novelraw Chapter 270: Put away any misplaced arrogance. We need to change our strategy and win his favor.
Chapter 270: Put away any misplaced arrogance. We need to change our strategy and win his favor.
As Kassadin spoke, three formidable auras erupted from the summit of the small hill at the heart of the Motorbike Instance Center. Everyone simultaneously looked up, their gazes fixed on the top of the hill.
The sources of these auras were located at the apex of the semi-circular building, precisely where the motorbike Full Moon was initially stationed.
Two of the auras were, without a doubt, of Imperial grade. One belonged to Sam, whom Alexander had brought back from Happiness Clinic and who was now under Kassadin’s command.
The other was Terence, a mechanical genius endowed with an innate talent for machinery. Both had achieved Imperial level.
Of course, when it came to combat strength, neither could compare to Edward and Asfur. Edward could easily handle ten like them. But that was beside the point; they didn’t need to engage in combat!
Between the two men was a flesh-and-blood monstrosity, stripped of its consciousness and resembling a terrifyingly grotesque cannon. The aura it emitted was far more potent than any ghost Imperial.
It wasn’t that this dreadful cannon had surpassed the Imperial tier; rather, being a monstrous entity, its mode of attack was significantly different from that of regular ghosts.
Fueled by Ghost Food that Sam and Terence ceaselessly channeled into it, and augmented by Terence’s innate talent, the cannon’s energy levels closely approached those of a Ghost Emperor.
The revelation stunned everyone on Abigail’s side, leaving them aghast. A ghostly cannon! In this world of horror, such a thing was rarer even than Inheritance-grade Ghost Emperors.
In the Six Ghost Realms, with countless ghost cities and at least hundreds of billions of ghost citizens, the number of similarly potent artillery-type monstrosities could be counted on two hands. After all, even if someone had a fondness for tanks and cannons in their lifetime, it would take an obsessive level of love to fuse with one after becoming a ghost!
Should this monstrosity unleash a single shot, its firepower would not be much weaker than that of an average Ghost Emperor. Ghost Imperials would have no choice but to flee, and as for those Ghost Kings? A single shot would obliterate them all.
More importantly, Alexander’s side also had Asfur, Edward, and Kassadin.
Asfur and Edward were extremely strong; if they were to go all out, perhaps some of the Imperial ghosts might indeed lose their lives today. At that moment, several wavering Ghost Imperials seemed prepared to back out.
"Just a mere ghostly cannon! With so many Ghost Imperials present, killing you would be easy! Kassadin and the others are strong, but they’re not enough to keep all of us occupied. The choice is clear—your life or your talent! You must decide today, or no one can save you!"
Abigail, the she-ghost capable of organizing a ghost street alliance, steadied the Imperials with a single sentence. However, as her voice trailed off, a loud shout echoed from the distance:
"Don’t be afraid, Alexander! We’re here! You want to talk about numbers? I’ll show you what it means to be outnumbered! Brothers, come out! Let’s cut them down together!"
With a familiar voice ringing through the air, the semi-circular building atop the small hill opened. Leading the way were Annie and the Electrocuted Ghost, followed closely by the Beheaded Ghost and the Drowned Ghost—over a hundred ghosts burst forth in total!
"Bro, we’ve come to back you up!" yelled the Electrocuted Ghost from a distance.
The Beheaded Ghost, always quick to temper, hurled her head into the sky, sending it flying straight towards Alexander. Instinctively, Alexander caught it by the hair.
With a slight tug from the Beheaded Ghost, her head rotated 180 degrees in Alexander’s hand to face Abigail.
"Abigail, you dare mess with us, the residents of Ghost Apartments? Do you think you can take advantage because Mr. Louis is absent, or because the Blood Queen’s blade has gone dull, or perhaps you think we are easy to pick on?"
Abigail’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull at the sudden appearance of at least a hundred Ghost Kings. All the Ghost Kings in the entire Dark Hell couldn’t amount to this number.
These penniless ghosts from the Ghost Apartments, how had they all ascended to the level of Ghost Kings so quickly? Undoubtedly, Alexander’s talents had some influence.
Abigail’s already crimson pupils deepened in hue. But now, with hundreds of Ghost Kings, an Imperial-grade cannon, and Kassadin and the others for support, even Abigail didn’t dare to act rashly. Taking action now would inevitably result in catastrophic losses.
