Rusty Dragon

The protracted 'witch hunting' had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years' War,  and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise.
Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said—
"Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!"

They all call me Great Master

Alk hadn't yet reached home when he saw a crowd gathered at his front door.


Immediately, the retired assassin's heart tightened.


Although he had left certain precautions in place at home, what if something had happened?


With this thought, Alk's figure once again became nearly invisible, appearing instantaneously beside the front door in a bizarre manner that ordinary people couldn't capture.


Then, the retired assassin saw his own son and daughter—


Alvin's face bore the mark of a whip, still bleeding.


The siblings were whispering to each other.


Or, rather, it was within Alk's expectations.


But apart from the siblings, the rest was baffling to the retired assassin.


For example: the hanging corpse in the yard.


For example: Old Town's Police Chief standing in the yard.


For example: the man and woman in the yard who seemed to be a perfect match.


566 'Spirit Medium' speeches, can't be trusted. Up!