"You are mistaken. Some matters are indeed of great concern to me, particularly those that pertain to my life."

Having clarified my thoughts, I finally inquired, "Are you still being hunted by that fellow named Guan? If you've undergone such drastic changes, why not flee far away?"

"Believe me, I wish I could escape, but Guan's subordinates are formidable. No matter how far I run, I can't shake them off, so I've had to hide back in this city."

"When I saw you that day, I hoped to retrieve that item and present it to Guan in exchange for my life."

I furrowed my brow and asked, "Do you even know what that item is? How could you expect to recover it?"

Axe replied helplessly, "I only know that it possesses miraculous abilities and can transport one to a mysterious place. As for the specifics, how would I know? Ultimately, I'm just a lackey."

Suddenly, I felt a pang of sympathy for this man. However, how to deal with Axe posed a dilemma. Killing him was not in my nature, yet leaving him alive would invite numerous complications, especially since these troubles were beyond my capacity to handle. Even if I were magnanimous enough to shoulder the burdens of this stranger, I would be unable to bear the weight.

An organization capable of possessing a wish fruit could not merely be a regional gang; even if it weren't as ruthless as the Rock Group, it must at least be an international entity. The most basic wish fruit would be valued at a minimum of ten million dollars, and amassing such a sum through the collection of protection fees from a few hundred small-time thugs would take a century. Moreover, this was not Demon Island, where problems could be resolved solely through combat.