Just then, the roaring engines of motorbikes filled the air, accompanied by hearty laughter: "Haha, Boss, I’m here! Did you miss me?" Richard, riding a golden bike, and Tony sped toward them from a distance.
Beside him rode a motorcycle ablaze in crimson, its wheels swirling with vermilion fire. Cloaked in molten armor, Su Rong held a lance that looked like flowing lava, its heat pulsating through the air.
Behind them trailed an array of motorcycles, a staggering thousand in number. What was even more astonishing was that every rider on these motorcycles was a ghost king-level entity.
The roar of a thousand bikes shook the entire realm, rustling leaves in the distance with its sonic power.
As one, the motorcycles executed a coordinated tail whip, coming to a stop in front of Alexander.
"Tommy DeVito, I trust I’m not late?"
Behind him, a thousand ghost kings from the Fierce Ghost Association dismounted. All were attired in black suits, donning sunglasses, and carrying chains. In a unified movement, they bowed ninety degrees to Alexander, shouting in unison, "Mr Tommy DeVito!"
No one dared to speak now, not even Abigail.
A thousand ghost kings! And they all rode motorcycles!
Abigail had considered the possibility that Alexander, given his unique talents, would secretly amass his own forces.
But merely a month ago, his might was insignificant; the strongest person by his side was only at a soldier level. Even up to a dozen days ago, the Fierce Ghost Association had only Tony as a ghost king.
Therefore, in Abigail’s mind, the limit for Alexander was nurturing maybe three to five, or at most a dozen ghost kings. But who could have imagined that this man had access to so much Ghost Food and could muster a thousand ghost kings in one go?
These ghost kings may have been hurriedly upgraded, lacking even proper weapons. Yet they had motorcycles! Boosted by these spectral machines, even a princely bike could amplify a ghost king’s power through speed and special features.
Before them stood a hundred ghost kings, three potent ghost Imperials, and a primed Imperial-level cannon infused with ghostly energy. Behind were a thousand Fierce Ghost Association members, each on a motorcycle and each possessing the combat capability of a ghost king.
Could they still fight this?
"I concede today! We’re retreating!" Abigail reluctantly declared.
"Hold on, don’t rush off just yet. I must say, I find that card you’re holding quite intriguing," Alexander said with a smile.
Abigail trembled, her veins popping as she clutched the plunder talent card. After a long moment, she hurled it at Alexander. Faced with the unarguable facts, she had no choice but to compromise.
Had it been anyone else standing before her, even a slightly weaker ghost Imperial, Abigail would have already ordered her men to surge forward and eliminate the opposition.
But the one who stood there was Alexander.
Abigail could claim indifference to his background, but her actions spoke otherwise. Why else would she specifically request her brother and two Ghost Emperors to keep Alice occupied and choose to strike in the absence of Louis?
Originally, Abigail had planned to steal Alexander’s talents and make a quick exit. Killing him was an act she dared not commit.
Angering Louis, a future inheritance Ghost Emperor with forbidden power, would spell her doom even if she fled to the Endless Abyss.
Outmatched and unable to escape, even if she managed to kill Alexander, it would be a pyrrhic victory. Naturally, she had to concede.
"What about the rest of you? You can’t possibly have come all this way for nothing," Alexander’s gaze shifted from Abigail to the others.
"I also admit defeat. Here’s an Imperial-level cleaver," one Imperial finally said, his teeth gritted as he presented the weapon.
Nodding, Alexander took the cleaver and tossed it casually. It soared through the air like a sharp arrow, landing at Sam’s feet.
By accepting this offering, Alexander essentially put a bow on the entire matter. An Imperial-level weapon could never be equated with a plunder talent card.
Yet Alexander harbored no immediate intention of breaking ties with these individuals. A direct confrontation would inevitably lead to sacrifices, which he found unjustifiable. After all, those capable of being trained to Ghost King level in the Fierce Ghost Association were his most trusted men.
Losing them would be a significant blow. What Alexander lacked the most at the moment was not Ghost Food or weapons but manpower. Even if his ultimate plans were unsuccessful, the presence of the Mist Instance ensured he wouldn’t lack Ghost Food.
