Returning to the Mysterious Era

Chapter 99 - How Could Firearms be so Inconvenient?

At the northeast side of a moderately sized mansion at 36 Ferrin Street, a rectangular warehouse stood wide open. A black limousine was parked at the entrance where a man and a woman were gingerly transporting items.

A dozen members of the Black Fire gang waited nearby with several handcarts beside them and came closer as the two unloaded the goods. They held the smaller antiques while the larger antiques were placed on the carts where one person would pull the cart from the front while another steadied the antiques with both hands—just to be safe.

All of them were moving extremely carefully due to how valuable the antiques were. If any were accidentally damaged or broken, Boss Edward would have their heads.

"Careful with those!" Boss Edward, a middle-aged man about 1.75 meters tall, warned from where he stood nearby. Like all the gang members, he wore a black jacket, with a white skull emblem printed on the right side. A tattoo of a black flame was burned into the skin of his arm—the Black Fire gang's mark.

A tall, slender man hurried over from a side road around the mansion and whispered a few words into Edward's ear.

"What! You still haven't picked up the other Fotte vehicle! What's going on? Didn't they say it was over on Beika Street?" Edward raged. These useless subordinates couldn't even handle such a small task?

A minor leader from the Black Fire gang and his team had disappeared yesterday, probably to goof off who-knew-where, which had forced him to personally make an appearance. Moving things in the dead of night was not particularly pleasant.

Duststorm's last-minute decision to split their antique transport trucks into two routes actually had nothing to do with what Cassius did last night. The slow-witted Edward hadn't reported those disappearances to anyone. It would take five, maybe six, days without seeing them for him to start sensing something was wrong. Edward's brain had long been fried from snorting powder. He had been high all night and was still buzzing in the morning.

While Duststorm had informed the Black Fire gang, they had deliberately withheld some information. They had intended right from the start to transport the antiques via two routes to the Black Fire gang. Half of the antiques went directly to the Black Fire gang's headquarters at their warehouse on 36 Felon Street, while the other half went to 118 Beika Street, to prevent them from losing everything in one go.

After all, Baichuan City was ostensibly still Ace of Spades' territory. There was no harm in being a little more wary. It turned out to be the correct decision because if the three had not split up, Cassius would have eliminated them all at once.

"What's going on?" Over by the Fotte vehicle, a man with curly brown hair approached, wearing black gloves despite the heat. The pair of half-moon gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose made him look less like a gang member and more like a scholar.

"Mr. Gilia! Here’s the situation." Edward quickly recounted what he had just heard.

Gilia furrowed his brows and did not say anything Something didn’t feel right. He immediately went back to inform his companion.

Meanwhile, a tall masked man stepped out from a dark alley by the mansion, cold eyes peering through the holes in his mask.

"This is the place," Cassius muttered to himself. He wasn't wearing the mask to look cool but to hide his identity. According to Rona's confession, there were quite a few people in the Black Fire gang's stronghold, but that wasn't what worried Cassius. The problem was that he might not be able to kill them all, and one or two might slip through after having seen his face.

Cassius had no desire to see a wanted poster with his own face all over the walls the next day. He didn't want to leave Baichuan City again.

Standing in the alley, Cassius looked up at the tall wall. The white wall was about two and a half meters high, topped with black spiked railings. He took two steps back, then bounded three big strides forward before finally springing up like a coil.

Thud.

His feet hit the ground.

"Who's there?!" a voice called out from not far away.

An expert? Cassius quickly scanned his surroundings. He had landed in a flower garden somewhere at the back of the warehouse. There was a white stone pathway along with a row of ornamental trees planted in front of the garden.

On the white stone path, tens of meters away, a young man wearing black gloves came sprinting like a leopard.

That speed probably means he's not with the gang. Cassius narrowed his eyes slightly. The man across from him was likely from Duststorm and just happened to be at the Black Fire gang's base.

Since he had already been discovered, Cassius didn't bother hiding anymore. He jumped out from the flowerbed and stood on the white stone floor.

