Demon Hunter and His Cabin
Chapter 313 - Chapter 313 Chapter 313 The Powerful Weakling

Chapter 313: Chapter 313: The Powerful Weakling Chapter 313: Chapter 313: The Powerful Weakling “Mist?”

As they watched the wisps of mist surging outside the window behind Roger, everyone quietly pondered the implicit meaning hidden behind the word.

“Does it represent the place he comes from, or the origin of his power?”

No one met each other’s gaze, and it was clear no one knew what the others were thinking.

“I am The Faceless.”

The woman sitting opposite Roger spoke.

“I am Black Soul.”

This was the man in the black robe.

“Paladin.”

The speaker was a burly man with a rough voice; Roger gave him a special glance–these Otherworldly Visitors were all as strange as they come.

It was rare to come across one who seemed to walk in the light.

“Ha ha, Mr. Mist, don’t be misled by his name.”

“Could someone please explain the rules here to me?”

Roger’s gaze swept over the faces of the crowd as he observed everyone closely–so brazenly that it could be described as unabashed.

But considering what had happened earlier, no one spoke up to stop him; when faced with the mysterious and unknown, everyone preferred to wait and see.

“I’ll explain.”

The Faceless volunteered.

“We are Otherworldly Visitors from different worlds, who have, with difficulty, found a place to belong in this world.”

The Faceless laughed softly.

“We have taken over the identities of the original owners of our bodies, fooling even the closest of lovers and friends, yet the one thing we cannot fool is the world itself.”

“Every half a month, we hold a meeting to exchange the information we hold, to share what we have, and to avoid certain disasters in advance.”

“If necessary, we can also trade privately.”

“Given everyone’s position within this small group, we may not be able to become friends, but at the very least, let’s not become enemies.”

The Faceless seemed to imply something more.

Roger nodded, realizing that Dickinson had indeed withheld information from him; the so-called meetings were actually held every half month. And before he was involved, Dickinson might have already alerted the others.

Moreover, because of the entire Misty World in between, others couldn’t gauge Roger’s soul aura and strength fluctuations accurately.

With their defenses up, no one wanted to speak rashly.

“The rules seem reasonable; I’m willing to accept them,”

Roger said with a smile, “but I hope that next time, no one will try to attack me again.”

After this interlude, the meeting quickly returned to normal. Roger sat quietly in his chair, arms crossed, his wide robe encompassing his whole body without revealing a hint of skin.

From their conversation, he could roughly discern the areas of activity for a few of them–most were concentrated in Europe. It seemed that only Abraham was located in Armenia, while there were fewer from other places.

It appeared that the founders of this organization had started their activity in Europe, but no one was willing to reveal the specific area.

“It’s been a while since I saw the Soul Devourer. Every so often, he tricks a newcomer into joining us, then gets us to collaborate with him.”

“Although it gets a bit boring after happening so many times, ultimately there’s still a little benefit in it.”

Upon hearing someone mention Dickinson, Roger couldn’t help but perk up his ears.

“That guy’s dead,” Black Soul said coldly.

“How would you know?”

A mocking voice sounded, “As if you were there.”

Black Soul remained silent, “Believe it or not, he’s dead anyway.”

“And what about the one standing behind him?”

“The real Soul Devourer.”

Someone asked curiously.

“Who knows? Maybe he ran away, maybe he’s dead. Things like this happen every day. There’s nothing worth discussing,”

“I’ve also noticed that the recent anomalies have become more frequent, some of which are even tied to Dark Power.”

“Could this be an opportunity for us?”

“I have noticed no anomalies,” the Paladin replied.

“Business as usual.”

“No anomalies.”

“No anomalies.”

“Is it just my illusion?”

“Forget it, I’ll keep observing for a while longer.”

The crowd continued to exchange information.

As time ticked away, Roger remained seated in his chair, silent. He had never heard many of the messages being exchanged, but they still greatly enlightened him by association.

Just then, a man sitting in the corner lifted his head, surprising Roger. Only when the man’s gaze fell on him did he realize that such a person was present in the room.

“Such terrifying concealment abilities.”

He was clearly sitting right in front of him, yet one would subconsciously overlook him. If such a skill were used for assassination…

“This one… Mr. Mist.”

The man spoke, making no effort to introduce himself to Roger, who noticed that the man’s face bore no mask.

Without make-up or hiding, he boldly revealed his true face to everyone.

Was this a strong confidence that no one would find him, or a confidence that even if someone did, they could do nothing to him?

“Having listened for so long, why not join us?”

“Do you have any news by your side, any confusions in life? Here, you can communicate freely about anything.”

The man was of average looks, middle-aged, with pale skin, no beard, and roughly in his mid-thirties. His physique had nothing special to mention.

He was wearing just an ordinary plaid shirt.

He was too ordinary, like attending a class reunion at an ordinary school.

“No.”

Roger shook his head.

“I have nothing I want to exchange.”

“Humph!”

The middle-aged man let out a cold laugh.

“Dear Mr. Mist, is it that you don’t want to, or you dare not?”

The corners of the man’s mouth lifted, a hint of mockery in his eyes.

“Although I don’t know what method you used to completely conceal your mental fluctuations and soul aura…”

“It makes you seem mysterious.”

“And often, mystery tends to imply strength.”

“Tsk, tsk.”

The man shook his head.

“But I don’t think so.”

“You’ve hidden your face, your body, all your traits.”

“It’s not because you’re strong…”

“It’s because you’re weak!”

The moment the man finished speaking, the expressions of everyone in the room changed, and all eyes turned to Roger.

“Seems there’s some truth to that.”

Black Soul murmured, the look he gave Roger now tinted with a hint of suspicion.

Everyone here had something to hide, but such concealment was measured, and only Roger, out of caution, subconsciously hid all his information.

It was precisely this caution that exposed his level of strength.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, as Roger struggled to keep his breathing steady, preventing even his heartbeat from fluctuating too much.

He had considered too much but hadn’t anticipated this final point, which had now become his loophole.

Thoughts raced through his mind, but Roger couldn’t think up a better response. During his silence, the looks from others began to change.

Just then, he caught a bit of noise by his ear. Roger was startled at first, then quickly regained his composure.

“Heh heh.”

He chuckled lightly and leaned back in his seat.

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

Sudden violent sounds assaulted them, buildings outside collapsed, and the mist rolled backward as a giant foot descended from the sky.

Despite being worlds apart and tens of thousands of miles away, the primordial strength left a deep impression in everyone’s minds.

Roger stood up, his silhouette overlapping with the giant foot outside the window. He shook his head nonchalantly.

“You all are truly boring.”

With that, he stopped the ritual and his figure vanished from the spot.