To lose even one of these trusted subordinates was to lose a future Ghost Emperor—perhaps even a forbidden-powered Ghost Emperor. Alexander might even have to rely on them to lead the innumerable Ghost Realm armies in the future.
So these people were assets he could not afford to lose—not a single one.
Having accepted all the compensations, Alexander looked perplexedly at Abigail, who still stood in place, showing no signs of departure. He coldly asked, "You’re not leaving? Planning for another round?"
"Please don’t misunderstand, Mr. Alexander..." Abigail, for once, showed a smile tinged with mature charm, her tone turning noticeably friendlier.
"We are here to attend the auction. Despite the little misunderstanding, we still intend to participate. You weren’t joking when you said you forgave us, were you?"
Surveying the surprised expression on Abigail and her puzzled crew, Alexander’s face broke into a knowing grin. "Since I’ve accepted your apologies and compensations, there will be no further issues. Please wait here."
With that, he turned around and led his entourage, including Su Rong and Anne, towards the hill. After walking only a few steps, Alexander spoke to Tony at his side: "We can pull our shills out now."
"Why?" Tony looked puzzled. "This auction has no reserve or bidding restrictions. Especially for earlier items like Ghost Cola, Ghost Cigarettes, and beer rights, those Ghost City merchants can be incredibly cunning. Without our shills to drive up the price, who knows how low they could push it?"
Kassadin, following behind, chimed in, "Indeed! Not just the Ghost City merchants, even I’ve been approached by old friends proposing a peaceful bidding war, with a compensation gift for the losing bidder."
"It’s not that we don’t need shills; it’s that we already have them," Alexander shook his head, glancing back at Abigail. "Our own people acting as shills would tarnish our reputation. But they are different."
"You mean they’re staying to act as our shills? Why? These people just came to make trouble and got... educated by you," Tony and Kassadin both expressed their confusion.
"They’re staying to curry favor. Otherwise, there’s no reason for them to swallow their pride and remain at the auction," Su Rong interjected, to which Edward nodded in agreement.
"I see! You’re as clever as ever, my good brother!" Tony feigned enlightenment, although, in reality, he was as puzzled as before.
But as the current leader of the Fierce Ghost Association, he couldn’t afford to lose face. When intelligence falls short, let acting skills fill the gap!
The cloud of incomprehension wasn’t just hovering over Tony; it had also settled upon an Imperial ghost standing beside Abigail.
"Why are we staying, Abigail? Haven’t we lost enough face already?"
"How much is ’face’ worth, anyway?" Abigail retorted, glancing at him. "I initially thought that with his talent, there’s a limit to how high-quality Ghost Food he could produce in such a short time. Turns out, his talent is anomalously monstrous.
In no time at all, he’s assembled this terrifying force. I’m quite sure he’s hoarding a multitude of soldier-grade Ghost Food. The strength of the Fierce Ghost Association may well be beyond our imaginations."
"But what does that have to do with us staying here?" The other ghost was still puzzled.
"Do you think this is the end of the matter? That Alexander is some sort of saint? He’s the Blackbeard of the Dark Hell, you think he would play fair?" Abigail’s words left the ghost speechless.
They had thoroughly investigated Alexander, and had he not been hiding in a sealed instance, they would not have been in the dark about his true power. Knowing who he is, Abigail’s comment shut down any counter-arguments.
This is the infamous pirate of the Dark Hell we’re talking about. When has he ever shown mercy? Just ask those unfortunate Instance Masters on his list.
"Let’s not think we’ve been put at a disadvantage here. Remember our original aim," Abigail said with a smile, facing the confused expressions of her companions.
"We initially came for Alexander’s talent, but it has far surpassed my estimations. In just the past couple of weeks, he’s managed to cultivate thousands of ghost kings and several Imperials.
At this rate, not just the Dark Hell or Endless Abyss, but the entire world of horror will fall under his dominion. If we can’t get a hold of his talent, and his talent is this overpowering, why not take this opportunity to get on his good side—or even join him outright?
With the current strength of the Fierce Ghost Association, it won’t be long before they outgrow even a place as vast as Dark Hell. They will inevitably need a large workforce, and that’s an opportunity for us.
Put away any misplaced arrogance. The future, with his monstrous talents, belongs to him. We need to change our strategy and win his favor."