"Are you from Duststorm?" Cassius asked calmly.

"Go to hell!" Gilia didn't waste any words with him. He immediately charged, his feet sliding as his hands swung straight ahead. His fists looked like sharp spikes with how quickly he was moving.

The punch was fast, but the palm that shot out was even faster. It slapped the fist away with a loud smack.

Gilia staggered, shocked. The opponent's strength seemed much greater than his. He needed to tread carefully. Just as Gilia thought this, alarm bells started blaring in his brain. He shrank back and dodged.

Bang!

A fist slammed into an iron street lamp as thick as a regular person's thigh. It snapped. The top half of the lamp post flew out with a swoosh, then stuck into the ground at an angle.

Fuck!!! He's way stronger than I thought! Gilia's pupils contracted, and he scrambled to dodge again. A hand chopped down like a knife. It brushed past his face and slashed into the ornamental tree beside him with a whoosh. Wood chips exploded outward from the trunk, leaving behind a white fist-sized gap. The leaves trembled violently before raining down.

"Hah..." Gilia gasped. He now understood that he and his opponent were not at the same level. Fortunately, he had been in excellent condition just now, allowing him to dodge danger twice. Otherwise, a single hit would have left him with broken bones. The scratch on his cheek reminded Gilia once again that he was fighting an unbeatable opponent.

"Why aren't you making a move?" A deep male voice came from beneath the mask, and Gilia turned to look. The masked assailant stood calmly, arms crossed. His powerful build resembled a mighty bear, with cold eyes behind the mask. The man's massive shadow completely smothered his own.

Could it be that it wasn't because of my quick reflexes? He deliberately held back? The thought sprang to mind, unbidden, especially since his opponent seemed so calm. It felt like a cat playing with a mouse.

Damn it all! Gilia cursed inwardly, his Adam's apple rolling. He wanted to shout for help, but fear seized his heart and throat. His heart pounded uncontrollably as if a wild beast had set its sights on him. He broke out in a cold sweat, his back clammy.

If I yell, I'm a dead man. Gilia trembled as he took two steps back. It felt like the other person was toying with him, and when he looked up sharply, those fierce eyes beneath the white mask were fixed on him. Like a predator marking its prey.

"Ahhh!" Gilia screamed and charged forward, feet scrambling to push off the ground. He snapped his right shoulder forward and punched straight.

Cassius mirrored him, deflecting Gilia's fist sideways. Then he stormed ahead and lunged with his right fist.

Gilia twisted, changing his footwork momentarily. He spun like a top, came up behind Cassius, and punched viciously at his spine.

Thud.

Cassius felt just how powerful that punch was. His face remained expressionless as he pivoted on his heel and swung. His strong arm whirled around like a windmill, fingers turning into blades that slashed across Gilia's chest, leaving five bloodied gashes.

Gilia dodged sideways, pouncing at Cassius again. He combined his hands into the semblance of a knife. He threw out combat move after combat move as he circled Cassius.

So it really is a style... Duststorm might have a Covert Martial Arts expert, hiding in the shadows, who is skilled at teaching disciples. Or maybe an entire Covert Martial Arts school.

Cassius deliberately held back so he could fight Gilia longer and gauge the specific skills of Duststorm's members. If he didn't, Gilia would have died from the first punch!

Cassius could sense the faint outline of a complete framework from his opponent's martial arts. It was a technique that transcended ordinary martial arts.

"It's about time." He slapped away Gilia's flailing arms, before stepping forward and flinging out a fierce straight punch.

Bang!

It was silent except for the echo of a gunshot lingering in the air. Gilia calmly held a black pistol in his right hand, a small wisp of smoke still rising from the muzzle.

"Times have changed! You think it's still like the old days when you can just punch someone to death? No, all you need is a single bullet!" A corner of Gilia's mouth pulled up into a slight sneer.

"..."

Cassius stood still, a black bullet hole having punctured the pectorals of his tower-like chest. He slowly raised his hand, pressing it against his chest.

