Chapter 73: District 7 Anold Street

Atlas supported himself and stood erect, bones cracking and stiff joints nourishing in a long, relaxing stretch.

"Oh crap! I forgot about Percy and Nova!" Atlas slapped his head abruptly, remembering the existence of two living person.

Atlas turned back, only to see Nova reading the manuscripts he has earlier handpicked while scavenging for more.

Nova shut the manuscript close, leering at Atlas. "Keeping the good stuff for yourself eh? Glad I finished forty or so seconds before you, giving me time to discover these good stuff."

"Don't draw to conclusions. As the humble and honest person I am, I would never keep some incredibly useful techniques to myself. I was helping to sort out the gist amongst all the others." Atlas defended himself, picking up one of the manuscripts he chose that was lying open on the floor and passed it to Nova. "Ah, see. Sharing is caring."

Nova resisted a laugh, throwing it back at Atlas. "I've seen that one. Doesn't suit my style."

Atlas nodded. "Where Percy?"

"I heard him whisper something about not wanting to fly away. There's a hatch over there that leads to some stairs. He went up right after you ate the Ascension Pill." Nova shivered at that name and so did Atlas, captured by Nova. "Looks like you experienced some of that healthy torture too."

"No sh*t." Atlas couldn't help but to curse. "Felt like I was about to implode."

"Same." Nova grimaced from a simple reminder of the pain.

Carrying the manuscripts they decided to keep, Atlas and Nova retreated from the underground bunker.

"Boss, Percy said you..." Blackbear's jaws dropped right as he saw Atlas. The presence around Atlas is more concealed than before, enveloped in an unfathomable cloak. Nova came out with the same ambience, his Aura unable to be detected.

Hugh shook his head, backing away as he sighed. "You guys are creeps. I don't even understand how you do this."

"I am certain you guys did drugs." Fatsoy said in admiration. One Tier sounds easy to pass but is in fact terribly difficult, especially when you are an Axonn.

Atlas clenched his fist, cracking his knuckles. A seventeen year old Tier 4 Axonn? There's no way that he does not top the list of most talented Warriors, even when compared to the geniuses there are in the Capital City.

"Vanellope." Atlas whispered as he gripped tight. One step closer to rescuing Kristine.

No matter how many scars, no matter how much it breaks me, I'm taking you back, Vanellope.

All this is dedication to rise to the top! One day, I will arrive before you with such power, and you shall tell your family and your friends, that you can proudly make your own decisions, for as I, Atlas, will have qualified with flying colors.

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Vendors busily set out and set up their respective stalls efficiently, getting ready for a brisk night of business.

Large rainbow-colored parasols used to shield the morning and afternoon sunlight have been replaced with grandiloquent neon lights dappling the dark, attracting the attention of passersby.

A group of youngsters strolled across the night market street, wielding clubs and bats, chattering incoherently.

In faded blue jeans paired with a cheaply patched shirt, a middle aged man with distinct features limped towards his stand, a gorgeous young lady with flawless skin holding his arm gently.

Sitting down, concentration sparked in his eyes as he laid his rough hands onto the blocks of wood on his stand. Raising his hands, he began landing solid strikes on one of the wooden blocks with the callused side of his hands, chopping and sculpting engrossingly. The beautiful young lady received the work of him, giving it finishing touches by washing it cleanly or painting it exquisitely with a delicate paintbrush.

The smooth colors and the wooden texture went perfectly together like the brilliant work of professionals.

Lots of attention have now drawn towards where wonderful artworks are being produced, changing the tide of the traffic in the hectic streets.

However, not all attention were picked up by the artistry, instead lured by the young lady's beauty.

In the long term, the busyness remained constant as profitable bargains and aroma of food reigned the air.

Businesses gradually flourished as more people came to hang out at this famous hot spot— District 7 Anold Street.

"What a good night to collect protection fee!" With a several earrings on both side of his ears, one of the youngsters wielding a bat sighed with excitement.

"Cheer up big Brother Reb! After we're done, we can revel at the nearby red light district. I heard that there are newcomers at Paradise." Another youngster with his hair dyed orange said to the gloomy youngster beside him in mild respect.

Reb nodded uninterestedly, his face still soaked in worry.

His father is a rising squadron leader in a local gang, handling the area around here. Is this gang small? No, it's actually pretty well-known. But the Rent Family is a massive target worth riding coattails. Or else how could he be able to attend BeiLing School, a top private school, if it weren't for him coincidentally meeting Bob and making friends with him.

He father told him some shocking news a while ago, which to him, is instead haunting.

The Rent Family is over. Barnes Rent has perished. His son, Bob Rent has disappeared.

The last time he can recall of himself seeing Bob, is when a boy who called himself Atlas showed up, destroyed his bodyguard and took him away as ransom or some other deed.

He was one of the drunk boys. One of the boys who taunted the teenager who destroyed the Rent Family.

How can he not fear? What if he's gone after?

"Where are we headed today?" Reb grunted lowly, trying to sound positive at the same time.

"To a handcraft carpenters stall. Hey Reb, I heard that that old man has a beautiful young daughter. I've only seen her once, but boy, my heart stopped. She comes here to help her dad during the weekend." One of them offered, motioning Reb towards the crowd.