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Chapter_296
The tension in the air was palpable as the night-shift guard eyed Nash and Finn, his suspicion growing with each passing moment.
“Who else do you think paid for them? You?” Nash’s voice was calm, but the sarcasm in his tone was evident.
The guard’s nostrils flared, and he took a step forward, his eyes narrowing. “You still haven’t told me who you are!”
The fact that the two had managed to slip into the mausoleum without his noticing only added to the suspicion that gnawed at him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were involved in something far beyond what he could comprehend.
The day-shift guard, however, was more collected. He leaned in toward the other guard and whispered something in the local dialect. Though Nash couldn’t understand the words, he could hear the subtle tone of their conversation. Finn raised an eyebrow, sensing that the situation was shifting.
After a moment of contemplation, the night-shift guard finally spoke, his voice still tinged with caution but softer now. “You may leave now. If you’re not against it, you can have a cup of tea at Kingsley Apothecary on No. 18, Kingsley Street.”
Nash exchanged a glance with Finn, their understanding passing between them without a word. They both knew the invitation was anything but casual. “Let’s go take a look at the place they mentioned,” Nash said quietly.
The Renault van that arrived outside the gates of Young Gardens was unassuming, but the men who stepped out were anything but. Dressed in snug windbreakers, caps, and sunglasses, they moved with an air of purpose.
One of them, Stellar, glanced at the gates of Young Gardens and smirked. “I knew it, warden. I knew you were a member of the Young Family Village.”
The words sent a cold shiver down the warden’s spine. The Young family, once a name that echoed in the halls of power, had fallen into ruin after the massacre. Stellar had been suspicious for some time, his mind piecing together fragments of information. The warden had once mentioned that his entire family had perished in a fire, and Stellar had long suspected the two events—the massacre and the fire—were linked.
“Given your age, you would be in the same generation as Wolfgang Young, whose middle name is Philix.” Stellar’s voice dropped, as if testing the warden. “And Wolfgang’s wife is from the Xing family, which is why you changed your name to Philix Xing. That way, you could honor your wife’s memory and conceal your true identity.”
The warden, known now as Philix, looked taken aback. “Since when were you so well-informed about the Young family’s history?”
Stellar smiled knowingly. “It all started about five years ago. You got drunk during a celebratory dinner for winning a battle and let it slip that you lost your family in a fire.”
Philix’s expression darkened, but he didn’t deny it. “Let’s go… I’ll tell you everything once I’ve paid my respects to my father.”
Meanwhile, across town, Dominic stood in front of a window in the Green Bamboo Association’s headquarters, staring out at the calm sea below. The waters were serene, but his mind was anything but.
With the Ten Juggernauts dead and the grandmasters of the Green Bamboo Association wiped out, the once-mighty organization had been brought to its knees. The other forces in Sagen were beginning to move, sensing weakness in the now-fractured foundation of the Green Bamboo Association.
Winnie, still recovering from injuries in the hospital, knelt in front of him, eyes full of desperation. “Mr. Carter, you must avenge my grandfather and his friends!”
Dominic let out a bitter laugh. “Avenge?” His voice cracked with self-mockery. “We’re struggling to protect ourselves now. How are we supposed to avenge them?”
Winnie’s face fell. “What about Mr. Holt? Wasn’t he going to Jonford? Why did he go back on his word?”
Dominic’s hands tightened on his walking stick as he turned to face the young man. “Mr. Holt never went to Jonford. The Smiling Grim Reaper summoned three thousand great-grandmasters yesterday. Even if Holt had gone, he would have died.”
In the study of the Snyder Estate, Mr. Snyder Sr. sat with a photograph in his hands. The photo was old, and his eyes shimmered with tears as he muttered, “Ruby, the Green Bamboo Association’s Ten Juggernauts are dead now. You must be overjoyed, right?”
The door suddenly burst open as Felicity entered, not bothering to knock.
Mr. Snyder Sr. hurriedly shoved the photo into a book, trying to conceal his emotions. “Knock before you enter!” he scolded, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness.
Felicity froze in the doorway, a frown forming on her face as she noticed the tears in his eyes. “Grandpa, are you crying?”
A pang of sadness hit her heart as she approached him. “Grandpa, what’s wrong?”
The old man quickly wiped his eyes, forcing a smile. “I’m overjoyed because the Ten Juggernauts are dead!”
Felicity eyed him suspiciously. “Something’s up with you, Grandpa. You always forbade me from having anything to do with the Ten Juggernauts.”
Her voice softened. “Why are you so overjoyed that you’re crying over their deaths?”
Mr. Snyder Sr. managed a sad smile. “That’s because you didn’t stand a chance against them, and I was worried about your safety.”
But Felicity wasn’t convinced. “Grandpa, are you hiding something from me? Our family doesn’t have a massive grudge against the Green Bamboo Association, so why this reaction?”
Her voice was low, full of suspicion. Something was off, and she wasn’t going to let it go until she figured it out.