Chapter 59：A Complete Victory

Allen's men strictly followed his orders.

Not a single male, even those just over one meter tall, survived.

As the flames raged, everyone was busy escaping, rushing towards the only exit.

Pete and his men spread a net, waiting for the fleeing soldiers. They had no time to distinguish anyone.

Pete directly ordered his men to shoot, and arrows rained down, killing them all.

The weaker women, who didn't seize the chance to escape and were trapped in the fire, were the lucky ones who survived.

Before long, Pete, having cleared the battlefield and killed the resisting enemies, brought over a dozen female captives of varying ages.

Allen had already dealt with the chief and third leaders, torturing them until they confessed everything, even the most trivial of secrets.

Seeing the two trembling, terrified men, Allen had no more time to waste on them.

With a wave of his hand, he lifted their restrictions, letting the poison mist recede.

"You two, fight my men. If you survive, I'll let you go."

The fat and thin fishmonger leaders stared at Allen in shock. "You... you mean it?"

Allen ignored them and turned to Pete and his men. "Didn't you want revenge? Kill these two."

Pete, already eager, coldly smiled and called his men, eyes fixed on the two leaders.

"Shoot!" Pete had learned his lesson; the boss didn't say they couldn't attack from a distance.

The two leaders, thinking they had a chance if they fought with all their might despite their injuries, were dismayed.

But the men before them were shameless, shooting arrows at two heavily injured, exhausted men.

Allen watched approvingly. Killing to build courage was important, but using one's advantage and not giving the enemy a chance was true maturity.

The result was predictable. Any man tortured for an hour in such a sensitive area would struggle to stand, let alone dodge dozens of swift, sharp arrows.

In an instant, they were turned into pincushions, dead.

Their worthless bodies were thrown into the murky river to feed the fish.

The flames reflected on the river, painting a beautiful yet brutal picture of blood and smoke on the Bakken River.

An unremarkable fishmonger gang, known for bullying the weak, was wiped out, causing little stir.

But the fishmonger base, not far from the black market of Bacha, with its towering flames and screams, did catch some attention.

Allen, unbothered, led his men and their spoils back to their base.

The boats were filled with the fishmonger gang's wealth, a group of female captives, a mastiff, and a Sky-Cracking Beetle.

In the surrounding darkness, eyes watched the brazen looters.

"The fishmongers weren't nobodies. Backed by the Insect Valley Tribe, their three leaders were formidable fighters, yet they were so easily wiped out. Looks like Bacha's black market has a new group of tough guys..."

"We need to report to the master. With the fishmongers gone, we should quickly take over their market..."

"..."

Different eyes saw the same scene, drawing different conclusions.

But Allen didn't care. Today was about making a statement, showing the underworld that he was not to be trifled with.

Of course, Allen had not revealed his extraordinary abilities during the entire operation, avoiding the attention of Bacha's true big shots.

"Pete, you and Fischer sort through these female captives. Keep the harmless ones and distribute them as rewards."

Pete had been eagerly awaiting this.

The dozen or so female captives, though not many, were all in their prime, otherwise, the fishmongers wouldn't have kept them.

In this brutal, primitive world, the lower classes didn't have complex customs about a woman's purity.

Even remarried women were expected to bring their children to their new husbands, who would treat them as their own.

With low productivity, an extra person meant an extra laborer, especially if they could work.

So, whether Pete or Fischer, these poor men who had never been with a woman, kept eyeing the female captives after the battle.

As long as they were women, in their prime, and could bear children, they were valuable. Even if they were thin, they could be fattened up, just like the orphan boys had been.

After a night of killing and looting, they had amassed about ten thousand copper coins' worth of goods.

One had to admit, the fishmongers were a poor bunch.

Allen wasn't stingy. He took the bulk of the wealth, ten heavy gold coins, plus the mastiff and the beetle.

In this world, gold and silver had high exchange rates, not just because they were hard to mine and refine, but also due to their mystical properties.

Gold and silver contained a trace of extraordinary natural energy, often refined by mystics into essential instruments, hence their high value.

Some rarer metals were even more valuable, beyond measurement with copper or iron. They couldn't be bought with gold or silver coins.

Allen's men shared ten thousand copper coins and goods worth over twenty thousand copper coins, but the most important prize was the female captives.

These women, long abused by the fishmongers, were persuaded (or deceived) by Pete to stay.

This delighted the young men.

Only the ten or so boys just over ten years old were upset.

Though they got an extra hundred copper coins, they'd rather have women than money.

The operation was a complete success, and everyone wore satisfied smiles, even if their happiness was built on blood and plunder.

But Allen could righteously claim it was a just war! After all, who would admit to being unjust?

Just then, Allen felt a sense of being watched!

Not by an ordinary person; this gaze was definitely not from an ordinary person!

Allen's alarm bells rang, but he kept a calm exterior, laughing with Pete and the others while secretly using his natural senses to cautiously search for the watcher.