Anyway, his ancestors had experienced this kind of wandering life before.
Besides, he had many "safe houses." Wasn't this exactly what they were for?
But could he really escape?
Or rather, could his legs truly outrun a thruster personally crafted by the Chariot?
The answer was no.
Seeing how well the guy below could run, Lan Qingyou's damned competitive streak flared up.
If she let him keep running like this, wouldn't he end up running right out of the city?
Looking at the clearly demarcated boundary between the city ruins and the stones and soil outside, Lan Qingyou increased her speed.
From first gear to second, then second to third.
Moving at lightning speed, Lan Qingyou left a trail of vapor in the sky and zoomed ahead of Sherlock, intercepting him before he could leave the city.
Boom!
An Explosion Potion detonated right before Sherlock's despairing eyes.
He wanted to drag more slaves to take the hit for him.
But there were no slaves left nearby—or rather, as soon as he had started fleeing and using them as shields, the slaves had scattered.
It was true they couldn't refuse Sherlock's orders, but that didn't mean they couldn't run before the orders were given.
Now that they had fled into the distance, they received Sherlock's command.
But trying to run back and save him from that distance was a pipe dream.
And so...
"Aaaagh!!!"
Blown back by the blast, Sherlock slammed heavily onto the ground, spitting out mouthfuls of bloody froth.
His hazy eyes reflected the figures of those "low-lifes."
He reached out, wanting those approaching low-lifes to save him, their master.
But the slaves who had arrived from all directions upon receiving his order stopped in unison at that moment.
Sherlock's life signs grew weaker and weaker, and as a result, the hold of his commands grew weaker as well.
Finally, crocodile tears flowed from the corners of Sherlock's eyes, and then, with immense frustration, he closed them and died!
At the same time, the slaves felt the contracts on them vanish.
"The contract... is gone?"
The moment the contract disappeared, everyone was stunned.
Although they had all been longing for this moment, after being enslaved for a month or two, it felt surreal when it actually happened.
"Waaaaah!!!"
But in the next second...
With someone's cry of joy, everyone snapped out of the stupor of this life-changing moment.
"It's gone!"
"It's really gone!"
"Fantastic!"
"That damned squid is finally dead!"
Most people began to cheer; men and women alike shed tears of joy and embraced one another happily.
A small group of those with lingering resentment picked up weapons and aimed them at the nearby overseers holding whips.
These bastards had relied on their quickness to kneel and their skill at brown-nosing to become Sherlock's tools of oppression. Now, they had to pay the price.
And so, a small-scale battle broke out amidst the celebrating crowd.
Although the overseers were high-level, they were no match for the armed "thugs" closing in from all sides.
Just as one of them cut down an attacker, several wounds were slashed into his back by swords.
Thus, the fight didn't last long, barely making a ripple.
"Wait! Where's the witch?! Where's the Witch of the Tower?!"
Amidst the cheers and the satisfying revenge, someone finally remembered the woman who had saved them from the abyss.
However, when they turned to look, the woman's figure was already gone from the sky.
She had blown through their hearts like a gust of wind, only to drift away and vanish.
She was like a bolt of lightning that had rescued them from the depths, leaving behind a brief light to be remembered.
"What do we do now?"
Suddenly finding themselves free, the crowd was momentarily lost, not knowing what to do next.
Just then, someone spoke up.
"Should we throw that beast Sherlock's corpse into the mass grave? Just like those he tortured to death."
This proposal met with everyone's approval.
And so, the local hegemon of the Abandoned Lake, the King of Kings of the Abandoned City, the owner of the unfinished Crystal Palace, and the slave owner of tens of thousands was casually discarded in the mass grave outside the city.
There wasn't even a straw mat.
It could be said they gave Sherlock no dignity whatsoever.
Meanwhile, the woman the rescued slaves described as both a lightning bolt and a gust of wind was currently in an alley, holding a little white mouse.
This alley was the very place where she and the mouse had encountered each other the previous night.
Since someone had cleared the area, there were no more corpses, only the traces of battle left from the night before.
"Alright, Spoon, hurry up and lead the way. There should be some treasures here, right?"
Looking at the little white mouse in her hand, a sweet smile appeared on Lan Qingyou's face—she was just short of letting out a "jie jie jie" villainous laugh.
The sight of it terrified the little white mouse, Spoon.
"Squeak—"
The little white mouse squeaked at Lan Qingyou with a look of innocence.
Lan Qingyou couldn't understand what it specifically meant.
Under Steel Wool's murderous gaze, the little white mouse flailed its limbs as if trying to gesture something.
"You want to take me somewhere, I assume?"
Lan Qingyou said uncertainly.
It couldn't be helped; although the creature was a juvenile, it hadn't been tamed yet.
Otherwise, Lan Qingyou would have long since set Spoon on the ground to let it run on its own.
"Squeak squeak!"
Hearing Lan Qingyou say that, the little white mouse's eyes lit up, and it pointed in a direction with its right front paw.
Following the mouse's navigation, Lan Qingyou passed through several dilapidated streets and, after many twists and turns, finally stopped in front of a building.
This building was none other than the back of the palace Sherlock had been building, which he had named the Crystal Palace—the very one she had just bombed into a collapse.
Looking up at the building she had destroyed, Lan Qingyou's expression wasn't great.
After all, she was the one who had ruined this place. If she had known there were treasures here, she wouldn't have destroyed it so thoroughly. Now, she hadn't even left herself a door.
It made sense.
After dropping over seven hundred bottles of Explosion Potion, it would have been a miracle if this unfinished palace, which didn't even have a magic shield, hadn't collapsed.
No, it wasn't exactly that it didn't have a magic shield.
It was just that the shelter inside the palace was too small to cover the entire structure.
Maybe Level 2? Level 3?
Lan Qingyou looked at the palace ruins and calculated.
Eventually, she gave up on that pointless question and began to wonder how to enter the ruins.
Although the construction crew who had been working here had scattered following Sherlock's death...
Dealing with the stones of these ruins in broad daylight was still somewhat difficult.
Just as Lan Qingyou was considering whether to come back at night, Spoon pointed out a path for her.
Rate on N.U.
