Chapter 71
Words:2761Update:22/06/29 10:02:42
Bang bang bang!
Garon hammered on the door of the antique shop.
"Old man, open the door!"
It was early in the morning and the streets were deserted. Only a few workers in blue uniforms passed by. They only glanced at Garon out of curiosity when they saw him hammering on the door.
"Old man! Are you still in bed? "Garon shouted impatiently.
He went to bed early last night and left a few complicated questions to ask in the morning before going to the Martial Arts Association to evaluate his rank. However, no one opened the door after knocking for a long time.
Garen furrowed his brows. "Did he go out?" He thought for a while and looked around to make sure no one was around. He tiptoed and reached for the window bars above the door. He took out a blue key.
"He's still here." Garon smiled as he inserted the key into the keyhole and opened the door with a click.
Creak …
The door slowly opened inwards. It was quiet inside. The floor was replaced with a black carpet. Some oil paintings and rare items were neatly hung on the walls. They were colorful, with gold and silver being the most common. They covered most of the walls.
Garon closed the door and walked to the wall to touch all the new items. He shook his head in disappointment as he did not find anything with potential. He turned and walked into the inner room of the antique shop.
He opened the black curtain. It was dark inside and he could not see anything. Garon carefully lit the oil lamp on the right wall.
"Old man? He's not sick, is he? " He frowned as he looked at the bed in the inner room. It was neat and tidy. The quilt was folded into a square shape. There was no trace of sleep.
Garon walked to the bedside and put his hand under the quilt. It was cold and there was no warmth.
"No one slept last night. Did he go out last night?" He felt that something was wrong. He turned back to the middle of the shop and sat down where the old man usually sat.
Garon suddenly saw a white narrow-necked amphora on the table. There was still a dark red color on the bottle. It was a solidified dark red color.
He narrowed his eyes and gently picked up the bottle. He dipped his finger on the dark red color and smelled it.
"The smell of blood …" He stood up slowly. His expression was gloomy. "I hope it's not the old man's blood …"
Garon began to check the shop. After a few minutes, he found a few more drops of dried blood on the black carpet in front of the table in the middle of the shop.
Squatting beside these few drops of blood, Garen looked around and saw that there were no other blood stains.
"Eh?" He suddenly exclaimed softly as his gaze fell on the shadow on the left side of the table. There was a white rectangular envelope lying quietly on the carpet.
He walked over and picked it up.
The envelope said: To Little bastard..
The black handwriting looked a little messy, but it also gave off a casual and unrestrained feeling.
"It's the old man's handwriting." Garen frowned as he tore open the envelope. He gently shook out the letter and unfolded it.
The letter was filled with sparse handwriting.
. "... Don't come looking for me. Don't even think about contacting me. I'm doing well. An old friend invited me over to eat and drink. I heard there were beauties to warm his bed. Hahaha. Don't be too envious. I probably won't come back. This shop is just for fun. I'll leave it all to you. You can do whatever you want with it.
Oh, right. The appraisal knowledge I taught you is a rare experience. Normal appraisers don't have this opportunity. You have to learn it well. Don't let this old man misjudge you. ".
Garon finished reading the letter. The gloominess on his face did not change. Instead, it deepened.
"Is this old man messing with me?" He took the letter and walked to the table. He took out a match from the drawer and lit the oil lamp on the table. Then, he hung the letter above the flame and slowly smoked it.
Slowly, new lines of black words appeared on the back of the white letter. Garon only took the letter back and read it again when all the black words were revealed.
"Garon, if you have the heart, you should be able to read the real content of this letter. Perhaps I would have left by now.
To be honest, you are very similar to me when I was young. Although our talents are very different, your personality is almost exactly the same as mine. "Alright, I won't say anymore. Take good care of the necklace I gave you. Don't lose it. It might be of great help to you at some point.
"Also, if … I mean if, you find something wrong in the shop, you have to leave immediately! "If someone finds you, don't mention my name. Don't say you know me! Remember! Those people are not people you can fight. Or rather, they are not people ordinary people can deal with. "Don't call the police. Don't ask others for help. It's useless. You will only harm others. Other than those people themselves, no one is their match.
Unfortunately … if you have that kind of talent … ".
The letter stopped abruptly. It seemed that the letter was not finished.
Garen held the letter in his hand, and his breathing became slightly heavier. He had already sensed that something might have happened to the old man.
