Justice Is Served

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1. A Multiverse Journey Starts By Stealing The Codex Of Life

2. Demon King's Multiverse Adventures

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Elder's voice trembled with disbelief as he listened to the report from his servants. It was hard for him to accept that five hundred highly trained individuals, equipped with top-of-the-line gear, had been effortlessly eliminated by a mysterious "ball of lightning" the previous night. These individuals were supposed to be the elite of the special forces, yet they hadn't even managed to uncover the truth before their untimely demise.

"What is this lightning?" the elder asked Sloan, who had been brought before him, wearing an expression of displeasure. "Is it the work of the Assassin Brotherhood?"

Sloan shook his head, his gaze steady. "Certainly not. If it were, I wouldn't be standing here in front of you."

The elder raised an eyebrow. "And let's not forget that the Assassins possess extraordinary abilities that defy scientific explanation. You're well aware of that."

Sloan glanced at the elder. "The Destiny Loom, arc shooting, and repair fluid, along with Carlos's unique super-long-range sniper skills... that's all there is to it."

It seemed that Sloan was conscious of the impact the Assassins' actions had on the laws of physics. He then questioned the elder again, "And speaking of this lightning... you genuinely have no guesses?"

The elder gazed at Sloan for a moment, sighed, and waved his hand, signaling his subordinates to bring forth a simple bronze box. Placing it before them, he opened it and revealed two faded parchments.

"This is it," the elder said, his voice tinged with mystery.

On the parchment, despite the faded and blurred images, one could discern a hooded assassin wielding a sword that emitted electricity, locked in a confrontation with a heavily armored individual holding a spherical object.

Sloan's eyes widened in surprise. Although he had access to ancient books, he had never come across such a scene before.

"This depicts an Assassin and a Templar," the elder explained, reaching into the lower compartment of the case and opening it. "And what they hold in their hands... one, I surmise, is what caused that lightning. The other one is what I hold now."

"The Apple of Eden," he stated, taking out a metal ball slightly larger than his palm and cradling it in his hand.

"However, I have no idea how to use it," the elder confessed, examining the Apple of Eden. "I always believed it to be a mere antique, but now... perhaps this artifact has other purposes?"

"Who knows?" Sloan replied, narrowing his eyes slightly, feigning indifference.

The elder chuckled. "Sloan Kenway, do you realize that it's too late?"

Sloan was taken aback. "I don't understand the meaning behind your words," he responded calmly.

"I know what you're plotting. Your powers may have diminished, while I remain unharmed. You intend to make me suffer a loss, don't you?" The elder instructed his attendant to bring a tray, which contained scattered metal parts.

"I'm well aware of the threat posed by the Knights Templar, especially after witnessing that peculiar lightning," the elder explained as he began assembling the parts. "The loss of five hundred lives doesn't concern me. What does concern me is how effortlessly the other party dealt with them and the hidden forces supporting them."

"I refuse to believe that people like them have formed the Knights Templar," he continued, joining the parts together. "Moreover, I understand how highly regarded the High Table is in their hearts. If someone were to take the lead and I couldn't suppress them immediately, it's only natural for our power to shift to the other side. It's reminiscent of what happened with [Hawkeye] and [Mole] in New York City."

"While I'm not entirely certain, it would be peculiar if I didn't possess the powers described in ancient legends, especially when the other party does," the elder reasoned.

The final parts clicked into place, completing the assembly.

The elder picked up the successfully assembled metal device and fastened it to his right hand. When he extended his palm, Sloan noticed that the elder's ring finger was missing.

Securing it, the mechanism sprang to life, and a sharp blade extended from it.

The Hidden Blade!

"Although times have changed, as a master assassin, you are worthy of meeting your demise by the Hidden Blade, Sloan Kenway," the elder declared, rising from his seat and approaching Sloan. "I will ask you one final time: Do you know how to use the Apple of Eden?"

"..."

.....

"Are you ready?" Jack asked, adjusting his tie with a confident smile.

"I'm a little nervous..." Edward shrugged, his brow furrowed with a mix of anxiety and excitement. "Even though I'm the president of a multinational pharmaceutical company, I've never spoken in front of the public in all 50 states of the United States. It feels like I could be rejected in the next second, and the whole world would know about it."

Jack chuckled reassuringly. "Don't worry, your eloquence is impeccable. Just speak from your heart and share your genuine experiences."

Edward sighed, contemplating the situation. "I suppose you're right. It's not like I haven't said similar things before. But this time, it's different. The scale is massive, and the number of people who will hear me is overwhelming."

The two of them found themselves in a bustling live broadcast room, surrounded by government personnel meticulously fine-tuning the equipment. The anticipation in the air was palpable.

"Get ready, because this news broadcast is going to take over every TV station in the United States!" Jack exclaimed, excitement dancing in his eyes.

.....

Meanwhile, on the vibrant streets near the New York Continental Hotel, whispers floated in the air.

"Did you hear what happened last night?"

"Yeah, who would've thought the Continental Hotel would break away from the high table?"

"The high table getting into a fight... that's something you don't see every day."

"It's thrilling, isn't it?"

"Hush! Keep your voice down, you don't want them coming after you."

"Relax, this is the Continental Hotel's turf, not the High Table's."

Passers-by hurriedly traversed the road, their conversations brimming with curiosity and intrigue. The news of the Continental Hotel's rebellion against the High Table had spread like wildfire, becoming the talk of the town.

As they trod upon the pavement, they couldn't help but notice faint traces of dark red stains—a haunting reminder of the violence that had unfolded. Yet, instead of fear, there was an odd sense of exhilaration in the air.

After all, that blood belonged to the High Table's minions!

The reversal of power at the New York Continental Hotel had rattled the High Table, prompting them to dispatch their enforcers for a cleanup operation. But to everyone's astonishment, it had backfired, resulting in a resounding defeat.

And the people reveling in this news, aside from a few who simply delighted in the misfortune of others, were mostly individuals burdened with pent-up resentment, anger, and unfulfilled desires.

The atmosphere crackled with an electric mix of emotions—joy, relief, and a sense of justice prevailing. It was as if a collective sigh of relief had finally found its release.

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