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The Laughing Swordsman

Only when all the living perish, will there be peace ... Apollo was a bratty noble. Using the power of his father, he did many mischievous stunts. However, he would never go too far. The worst he did was steal someone's shoe, while on the average, it would be poking them in the back and running off. That's why he found it so absurd that someone would assassinate him, in his own room no less. He was stabbed in the back and left to die... But then he was back in his room, completely fine. Yet, he was stabbed in the back once again. Once he was stabbed in the back for the third time, the cruel reality began to sink in. That this would repeat itself for an eternity. The only thing in his room was his bed and his bokken, a wooden sword. At some point, Apollo picked up the bokken. He took his first steps to break out of the cycle. And swore to bury the person who called for this assassin with his own hands. ...But also calls a lot of things mommy for some reason.

Disgrace · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
372 Chs

That's it?

The guard looked at all of the dead bodies around him and the blood that covered his armor.

"Living in this city is not easy, so long as you are not one of the top few. When some guards find out about a rebellion, they desperately attempt to join it, such as me."

Apollo tilted his head to the side.

"But everyone seems fine."

The guard shrugged his shoulders.

"There is no problem with our livelihood, but just barely surviving is too little to justify the work that we do."

Hare sighed.

"Well, I wouldn't say that we are not given much. It's more so the prices set by the council are simply too unreasonable."

The guard rolled his eyes.

"Is there really a difference between the two?"

Hare laughed.

"I suppose not."

The guard took a deep breath.