1658 Differences

Name:The Devil's Cage Author:Rusty Dragon
The man in the wind coat and fedora widened his eyes in disbelief at the black figure in front of him.

When did…

His throat moved a few times, wanting to voice his question but [Acard Knife]'s Powerful attack and attribute [Soul Hunt] complemented each other well, boosting its attack to Extreme and also inflicting a fatal blow to the man. All the man could do was raise his hand at Kieran in shivers, but before his finger could touch Kieran, his body started to crumble.

Fuuuuu.

A powerful wind blew into the underground room, like a hurricane happening in a limited space, translucent souls appearing one after another.

There were a lot of them, standing together and overlapping, making them look like sardines in cans at first glance.

Most of the translucent souls were in a daze, their eyes dull and their flimsy bodies fragile, like mist itself.

Some of them were soaking in fear, looking at each other and Kieran in fear.

Each one of them floated in the air, wailing, screaming, shouting their lungs out.

Despite their wails, nothing was heard, yet the silent voiced souls trembled.

Spirit authentication popped up one after another in Kieran's vision, he raised a brow and plunged [Acard Knife] into the first translucent soul that screamed.

Tsssk!

The stab produced violent sizzles, like water being poured over a hot iron plate. After smoke rose, that soul was weakened down to the point that even the wind could carry it away.

All the other souls stopped wailing right away, looking at Kieran in fear and it kept growing.

Kieran then said, with extra emphasis on each and every word, "Now you all are free, so go to the place where you should go. NOW! RIGHT AWAY! IMMEDIATELY!"

His powerful tone pressured the souls.

They looked at each other in hesitation. Then, one child moved, turning into light particles and floating away. Another lady followed right away.

More light particles floated away, and like falling dominoes, the rest of the souls turned into light particles and floated away, even those who were at a loss for action.

Countless lights of the firefly converged and shed light over the area of deserted buildings.

The Northerners watched the lit up area in confusion.

Many curious and busybody fellas ran to the light to have a look but the majority stayed behind and watched from afar.

Those who knew what the lights represented were pale and horrified.

Some of them even ran to the most prosperous street of the North and before they even reached the short houses filled with neon lights, one of them was already screaming, "Lord Yutenta! Lord Yutenta!"

After a few calls, a huge man, bare top even in late autumn, squeezed himself out of one of the short houses.

"I got it, I got it, what's all the fuss about?"

A huge, fat man with a pugnacious look stared down at the few men angrily.

These few men who were considered big shots in the North trembled under the glare from the fat man.

"I'm sorry, Lord Yutenta, but…"

"I said I got it. If you people want to live longer, stay away from that," the fat man then squeezed himself back to the house. A playful laugh from women then came out from the door.

The few men outside the house obviously knew this fat man's temper, so they didn't disturb him anymore. They then ran back to their own turf and started to warn their man, pulling them away from the light.

Meanwhile inside the small house, Yutenta lifted his head up from the girls for a glance outside the door.

"Where did this bastard come from, killing off Fedora like that? It's not wise to step on his tail, I won't risk my life for this. Thankfully I've sent Linda to the South, otherwise it would be troublesome!"

Yutenta grumbled in a muffled voice before it was replaced by a perverted laughter, then he buried his head back into the girls.



Back at the deserted building area, more and more Northerners gathered around and it wasn't good news to fellow Northerners.

There was no such thing as 'living together in peace' between Northerners, anyone in the north could fight one another for a bottle of beer. They probably had more enemies than friends.

Soon, among the busybody viewers, someone spotted their own enemy.

Quietly, a knife was pulled out, the man walked over and stabbed his enemy in the back of the waist.

"Remember the bottle of beer last month? Didn't expect me to…"

The man with the knife laughed coldly at his enemy falling to the ground, baffled by confusion, the man's heart was filled with joy but before he finished, a wind blew from the back of his head.

Fung! Bang!

The man with the knife didn't even have the space to dodge and he was smashed on the back of his head.

He collapsed on the ground without even making a noise.

Another man with a stick did not let the man with a knife go, aiming at the weak spots and beating them in a flurry.

