Instigator and Protector of Violence-Chapter 351: [The Rain Is About to Stop]

Time.

10:30 PM.

South District.

The center of all the night’s events.

After the storm subsided, everyone fell silent.

Even those who had been passionately exchanging fire a moment ago temporarily forgot to pull the trigger.

Because everyone’s gaze was fixated on the core area.

The center of the battlefield.

The two people who truly decided the outcome of this battle.

Old Xi Wen and the Skull Crusher.

Old Xi Wen was still standing there, the Skull Crusher’s axe had not achieved any results, as it was still firmly held by Old Xi Wen.

Old Xi Wen was fine, still standing.

That was the truest thought in the hearts of the former allies at that moment.

The sudden roar in the storm just now was quite shocking, especially since Old Xi Wen seemed motionless at that moment, making everyone even more worried.

Luckily, Old Xi Wen was fine.

Instantly, the morale of the former allies surged as if the guns in their hands had become more powerful.

However...

The next moment.

Just as everyone was about to launch a fierce attack riding that momentum, Old Xi Wen’s head suddenly showed an anomaly, a small, dense hole first appeared at his temple, then the small hole rapidly expanded, a torrent of fresh blood gushed out, along with flesh and other fluids.

Old Xi Wen’s body could no longer stand, he almost collapsed on the big axe, falling directly to the ground.

Blood began to pour from his mouth.

He hadn’t died yet, for there was still light in his pupils; he looked at the Skull Crusher, yet he wasn’t actually looking at the Skull Crusher, his eyes were actually looking at the sky, somewhere.

"Why..."

He didn’t understand.

And seemed filled with intense unwillingness.

But he couldn’t say anything further because his injuries were too severe.

His entire head had been blown through.

He wasn’t Johnny Blackbird or someone like Travis who had a strong connection with death; his real name lay with the wind, rain, thunder, lightning, the ocean.

Not with life.

So once his head was blown through, he couldn’t survive.

Yet he still reached out vainly, as if trying to grasp something.

"Old Xi Wen!"

The first to react was the Hard-headed Mo Lun, whether out of genuine or feigned emotion, he seemed to desperately want to reach Old Xi Wen, trying to save him.

But at this moment, Johnny Blackbird didn’t let him go.

He was tightly pursued.

Along with him, two other foster sons were caught.

The difficult-to-kill Johnny Blackbird stood like a mountain before them.

"The father is dead, so now it’s the children’s turn, right?"

Johnny Blackbird said these words in a low voice, causing the foster sons to change their expressions.

Indeed, when Old Xi Wen was alive, the advantage was on their side.

But now he’s dead, who will stop the fearsome giant axe man?

Actually, it wasn’t just Johnny Blackbird’s words that made them realize this.

At the moment Old Xi Wen’s head exploded, the positions of the foster sons became ambiguous.

The Hard-headed Mo Lun rushed to the front, while Iron Glove Terry and Clown Garris subtly lagged behind.

So if they had all charged forward just now, they might not have been able to save Old Xi Wen, but they could have retrieved his body.

"If you want my life, then you..."

Mo Lun, deserving of being called the Hard-headed, still stubbornly roared at Johnny Blackbird despite the situation.

However, as if sensing something, he suddenly turned back, only to find his two brothers already retreating into the darkness.

"You..."

"Old Xi Wen is dead; it’s meaningless now."

Their faces disappeared into the darkness; even that blind Kil, fighting against Vasini, had fled.

In just an instant, the former alliance was on the verge of collapse.

"Trying to escape?"

Johnny Blackbird snorted coldly, pressing forward.

The Skull Crusher also casually tossed the fallen Old Xi Wen off his axe to the ground.

That old man, lurking in Little Ibia for so many years, with immense ambition and a complex past, just lay there, stiffly, in the ditch filled with rainwater and filth.

He ultimately couldn’t crawl out of the black mire.

Sometimes life is just that cruel, without any miracles.

When the Skull Crusher took his first step, a rapid low hum sounded again in the dark night.

It seemed someone else had been hit.

That low hum finally caught the attention of the two people watching in the theater group.

The first to stand up was Heisenberg.

His brows were deeply furrowed.

He realized that things might not be going as he had planned.

"Are you leaving?"

Joseph also stood up, asking, having completely relaxed upon hearing that low hum.

He knew, the win or loss was decided.

Heisenberg didn’t speak; the aura around him was very solemn.

"Oh, by the way, now you might want to reconsider that statement of yours, think carefully, which route will get you out of the Royal Capital fastest."

Joseph said jokingly.

He always liked jokes, enjoyed cracking them; this skill he finally found again.

Heisenberg remained silent, taking a step forward.

Joseph’s demeanor suddenly turned serious, his entire being suddenly tense.

"Heisenberg, you know I won’t let you go any further; tonight, the only thing we can do is stay put and await the outcome."

Another standoff made the surrounding air stagnant.

The rain had reached its end, perhaps it would stop the next moment.

It might have been a minute or several minutes later.

Heisenberg finally let out a long sigh: "How did that guy do it?"

"Who? Are you talking about Ethan?"

"He was locked in the Dust-free Room, how did he do it?"

"Good question, if I knew, I’d tell you. Unfortunately, I’m very curious too."

"You’ve won."

"Thank you."

The two sat back down.

Behind them, those artists seemed to have discovered some new material, cheering again.

Those cheers seemed to be for someone else.

However, these cheers didn’t reach further.

For instance, Travis in the Sanctuary couldn’t hear it.

Right now, his heart was still carrying a kind of excitement.

He reached the inside of the Sanctuary, almost nearing the true core.

He never had much respect for the Southern District Mafia, in fact, he mostly looked down on them, believing he should occupy such a prime territory in the South District, rather than a group of already declining cowards.

Yet destroying a group’s faith, he still found this quite fulfilling.

He stood before the darkness.