Mysteries: Arcana Wars

Chapter 447: Endless Difficulties

Looking at the brutal scene in front of him, Uncle Solan was stunned where he was.

No, boy, what's going on with you?!

He looks so mysterious, but is he really that fierce in fighting?

Oh my god, where on earth did this guy come from? ? ? ?

Each move was clean, neat, calm and decisive, targeting the opponent's weakness directly.

This posture didn't seem like an attempt to subdue the other party, but more like an attempt to take their lives. Uncle Solan broke out in a cold sweat, and instead of feeling the pain of being harassed by loan sharks, he felt the fear of an impending murder scene, and four lives were at stake.

I don't know if he really just wanted to teach the thugs a lesson or was showing mercy, but the young man didn't kill them in the end. Instead, he chose to deprive the thugs of their ability to move using various methods that did not harm their lives, could be completely cured, and were extremely painful.

Fractures, wounds, mouths, limbs... He is good at roaming around the battlefield, causing all kinds of damage to weak points. As long as there is a slight hesitation, he will stare at the wound and attack it desperately until the small wound becomes a source of pain.

This is a bloody atmosphere.

Uncle Solan had been working hard in Backlund for many years. He had come into contact with a large number of factory workers, various people at the bottom of society, idle thugs, arrogant managers and foremen in the consortium, and all kinds of guys who had just been released from prison with criminal records...

People who are not so wealthy always come to Uncle Solan for job recommendations for various reasons. After interacting with so many people, Uncle Solan thinks he is proficient in the art of judging people.

He immediately realized that this bloody temperament was not possessed by street thugs or petty thieves, but was actually acquired between life and death.

Uncle Solan thought back and realized that he had seen this bloody temperament once and it was something he would never forget.

It happened to a serial killer. Uncle Solan witnessed the crime scene and met the killer who was about to leave.

What kind of eyes were those? Endless desire and madness flowed in their bloody temperament. Excitement and joy twisted into a surging river of blood, until it drowned Uncle Solan.

Later, sitting in the interrogation room of Sivellas Field, Uncle Solan was still trembling a little. Those bloody eyes were deeply imprinted in his mind, oozing with trembling desire and pleasure.

It stayed in his mind for a long, long time.

After this incident, the serial killer was quickly apprehended. Few murderers could escape the Loen Citizen System's tracking for so long. Some said the killer had fled to the wilderness, a dungeon, or another city, or perhaps mastered some sinister secret technique, preventing the Citizen System from tracking him.

But it didn't matter. Uncle Solan wasn't interested in any of this. It was just that those eyes had been staring at him day and night for too long. The day after the murderer was arrested, he spent a huge sum of money on long-term psychological treatment with a psychiatrist until those bloody eyes completely disappeared from his mind.

Compared to those eyes, although the young man in front of him had the same bloody temperament, the young man's eyes were much cleaner in comparison.

Rather than being clean, it's more like... empty, with nothing in it. It's more like an... inorganic tool.

But suddenly, the young man...that Field, suddenly seemed to come to his senses, threw the bloody weapon away in disgust, and immediately trembled like a coward. He was completely different from the fierce thug before, and even apologized to him repeatedly.

In reality, Field hadn't really thought anything of it. He was simply intimidated by the aura of these men, and his cowardly spirit had flown away. His fighting instincts and muscle memory outran his cowardly consciousness, and he simply AFKed and killed the monsters to solve all his problems.

By the time the soul catches up with the body, the battle is over.

It's such a bad habit, damn it, why can't I change it?

Whenever faced with an emergency, this coward would always be scared out of his wits, and his body would always act faster than his brain.

At this point, Field burst out with an endless desire to survive and yelled at Uncle Solan.

"What are you standing there for?! Run!"

Uncle Solan was dragged away by Field before he could react. After a few steps, Field turned around and continued to attack with the fire extinguisher, finally catching Uncle Solan and escaping the scene.

"No, no...wait a minute..."

This frantic run made Uncle Solan breathless. He wanted to shout for help but was too tired to speak. Whatever he said was ignored by Field who was concentrating on escaping.

In the end, Uncle Solan was half-dragged and half-pulled to the door of his house, lying on the ground like a puddle of mud, completely turned into a corpse.

Field skillfully lifted Uncle Solan's head, pulled him up from the ground, and swept it towards the door lock to open it. After locking the door, Field pushed some furniture behind the door to prop it up. Finally, he carried the exhausted Uncle Solan to the bed.

The middle-aged man, devastated, lay in bed for a long time before finally recovering. Field was playing with his terminal nearby, watching over him. Both nutritional cream and warm water were thoughtfully placed within easy reach.

No matter how strange or dangerous this guy is, it is an indisputable fact that he just saved me from the gangsters.

If Field hadn't intervened, he would have been shortchanged today and had to have some of his fingers chopped off by the debt collectors to pay off his debt.

Uncle Solan stood up and sat on the bed, not knowing what to say. Finally, he said:

"Thank you."

"Oh, it's okay. We're all neighbors, it's what we should do."

"I don't know how to thank you..."

Uncle Solan was not one who was good at expressing gratitude, and could only try to show his sincerity clumsily.

"Uh... your fire extinguisher is lost. I'll bring it back to you..."

"What? A fire extinguisher? Oh, that one?"

Field waved his hand.

"It's okay, no need."

"But didn't you say that the fire extinguisher could talk?"

Uncle Solan probed cautiously.

"I thought it was something very important to you."

"It's just something I picked up on the street, how important can it be?" Field said casually as he sorted things out in the house. "Besides, the jar is already dead."

"Uh...dead?"

"Yes, it stopped talking after I sprayed it. It must be dead."

"..."

Uncle Solan decided not to pursue these unnecessary details.

"So, you've just moved into Rachel's apartment and you're unfamiliar with the place, so you must be overwhelmed by a lot of things.

"I am a grateful person. Tell me, young man, what difficulties do I, an old fellow like Solan, have that I can help you with?"

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