Bang Bang Bang!

The metal baseball bat was smashed on the man with a knife, heavy thuds together with bone-cracking noise instantly attracting all the other Northerners in the area.

Compared to those confusing lights from the buildings, the Northerners were used to these kinds of brutal noises.

Even more so when more men noticed their own enemy, rivals, and some worthy targets in the crowd.

There were no signs, no prologue or whatsoever, all they needed was a gaze, or a disdainful smile, and a messy fight broke out.

Screams and slashing noises sent the deserted building area into clamours.

However, several of the biggest gangs in the north did not participate in the messy fight, neither did they try to fish in muddy waters. They sat back like an obedient kind and hid in their own dens.

They were not cowards or had no intentions to fight, but their boss forbade them from getting near. They didn't assume their boss was too weak or scared though, anyone who earned the title 'boss' was known for his boldness and brutal fights. Those who could live long enough to enjoy life in the north were the most cunning of human beings.

Every single lackey thought their boss had some plans in their heads, so every one of them waited in anticipation, rubbing their palms in eagerness.

Beyond the lackeys' eyes though, their boss paled and trembled in fear.

"Damn it!"

"Bastard!"

"Those idiots, have they no brains?!"

"Why did they divide the 'cleaners'?"

"Do they really want to clean up the place?"

One of the bosses shouted angrily at his special-made walkie-talkie.

"If they have brains, we won't get to perform."

A voice full of contempt came from the other side of the walkie-talkie, followed by several different laughs.

"Do you think those things will show?"

One of the voices asked through the walkie-talkie and it immediately silenced the laughter.

"What does it have to do with us? As long as we stay away from that place and go out in the day, we will be fine. Besides, decreasing the number of men is also good for us, I'm heavily provoked lately," the voice of contempt said again.

"Me too!"

"Yeah, that's right."

The boss who got so angry at first also nodded in agreement with the voice.

Duen, the owner of the voice of contempt, looked even more contemptuous.

'A bunch of short-sighted fellas!

They have seen this kind of supernatural transcendent power yet they are willing to stay in their own turf and do nothing to seize the chance.'

The conversation through the walkie-talkie ended soon.

Duen locked his walkie-talkie into the safe.

The North Sector has its own rules.

However, no one would expect the rules were set using a mere walkie-talkie and what more astonishing was the bosses who treated each other like arch-rivals had teamed up in the dark.

Duen, who worked his hands up the alliance between the bosses, was very happy with the result.

He thought he had reached the peak of his life, that was until he saw that lord and before he got in contact with the mystical powers.

Duen checked his safe again. Even though he had no more concerns about this alliance that he had cooked up, he wouldn't just let go of his advantages.

After making sure it was safe, he walked into the secret room beside the safe.

Unlike his extravagant office, the secret room was simple. There were no extra decorations, only a concrete floor with a magical formation, plus the required ingredients placed in it.

Duen walked into the middle of the magical formation and started to mutter the incantations.

A while later, a body buried deep underground moved.



The killing continued, Kieran standing on the top of the building and watching.

Every man for himself.

Only a few grouped up together, but that didn't mean they would secure the upper hand. Quite the contrary, after such a group was noticed, the other solo fighters would team up and tear the group apart before they went back to their own fights.

There were no rules, the main weapons were cleavers and sticks, while chains and knives were used as support.

Some who lost their weapons continued to fight with the bricks they picked up, and those who failed even to pick up a brick fought with their bare hands.

No doubt, those who were in this messy fight fought in a barbaric way, using whatever they could get their hands on.

As the men fought like barbarians, chaos and death intertwined and created a gruesome show.

A while later, the whole area was filled with bodies.

At least a hundred men had lost their lives.

Blood painted the area red.

Kieran watched coldly, waiting for his opponent to make a move.

According to Bloody Mary's intel, the monster, known as Fedora, who he had killed earlier, was one of two notorious bastards in the North Sector.

The other one was War Ghost.

Unlike Fedora, who was rather inconspicuous and preferred to lay low, War Ghost had a much higher profile.

He would appear in every big scale fight and kill everyone, regardless of ally or enemy.

