Instigator and Protector of Violence-Chapter 369: [Echoes]

When the last two people also knelt before Ethan.

Johnson, who had just regained a bit of strength and was ready to seize an opportunity to fight from the side, was completely stunned.

It was like a chasm of difference.

Earlier he naively thought that he could easily defeat Ethan by himself, without any of the other three needing to make a move.

He knew very well the strength of those three.

They were genuine monsters and war machines, killing moves not easily deployed even in the military.

They had all emerged victorious from piles of corpses and seas of blood.

Johnson once attempted to challenge them, wanting to take someone's place, but couldn't last even a minute.

Just the fighting spirit they emitted made him almost unable to make a move.

That was an existence he could only look up to.

Yet now, these three individuals of such caliber were all lying at the feet of that young man named Ethan, in less than five minutes.

Johnson was trembling, unable to recall the last time he trembled.

He had originally believed that his formidable self had already eradicated such weak instincts from his body.

But apparently, he just hadn't encountered a true powerhouse before.

His eyes saw that someone seemed not to have fully surrendered; that person was crawling on the ground, trying to escape.

But that person seemed to have forgotten one thing, which was that here, they had created marks of blood, forming a deathmatch arena.

In this arena, only the death of an opponent allows one to leave alive.

So he could only futilely squirm at the edge, like an extremely unsightly grub.

Ethan strolled over, not striking immediately, but rather tilted his ear as if listening to something.

After listening for a while, he raised his hand and dropped his sword, plunging it into the person's chest, sending him on his final journey.

With this person's death, the deathmatch arena was finally lifted.

And Johnson also heard sounds, sounds from outside—the sound of gunfire stopping.

Who won?

Amazingly, Johnson had no doubt; he knew the winner must be Ethan's people.

In those few minutes just earlier, Ethan's display of complete coercive power rendered Johnson's brain unable to think.

And the fact was, the Bolita Clan won.

As the final bullet casing fell to the ground.

Vincent wiped his hands with the clothes of a nearby dead body and lit a cigarette.

He hadn't actually exerted much effort.

The family guard expressed a strength far exceeding his expectations, even though their enemies were actually more than twice their number.

Those wanting to deal with Ethan had indeed invested heavily.

Unfortunately, they didn't know what they were up against.

Bolita Clan's guards fired like lightning, moved like the wind, killing through the estate like phantoms.

Just as Ethan had told him in the car, he would bring everyone home.

Vincent looked back at the guards, standing among bullets and corpses, silent to the point of being sacred.

He knew all of this was Ethan's power, and his gaze ultimately fixed on that large mansion.

In his eyes, there was only comfort and pride.

This is my brother, this is the leader of the Bolita Clan.

This is their era.

When the cigarette was smoked halfway, Vincent seemed to hear a sound from far away.

Like a bell ringing.

A bell sound?

——————————

It was indeed a bell ringing.

Wenster's bell was tolling.

It was the emergency incident bell within the city.

It urged everyone to stay indoors and avoid going out.

So what was happening in the city?

Intense crossfire.

In the core territory of the Bolita Clan, a large number of unfamiliar gunmen suddenly appeared, launching a sudden attack.

But the Bolita Clan was not unprepared.

In fact, at the onset of the gunfight, the counterattack was extremely swift.

They didn't seem like they were being attacked; rather, it seemed as if they had been waiting there.

It was a "waiting for the rabbit" tactic.

During their counterattack, besides gunfire, piercing flashes of light erupted intermittently.

Moreover, when the battle reached a stalemate, the Prohibition Bureau and Kingdom Statistical Bureau suddenly joined the fight, forming a two-pronged attack.

This was a carefully prepared ambush.

"Now, who do you think will win?"

The bell sound naturally reached the Governor's office as well.

In fact, the telephone in the Governor's office had started ringing loudly more than ten minutes ago, but no one answered it.

The assistant originally responsible for answering calls, Gohn, was pouring the third round of tea.

"I know your schemes, the Prohibition Bureau and Statistical Bureau, right? But how many people do they have? We have prepared enough people for this time, relying only on the two bureaus' people and Ethan's leftover rabble, do you think there's a chance of victory?"

Naruf looked at Ned's expression, feeling uncomfortable but not truly believing they would lose.

He had been here for more than three months, already uncovering the details of the place.

The two bureaus didn't have many people, and their leaders were of average ability. With the possibility of the northern military's involvement limited, and Ethan having taken away the capable core forces.

Then there's no way they could lose.

The Eriman Clan had invested heavily this time, deploying their family's mercenaries—all good hands retired from the military, having roamed the seas for years as pirates and adventurers, well-trained in combat strength.

Would this kind of sea wolf be comparable to the ordinary city black mud dwellers?

Thinking of this, Naruf felt somewhat agitated, unable to resist walking to the window to see the faintly discernible battlefield.

He naturally saw those occasional explosive flashes of light.

"Sun God Sect, huh...?"

He couldn't help but sneer.

This was an unexpected part.

But how much power does the Sun God Sect have within the Kingdom?

Instead, it would become another hold, adding another layer of guilt to Ned later on.

"If your chance of winning relies solely on these fanatics..."

"You don't understand."

Ned suddenly interrupted him.

Ned actually didn't know Ethan's specific arrangements, but he believed in Ethan.

Without reason.

There was even a tint of fanatical belief in his eyes.

And this tint also appeared on the battlefield.

It wasn't just in the eyes of those few Sun God Sect followers, but more prominently in the eyes of those considered Bolita Clan's lower-rank mobs.

They seemed to hear something, then felt filled with unimaginable power.

At that moment, they seemed to hear some sort of echo.

From a very distant place.

Perhaps the sky.

Or possibly, the Royal Capital.

Southern Royal Capital District, Sanctuary.

In the pitch-black enormous building, people's prayers seemed capable of reaching the highest heavens.

"Our great Lord, may Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven."

"Amen."