Chapter 3 : Outrage in the East District

An hour ago, at the border of the territory, there was an unknighted area spanning several tens of kilometers. Two figures, like ghosts, were engaged in a high-speed chase. The man in front was around forty years old, fierce and ruthless, with a terrifying ten-centimeter scar on his face. He gripped a shiny broadsword, exuding a strong, bloodthirsty aura from head to toe.

The pursuer was a young man, around twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, dressed in elegant attire. His perfectly symmetrical face was marked by an intense aura of killing intent. He wielded a refined steel curved blade inscribed with the word "SHADOW." This weapon was known as the Cold Moon Curved Blade.

"Judge, you've been chasing me for three days and three nights. Is it really worth working so hard for your meager salary?" The scar-faced man halted at the riverbank, his eyes locked onto the young man behind him like a wild beast.

"Butcher, you've lost all conscience, slaughtering innocent people and committing heinous crimes." Judge stopped as well, his voice unwavering. "Today is your judgment day!"

"Hmph!" Butcher snorted coldly. "Do you SHADOW people truly see yourselves as saviors? There are countless villains in this world—do you think you can kill them all?"

"Eliminate violence for peace, punish traitors and the wicked. May the blood of our generation pave the way for a brighter future! People like you, Butcher, will all be eradicated by SHADOW." Judge's voice was firm.

"Hmph!" Butcher snorted again, smirking. "Do you really think I'm afraid of you? Your teammates have already scattered, and you believe you can kill me alone? What a foolish dream!"

"Enough talk. Prepare to die!" Judge declared.

Whoosh!

With that, Judge shot forward like a lightning bolt, his machete gleaming with a cold, deadly light.

"You think you can kill me? Unlikely." Butcher sneered, swinging his broadsword.

A piercing clash erupted, sending sparks flying in all directions as blades collided wildly.

After more than ten exchanges, Judge dodged Butcher's strike, flipped his wrist, and sliced open a deep, ten-centimeter wound on Butcher's waist, causing blood to gush out.

"Hmm? You actually wounded me? Damn it!" Butcher growled.

Judge quickly sidestepped, raising his blade to block Butcher's furious counterattack. The force of the strike sent him staggering five or six steps back, a sharp tingling coursing through his arms, briefly disrupting his breath.

Butcher did not immediately attack again. Instead, he tore a piece of cloth from his clothing to staunch the bleeding. At that moment, the satellite phone on Judge's belt rang, causing his expression to shift slightly.

Only a handful of people knew this number—it was reserved for emergencies. If this phone rang, it meant something serious had happened.

"This is Judge. Who is this?" He glanced at Butcher, confirming he wasn't making a move, then answered the call.

"This is Casey!" came a heavy voice from the other end. "The Commander's daughter has been kidnapped, and her life is in danger. Get to Cloud City immediately!"

"What!?" Judge shouted, an overwhelming cold aura bursting from him. "Give me a few hours—I'll be there soon!"

Hanging up, he turned his gaze back to Butcher. "I don't have time to play with you anymore. Be a better person in your next life!"

A lethal killing intent engulfed Butcher, his pupils shrinking to the size of a needle. He realized he could not counter this move—his escape routes were blocked by countless sword edges. There was nowhere to run. In an instant, countless slashes pierced through his body, and the scene fell into silence. Only the howling mountain wind remained.

The next second, Butcher collapsed into a pool of blood.

"You... are... too strong..." he murmured with his final breath before his body went still.

Judge did not spare him another glance. He turned and sped toward the road, pulling out his satellite phone and dialing a number. When the call connected, he barked, "Notify all three-star and above members in the Eastern District—no matter their location or activity—they must rush to Cloud City immediately! Any violators will be executed!"

With this command, all SHADOW operatives of rank three or higher in the Eastern District halted their tasks and made haste toward Cloud City. This was an unprecedented event in SHADOW's history. For a moment, all factions in the Eastern District were thrown into a panic, unaware of what massive event had just unfolded.

In Cloud City's Earth Hotel, inside room 808, a man and a woman sat on a luxurious sofa. The man, in his twenties, dressed in designer clothing, exuded a powerful presence. He held a cigar in his left hand and a glass of red wine in his right.

The woman possessed an otherworldly beauty that could make even the heavens envious. She appeared to be around twenty-four or twenty-five years old, with delicate features and an alluring figure. Her skin was as smooth as cream.

This woman was Harleen, renowned as Ozin's most beautiful woman and the mother of Tasha. At this moment, her red-rimmed eyes were filled with worry, and her entire body trembled slightly.

"Mr. Pena, please… please help me find my daughter." Harleen stood up and knelt before the man, tears streaming down her face.

The man took a slow puff of his cigar before exhaling smoke directly toward Harleen's face. "Harleen, did you ever think you'd need my help one day?"

His voice was laced with bitterness. "You used to despise me for being just a rich kid. I chased you for three years, yet you never even glanced at me."

He leaned forward, his gaze cold. "And now? Why are you lowering your proud head like this?"

"Mr. Pena," Harleen sobbed, kowtowing repeatedly. "Please, just help me… I have no one else to turn to."

"Do you really want my help?" Tony Pena glared at her with a wicked smile. "What's in it for me?"

Harleen trembled all over, understanding exactly what he wanted. Yet, she had no choice.

"If you help me find my daughter, I'll do anything…" she whispered, her voice breaking.

She knew the price he would demand. But for her daughter, she was willing to sacrifice everything—her dignity, her body, even her very life.