Chapter 8 — Night of Massacre
The door creaked as a grunt left a wooden hut while shouting, “You bitch!
“Not using your mouth, huh? You should feel thankful that I’m not punishing you since you can earn our boss a bit of money with your body!”
The grunt turned into an alley and was about to pee in the corner. Toilets were basically non-existent in the slums, and human excrement was all over the alleys. The hygiene was even worse than London in the 19th century, thus nobles or other rich people would never step into the slums. Even the guards could not be bothered with patrolling there.
The people in the slums were left to fend for themselves.
“Damn! I’ll make you regret it someday!”
He felt a chilling breeze behind his neck just after venting his anger verbally. Before the grunt could reach for his weapon, a hand covered his mouth, and a dagger sliced his throat. Blood gushed out like a fountain and sprayed all over the place. The shadow held the bleeding man in place until the grunt stopped convulsing and stopped resisting.
Soran appeared from the shadows like a reaper. He would not show the faintest trace of mercy to his enemies once he had decided to fight. If not for his merciless personality, he would not have been able to become a Legendary Rogue.
He dragged the corpse into another alley while leaving a bloody trail, but it was unnoticeable as darkness covered everything up.
“Where’s Cabal?” another one of Gale’s thugs said angrily. “He’s taking half a day just to pee for god’s sake!
“The head’s looking for him!”
The thug looked around and sensed that something was off. He participated in the fight several days ago, and he could tell that Cabal might have been killed. He warily unsheathed his short sword and approached the alley.
The stench of blood drifted in the air.
The thug’s expression darkened immediately, and he was about to shout for reinforcements, but the shadows seemingly distorted before he could.
A dagger pierced his heart from the back while a strong arm choked his neck. His screams were silenced, and the thug was soon dead.
“Successfully hidden in the shadows!”
“Successfully activated Backstab*2, dealing 16 damage to the target!”
“Extracting soul energy from target… Received 30 Slaughter Experience Points.”
Soran dragged the second corpse of the night into the alley.
The stench of blood in the air was strong after killing two of Gale’s men. The nearby residents knew that it was going to be a rough night and slammed their doors and windows shut.
Soran pulled out another dagger and was now dual-wielding.
He reeked of blood.
Hiding was pointless—his enemies would soon discover his location.
There were only a handful of skilled fighters in the gangs, and those who had levelled up their professions were even less. Preemptively killing two of them was good enough already.
Using the nearby walls as footholds, Soran leapt onto the roof of the building next to him.
Having 20 points in Dexterity allowed him to move around without making any noise. He plucked a tile off the roof and tossed it to the ground, alerting the men inside the building.
Three men exited the building with weapons in their hands. The leader of the three was Gallas, whom he’d met earlier. Gallas briefly scanned the area and ordered the men to head toward the alley Soran dumped the bodies in.
A mournful shriek resounded through the streets.
Soran launched himself at one of the men like an eagle, slicing the unfortunate man all the way from his neck to his waist from behind. The assassin swiftly stuck the other dagger into his skull from under his chin.
Soran showed absolutely no remorse.
He plucked his dagger from the dead body and sent the corpse flying with a kick, then threw the dagger straight at the second man. It landed in his chest and pierced his heart.
The warrior pulled out his longsword and slashed at Soran from above. “Are you mad!?”
Clang! Soran drew ghostly lines in the air as he parried the incoming attacks.
“You guys should never have tried laying your hands on Vivian.
“This is why I will be sending you all on a one-way trip to hell!”
Soran understood that rogues were not supposed to fight warriors head on, thus he would be at a disadvantage if the fight dragged on. He sidestepped as he sliced Gallas’ torso with his dagger after the warrior’s three-hit move ended.
Gallas was a careful person. Ever since his life as an adventurer ended, he would wear leather armor even while sleeping. The tough leather was not something a mere dagger could cut through.
But that only meant that Soran had to attack the unprotected areas.
Blood oozed out of Gallas’ waist.
The injured warrior covered the wound with his hand, but he soon felt a sense of numbness.
Gallas was sure that Soran had not received any formal combat training, but he somehow managed to spot the weakness in his swordplay, which was taught by the military.
Perhaps the previous ‘Soran’ did not know anything about military swordplay, but the current Soran was extremely familiar with Gallas’ sword style.