He knows no tiredness and pain.

War Ghost, as his title suggested, was a battle fanatic in the battlefield, going into a frenzy rampage until he killed the very last person on the battlefield.

The legend surrounding War Ghost was so well known that one wouldn't even need to find out from the monsters, other civilians in the North knew him as well.

Given how unusual his title was, Kieran kept an eye out for this War Ghost, he would be even more vigilant when facing such an opponent. That was why he chose to take out Fedora first, he had to further unseal his power and as a matter of fact, the situation at hand was better than he expected.

Fedora, who was already a legend in the North, had consumed souls far more than Kieran could imagine and after he 'exorcised' those souls, his attributes were unsealed again.

Spirit was still stuck at A- but the others, Strength, Agility, Constitution, Intuition had reached A- together.

The night breeze blew.

Kieran again used the breathing method from Knights of Dawn Body Tempering Art to adjust and adapt to his stronger body.

Suddenly, something beneath the building caught his attention.

A gigantic, buff person in armor appeared.

The armor covered most of the person's body, including the head, the face and the weak spots.

No one had seen the face underneath the helmet before and it seemed like the heavy armor did not hinder the person's movements at all.

The moment the person appeared, he started to run, like a rhino charging into battle.

Bang Bang Bang!

Everyone in his path was knocked away, suffering from broken bones and torn muscles.

The armored giant was like a paintbrush painting a straight line on the canvas, or a knife cutting through a tofu, his charge through the battlefield divided it into two.

When the armored giant turned around, the whole messy battlefield fell into silence.

Seconds later, a shock cry sounded, "War Ghost! Run!"

The cry sounded like a signal for everyone to run and scatter, the boldness of killing each other was gone.

War Ghost's legend in the North was too scary and widely known.

One man rivaled a hundred, or even a thousand.

Such an unbelievable legend became a fact of War Ghost, hence everyone believed it without hesitation.

Therefore, there's a saying that every Northerner agrees with: never fight, never resist, when encountering the War Ghost.

Running away had become a standard reaction, no one would laugh at you for doing so.

Quite the contrary, those who could escape War Ghost's grasp would earn admiration from the Northerners and welcomed words like 'lucky' or 'life's on your side'.

A lot of people tried to outrun the War Ghost but all were shredded to pieces but the stampede, like now…

Tssssst!

War Ghost reached out to the man nearest to him and tore the man in half like ripping a piece of paper in two.

After a semi-circular motion, War Ghost threw two half a body out left and right.

Bang bang!

Two loud and heavy thuds later, several running men were slammed to the ground.

War Ghost laughed in a profound manner, he didn't go after the running men, instead he went over to those who fell down.

Those who fell and managed to get up would run again for their lives and those who failed?

They'd cling onto those who ran.

The Northerners had nothing like sacrificing for the better good or helping a friend in desperate times.

'Even if I die, I'll drag you down to hell with me', that's the true creed of the Northerners.

Those who were dragged down by their enemy struggled fiercely, they'd punch and kick the burden away and as War Ghost closed in on them, they went all out and disregarded all consequences.

An unknown laugh came from under the helmet again, War Ghost enjoying this kind of moment.

A prey had no meaning if it was killed directly; playing with them and teasing them was the most enjoyable way.

By torturing, War Ghost grew stronger.

Come on!

Come on!

More! More power! More transcendent power!

The urge in his heart raised his foot over the men, War Ghost wanted to crush the bones of his prey with his stomp but just as he raised his foot, a black figure descended from the sky and stepped on him first.

BANG!

War Ghost's fat, heavy body was stomped into the ground.

A sharp knife was stabbed into the seams of the armor.

Splat!

Thick, smelly, black blood gushed out of the helmet, but War Ghost didn't stop struggling after being stabbed. He reached his hands out and tried to catch Kieran, but Kieran was faster, the sword in his hand glaring and slashing over the seams at War Ghost's elbow armor.

Then the waist, followed by the knee.

When Kieran landed on War Ghost's chest, all War Ghost could do was wriggle like a fat, helpless worm.

Kieran's attack didn't stop there, he was just getting started.