Chapter 505 Rumble!

Chapter 505 Rumble!

Ambrose stabbed the knife through the drunken man's chest, but then someone wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him away before he could inflict any more harm.

"Argh!" The drunken man screamed with a bleeding chest.

Ambrose gritted his teeth and smashed the back of his head against the person behind him, breaking the nose of the combed-back haired man.

He screamed loudly while holding his bent, bleeding nose, and almost tripped on the leg of a nearby chair.

Ambrose then stabbed the knife through his throat and kicked him down to the ground like a beaten rag doll.

He then turned to the drunken man and hurled the knife straight to the man's chest, piercing his heart with deadly accuracy.

"Oh!" The drunken man swayed sideways and collapsed to the floor, clutching his chest in shock and disbelief.

With the last regretful look, he saw the pair of purple eyes staring at him like an angel of death.

With one final breath, he touched his bleeding chest and closed his eyes as his heart did the final beat before it stopped.

Forever.

"A-ah..." The combed-back haired man reached his hand to the ceiling but then stopped moving and finally went limp with the final breaths of his life, drifting away into the darkness of death.

"Whoo..."

Ambrose breathed heavily, relieved that those two weren't much of fighters after all.

The person with the knife seemed to be most experienced in the art of fighting compared to the two, but Ambrose managed to stealthily end his life.

That person probably didn't expect someone like him to be of any threat to him, which eventually led to his demise.

Ambrose took a quick glance at the bounty board and saw that those three had bounties on them, but unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to collect them as he would risk revealing his identity.

And then he robbed the three bodies from their money pouches and got seated on the bar stool.

"What a mess." The bartender sighed with a wry smile and picked up a rag to clean up the mess.

As the bartender went to get rid of the corpses and blood, Ambrose started counting on the money he received from the three.

A nice-looking pile of gold coins appeared on the desk, and after counting it all, Ambrose nodded in satisfaction.

"Around 370..."

Ambrose wasn't sure whether that was a lot or not, but it should be enough for some questions.

"Excuse me."

Ambrose spoke towards the bartender, who was dragging one of the corpses towards the back door that leads to the abandoned alleyway behind the tavern, which no one had been using for a very long time except the bartender.

The bartender opened the back door, dumped the corpse outside, and as he wiped his sweat, he motioned for Ambrose to ask away.

"How much for one question?"

"10 gold coins." The bartender said with a chuckle.

"Alright." Ambrose nodded. "What's your name?"

"Eli. Eli Goldsmith." Eli, the bartender, said with a smile. "That's 10 gold coins."

Rough-looking individuals waltzed by, some disappearing into alleys while others lingered on street corners, having fun with alcohol in hand and cigarettes on their lips.

There were few having sex in public on the pavement of the nearby alleyways, some even against a wall of some glass windows. The scene was chaotic and unsettling, a stark contrast to the peaceful atmosphere of daytime.

At this moment, the tavern was the most scandalous place in the street, and it was completely crowded with loud laughter and music wafting into the night, misty sky.

Behind the bar desk, Eli handed drinks to the rowdy customers and acted casually, not caring about the chaotic atmosphere.

In the air, the scent of smoke and alcohol lingered, creating an intoxicating blend that enveloped the room.

Some fought, others danced, but everyone seemed to be lost in the moment.

At that moment, Eli looked to the crowd and smiled as a hooded figure walked through the crowd, making his way towards him. It was as if he didn't exist until their eyes met.

The figure got seated on the stool in front of him and tapped his finger on the counter, a strange ring adorning his hand.

"You called for Us. What do you want?"

"I had a surprising guest today." Eli said with a smile. "Does the name—Falco Arundell—ring a bell?"

The figure cocked his head to the side, confusion visible in his dark eyes below the hood.

"He is dead."

"Then I saw a dead man walking." Eli smiled.

"..." The figure frowned. "Deathwalker?"

"That's what I assumed."

"Where is he?" The figure asked.

"Why do you want to know?" Eli asked. "He is quite valuable, as you can imagine."

"What do you want?" The figure asked snappily, clearly annoyed by Eli.

"One free kill, any of my choosing." Eli said with a chuckle.

"..." The figure scoffed and nodded. "Very well, you'll have my word."

Rumble!

A fading rumble echoed throughout the tavern as if there were a thunderstorm happening outside.

Eli smiled after hearing the rumble, which only he and the figure managed to hear.

"On the second floor, third room."

The figure nodded and stood up from the stool, but at that moment, he felt his hair stand on the back of his head and immediately turned his head over to the stairs.

There, a purple-eyed man walked down the stairs with a clear, watchful look in his eyes.

Eli turned to look at there and smiled. 'Things are about to get interesting.'

'It is indeed him.' The figure thought to himself and started walking towards the stairs with a calm stride.

He again looked like a shadow, moving down the tavern without being detected by anyone else. It was as if he again didn't exist

—like a ghost.