Including the advanced styles like the Cross Sword Style, White Raven Sword Style, and Reverse Slash Sword Style, Soran knew almost every single move taught in the military. He would not have been able to become a Legendary Rogue who had once fought in hundreds of battles if he was not knowledgeable about his opponents’ moves. Gallas, who was just a random grunt in the slums, would only be able to learn the basic military styles unless he could somehow afford to pay the expensive learning fees or met someone who would willingly teach him.
The sword style Gallas knew allowed him to use the skill Heavy Hack and increased his basic Accuracy by 3 points.
Sparks spewed as the weapons clashed.
Soran sidestepped once again, this time in an unusual manner. He was behind Gallas the next moment, and he sent the dagger into the warrior’s neck, severing the cervical vertebrae.
The Gallas’ lifeless body dropped to the ground with a thud.
Soran gasped for fresh air before muttering, “It is a befitting end for a warrior like you to be able to die from my Shadowstep.”
This was the ability of a Legendary Rogue.
However, the current Soran could not control the shadows. The true Shadowstep was a skill with which a rogue would traverse through the plane of shadows and appear behind the enemy. What he did a while ago was just a mimic; using his Dexterity and ability to hide in the shadows, Soran played tricks on Gallas’ vision and went around to the former adventurer’s back without the target noticing. After becoming a Legendary Rogue, Soran could fully grasp the working principles of shadows, allowing him to use the power of shadows to cast spells or make unexpected moves against his enemies. If not for his 20 points in Dexterity, he would not have been able to kill the grunts so easily.
Three more men dropped dead on the ground in less than two minutes.
All the residents were hiding in their houses, while the prostitutes were shivering in fear with their doors shut.
Soran picked up a corpse on the ground and slammed through the front door of the target building. There were plenty of people who belonged to factions, but the only ones who mattered were the core members and leaders. The weaklings who were simply used to beef up the number of members were so weak that Soran could easily massacre them like chopping up vegetables. Most people who had levelled up their combat professions could easily fight against ten commoners at the same time and still win.
A crossbow bolt went flying toward Soran, but the meat shield in his hands blocked it. The dead body shuddered as the bolt struck, and Soran immediately released the shield, which had served its purpose. He ran sideways on the wall for three steps before jumping at the startled opponents.
The thugs were awe-struck by the inhuman display of skill, and it cost them their lives.
Before they could react, two of them were holding their throats in pain as blood gushed out from wide wounds.
Soran’s reflexes were almost cheat-like as he dodged an incoming slash by mere millimeters then counterattacked by sending a chair flying straight at the attacker. He locked the arms of the enemy in front of him and cut his tendons and muscles in a series of slashes. The dancing dagger sliced a half-inch wound on the man’s throat as he yelled in pain.
Soran lightly kicked the crossbow lying on the ground into the air and swiftly reloaded it. He then slammed open the nearby door with a powerful kick and sent the bolt flying.
A low groan could be heard before the person in the room began screaming in great pain.
“Please don’t kill me! I’ll let you be the head, okay? You’re the head from now on!”
Gale was a silent middle-aged man who did not talk much, but he was now holding his arm in terror while begging the intruder to spare his life.
“Please don’t kill me! I’ll obey you from now on! Please…”
The gleaming dagger drew a silver line in the air.
With a deadpan expression, Soran opened Gale’s throat with a clean cut, but then frowned as he noticed his clothes were now soaked in blood. He then proceeded to search for valuables in the room.
A total of eleven men were killed that night.
Almost all of them were core members of the gang, with three of them having had combat professions.
Unfortunately, they were all Level 1 with their professions. Apart from Gallas, who managed to trade a few blows with Soran, the others were beaten and killed in a one-sided fight.
As expected, the number of talented people in the slums was limited. The people there lacked food and money, as well as energy to train themselves. Those who managed to obtain a combat profession were mostly people who frequently participated in street fights; a Level 1 warrior who was properly trained could easily take on three of them at the same time.
Soran stuffed all the valuables into a makeshift sack made with a bed sheet and shouldered it as he left the building in style.
People were peeking, but no one dared to stand in his way.
After Soran left, several men sneaked into the alley and looted the corpses. They glared at the prostitutes who were about to do the same and proceeded to move away everything that could be sold for a bit of money from the lifeless building.
The gang was completely annihilated at the hands of a single assassin.
Another faction or gang would take over the area the next day; it was the only chance for the nearby residents to earn some quick money.
This was the place called the slums.
It was not much of a surprise for something like this to happen in such a lawless place.
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