"Those people? Old man, who are you talking about? "
His mind was in a mess. He stood there with the letter in his hand.
"Crack!"
Suddenly, a soft sound came from inside the shop.
"Who is it!"
Garon took the letter and rushed in.
A figure walked out from the back door of the shop. Hearing the shout, the person turned around and looked at Garon. His eyes showed a hint of surprise.
"Master was right. That little guy is here again!" The skinny man suddenly shouted.
"Looks like we didn't come in vain." Another voice came from outside. "Kill him quickly and leave."
"Got it. I'll take care of it." The skinny man at the door laughed. He turned around and walked towards Garon.
"Kid, it's your bad luck to meet me." He pointed his index finger at Garon.
"Boom!"
An invisible force suddenly pressed down on Garen's entire body. It was like a ball of transparent glue, directly fixing him in place.
"What is this?!" Garon's face changed. He wanted to raise his hand, but he felt that his arm could not move. It was as if there were hard walls all around him. It was as if his whole body was embedded in a concrete wall.
"This is the talent that the old man was talking about? This is the so-called power of those people?! "Garon wanted to move his body, but it was useless.
He stared at the person in front of him. He noticed that on the back of the man's right hand, there was a faint black tattoo. It looked like a complicated pentagram tattoo.
"James Siva, stop fooling around. Let's call it a day and go back." The man's voice came from outside the door again.
"Oh, I know, I know." The skinny man replied impatiently. Once again, he extended his index finger and pointed it at Garen.
Crack!!
The sound of glass shattering was heard.
The impatience on the man's face instantly froze. He slowly lowered his head and saw a fair arm firmly inserted into his chest.
The young man who was immobilized was now standing in front of him. His face was calm and cold.
Bam!
The man was instantly sent flying. He crashed through the door and fell to the ground. He slid far away and stopped breathing.
Garon slowly walked out of the back door. In front of him was a small courtyard behind the shop.
There were three men in black standing in the courtyard. The three of them were staring blankly at the skinny man who was sent flying. They did not seem to have realized what had happened.
"It's Old Man Gregor!! It's him! He's back!! "The man in black on the left suddenly shouted in a trembling voice.
"Shut up! That old bastard was already dead! He was killed by the master himself! "The leader of the men in black roared. "Kill him, and we'll leave this place immediately!"
"I just want to live a peaceful life. Why do you have to force me?"
Garon looked indifferent as he looked at the people in front of him. His body slowly expanded. His muscles bulged, and his upper body expanded to twice its original size. He looked like a terrifying demon king in the legends.
"What do you mean I don't have talent in this area? What a joke … "
Boom!!
With a loud sound, he pounced forward. The ground shook violently like thunder, and a small crater was formed.
He was like a Tyrannosaurus Rex that was hunting for food. With a strong and terrifying aura, he pounced on the three people in the courtyard.
"Spread out!!"
The three of them only managed to shout out one sentence before they heard two crisp popping sounds. Both of their heads were grabbed by Garen's hands respectively. With a light squeeze, countless red and white fluids exploded out of their heads with two bangs. Half of the courtyard was splattered.
The last person jumped up. As he rolled, he pulled out two daggers and stabbed towards Garon's neck.
Bang!!
As if he was swatting a fly, Garon slapped the man hard. He was sent flying with his daggers and crashed into the wall of the courtyard. Like a human mural, he stuck to the wall for a long time without sliding off.
Garon breathed out heavily from his nose. He strode over, grabbed the man's hair, and lifted him up in front of him. Bang!
He punched the man's abdomen. Another mouthful of blood spurted out and splashed onto Garon.
"You can really take a beating … Without that transparent layer of energy, you're just as weak as a normal person."
"Heh … Heh heh …" The man was grabbed by the hair. He was bleeding from all seven orifices, but he could still laugh. "You … You're finished … Do you … have a sister … and parents? White Horse … is over. Hehe … If it wasn't for the master's order … I would have been the one to enjoy that cute little girl … But White Horse is more … ruthless than me … He will f * ck your sister to death! F * ck her to death!! Hahahaha!!! "
Garon's gaze was cold as he twisted the man's neck.
"You don't want to be killed, so you want to drag your friends down with you? Don't worry … I'll let him accompany you later … "
Stepping on the ground, another small crater appeared on the ground. Garen dashed out of the back door of the courtyard in a few steps, covering three to four meters with each step. He disappeared into the morning mist in a few steps.
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