Life Game In Other World
Chapter 83: That’s My Brother in Arms (Please Favorite, Follow, and Vote for the Monthly Ticket)

Chapter 83: Chapter 83: That’s My Brother in Arms (Please Favorite, Follow, and Vote for the Monthly Ticket)

The wrapping was clean on the inside, bloodstained on the outside, and then he gripped the cane handle with the wrapped hand, forcefully pulling the ’sword’ out.

The burly man’s body stiffened for a moment, then he collapsed to the ground with a thud.

He Ao stepped back two paces, walking step by step back to his original standing spot.

The bright red blood flowed down the silver blade, gradually leaving, leaving only the cold gleam behind.

This sword did not stick to blood.

When, years ago, Regit had no hope of curing his leg, he found an ’Ironsmith’ from the underground world and used all his savings to forge this sword, hidden inside his cane. This was also why He Ao, after getting home and retrieving his cane, never left it out of his reach.

Strictly speaking, this ’sword’ couldn’t exactly be called a sword in the traditional sense, it was double-edged, thicker at the top and sharper at the bottom, and it was not long, looking somewhat like a short sword or a ’dagger’.

In use, thrusting vertically was more effective than slashing horizontally.

Of course, both He Ao and Regit referred to it as a ’sword’.

Compared to firearms and machinery, cold steel weapons provided a greater sense of security to Regit, who had practiced martial arts his whole life.

Once the blood on the blade had dried, He Ao used the cloth in his hand to wipe the handle clean, then inserted the blade back into the ’cane body’ he had placed upright on the ground.

A crisp click sounded as the catch on the handle locked into the depression on the cane body.

It had once again become a plain-looking wooden cane.

He Ao crouched down to pick up the cigarette butt he had just dropped on the ground and threw it into a nearby trash can.

Then, leaning on his cane, he walked over to the burly man and took a twenty federal coin from his pocket, casually tossing it out.

That was for buying bullets.

Martial arts are killing techniques, when you truly want to kill someone, fast, accurate, ruthless, one move could be fatal.

Any delay in time is an opportunity for the opponent to kill you.

He Ao, leaning on his cane, stepped over the bodies on the ground, walking out of the alley.

He had retaliated only when the opposition drew their guns, ready to kill him.

In Yi Jiali’s words, according to the laws of Dawn City, it was self-defense, just that there were a bit too many people he defended himself against.

He lit another cigarette, tucked it into his mouth, then buttoned up his coat.

Although he had tried his best to avoid it, some blood had still splattered onto him, but it wasn’t conspicuous.

The afternoon sunlight drenched his aged cheeks, casting a long shadow behind him.

He had to deal with these assassins arranged by Najia; otherwise, they would interfere with his subsequent actions.

Tick-tock—

The insistent ring of a phone call sounded again, and He Ao answered the phone.

"Elderly gentleman, Najia’s current location has been sent to you by text," Christos’s voice came through the phone, "We will update his location in real-time. May I presume to ask why you need his information?"

"It’s nothing but an Old Geezer’s vendetta."

He Ao opened his bracelet, clicking on the image he had just captured from the video, which displayed Najia following the Mayor into the reception room.

But He Ao’s gaze was drawn to the corner, to the middle-aged man with glasses slowly closing the door.

Regit wasn’t particularly close to this man, but he had remained forever in his memory.

Twenty-four years ago, it was this man who had secretly shot and shattered Regit’s leg from behind.

After the incident, he had immediately fled the gang and vanished, and for a long time, Regit believed he had left Dawn City.

Everything had come full circle.

"Sorry," realizing he had asked a question he shouldn’t have, Christos quickly added, "Is there anything else you need my help with?"

Upon hearing this, He Ao shifted his gaze to the side, to another alley where filthy little tents were set up amidst the filth, several dirty children cautiously peering at him from behind the tents.

The recent gunshot couldn’t disturb them; they were long accustomed to it.

Unconsciously, he had arrived in Aston District again.

——

The slender driver with glasses opened the car door and sat in the driver’s seat.

Outside the car door, a young man’s eyes widened, staring intently at the driver, blood seeping from his chest, eyes staring blankly.

It was the young man who had gone to He Ao’s house to steal in the morning.

The driver slowly closed the car door, obscuring the view from outside.

"I’ll go over and take a look right now,"

The dignified and elderly man in the back seat hung up the communication and looked to the driver in the front, "To the Research Institute."

"Okay."

The driver nodded slightly, and began to turn the steering wheel.

"Did that Old Geezer arrange for someone over there?"

The Elderly asked softly.

"He arranged for five experienced, bloodstained killers, as well as the new defector to us, the ’Furious Man’ of F grade."

The driver responded slowly, "At his peak, that Old Geezer was only F grade, so this time it should be foolproof."

"It seems I won’t need to take action then; I really wanted to see the look on his face when he sees you and me standing together."

A smile appeared on the Elderly’s face, "Unfortunately, he’s always been a loser, even if he can stir public opinion, threaten the Mayor, in the end, he’s just a pitiful loser with nothing."

The driver didn’t respond; back then, he was just working for money.

"You’ve followed me for so many years,"

The Elderly in the back seat slowly raised his hand, revealing a small silver box from his palm; the box’s lid was opened slightly, showing a corner of folded parchment,

"I’ve secured what you wanted; after this storm passes, it’ll be yours."

The driver glanced at the silver box in the Elderly’s hand through the rearview mirror, then looked away, remaining silent.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened just a bit.

Najia put away the box, casually sliding it into his coat, his face breaking into a smile.

It was the condescending smile of a ’controller’.

The car stopped at a traffic light.

A double-decker bus also slowed to a stop beside the black sedan.

The silver-haired Elderly, holding a cane, rolled down the window, glancing at the black sedan below.

Sitting inside the sedan, Najia felt a pang, opened the window to look up, but he only saw the closed window of the bus.

Then the traffic light changed, and the vehicles moved on.

"Brother, I notice you’ve been eyeing that car; what’s up? Something wrong?"

Right after He Ao rolled up the window, a curious greeting came from beside him.

It came from an Elderly man around fifty years old sitting in the seat next to him.

"There’s an old friend of mine in that car. We’ve been classmates since middle school, and he’s not far from death now," He Ao said casually.

"Is he seriously ill? No wonder you’re so concerned about that car," said the Elderly man with a sigh, "After all, a friend of so many years."

"Yes," He Ao rolled down the window, watching the black sedan getting farther away from the bus, "He’s my sworn brother; we both deeply care about each other’s life and death."