"It's useless to struggle! I shot right for your heart!" Gilia crowed, firing another shot. The bullet hit right next to the previous one, also at the heart. He was performing a righteous coup de grâce just to be safe!

With a tear, the fabric easily pulled apart. Cassius looked down at his chest under the moonlight. The two bullets were lodged in his powerful muscles, but it only broke the skin. A drop of blood graciously dripped from the shell.

"So this is a handgun?" Cassius gently flicked, knocking the bullets into his palm. The only evidence that showed they were ever there were two slightly red dots on his chest.

How could firearms be so inconvenient!!! What kind of monster is he?! He actually took the bullets like they were nothing! Damn it! Gilia's jaw dropped in shock, his eyes larger than ornaments.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Gilia's face twisted as he pulled the trigger, firing dozens of bullets frantically at Cassius. Sparks flew quickly from the muzzle. The casings clattered on the white floor tiles.

"Are you done shooting? It's my turn." Cassius lowered his arms, no longer shielding his face. With a flex of his muscles, he squeezed all the bullets out and they fell to the ground crisply.

"No—" Gilia didn't get to finish his sentence. His head was wrenched around 360 degrees, lifted like a lantern, then tossed onto the road far away by Cassius.

Their fight seemed to last a long time, but it was actually a matter of seconds. Members of the Black Fire gang were just starting to rush over.

A head suddenly hit Edward in the face with a slap, blood splattering all over. Edward jumped like a rabbit, frantically wiping at his face. A strong smell of blood pierced his nostrils.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! What is this? What is this?!" Edward scrambled back a few steps, bumping into two armed subordinates.

A woman from the Duststorm immediately darted over, snatching the head from the ground, and examining it in the moonlight. Her pupils constricted instantly, and her mouth trembled.

"No...no! Gilia! Gilia!" She shook her head in disbelief, unable to comprehend what was happening. The woman seemed to have a special relationship with Gilia. They were likely lovers or, at the very least, harbored affection for each other.

And now, her beloved's head had been twisted off!

Unbridled rage crushed her rationality. Her bloodshot eyes locked on the towering figure rushing toward her from a distance away. She looked like a madwoman as she sprang from the ground and sprinted right for him, like an arrow.

"I'll kill you! I will kill you!" She snarled as the distance between the two rapidly closed. "I'll kill you! I will..."

Boom!!!

Her upper body exploded as a brutal iron fist barrelled into her without hesitation, flesh and blood exploding into the air. Cassius shoved her broken body aside, hard.

Bang bang bang!

Edward kept firing at Cassius, but it seemed to have no effect. Arms up to shield his face, Cassius charged, his movements savage and fast.

"Shoot! Shoot! Shoot! Shoot—Ahhhh!"

Four or five guns fired simultaneously and a barrage of bullets lit up the scene. Some bullets embedded in tree trunks, others ricocheted off walls, and a few hit streetlights, sparking a cascade of lights. Most of them peppered Cassius's body in a dense array.

How exhilarating! Though he was being shot at, Cassius felt an indescribable thrill and a long-lost excitement. His nostrils flared, seemingly stimulated by the blood on his own body. A bloodthirsty indifference crept over him.

Cassius's head shot up, bloodshot eyes wide. He leaped like a cannonball, crossing several meters to launch himself into the crowd. What followed was a cold-blooded massacre.

Limbs were torn apart, heads kicked like balls. A mighty hand swung down like a baseball bat, smashing a man's head into his chest.

Cassius pulled his arm back and gazed around. The moon's pale reflection, tinged with crimson blood, seemed to be swirling about strangely.

All the members of the Black Fire gang and Duststorm were dead!

He looked down at his bloodied hands and was inexplicably reminded of the brutal hooded men from that ruthless battle. His current behavior seemed eerily similar.

Cassius turned abruptly, his blood-red eyes glaring at the shadow behind him like a ravenous demon. He said through gritted teeth, "You again! Shadow Demon!"

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