Chapter 1599 - 106: Interrogation_2

The Regent King established a series of new laws, such as having the Blood Tax Officers directly manage the blood populace, with the Night Race retreating to a secondary role.

Under the Regent King’s drastic reforms, he made the bloated and rotten Night Race run efficiently again. At the same time, this directly harmed the interests of the Night Race themselves, as they could no longer satisfy their hunger and thirst at any time and place, and had to wait for the timely distribution of the blood tax.

Fortunately, the Regent King did not make the rules too rigid; he allowed for some loss of blood populace, which became the time for the Night Race to fill their bellies.

The blood populace thought they had narrowly escaped a catastrophe, but unbeknownst to them, another larger nightmare awaited them. In the blink of an eye, the empty blood tax station turned into a banquet of revelry, with torn flesh and bloodstains everywhere. After draining the blood populace of all their blood, the Night Race opened containers filled with blood and drank greedily.

Medi did not join the revelry. As a pure-blood Night Race, his supply of blood tax was ample, unlike the inferior Night Race, who starved and feasted erratically.

He glanced at the time on his watch, calculating silently in his heart. According to the Regent King’s requirements, they had a few hours left to revel here, cleaning up these messy affairs along the way.

"Do you have something to do next?"

Suddenly, a strange voice came from behind Medi. He was about to answer when he suddenly realized the visitor had ill intentions.

As he turned around, a cold metal pierced into his abdomen. The slender, sharp blade punctured his organs. Immediately, countless fine iron branches sprouted from the sword body, quickly enveloping his internal organs. As long as the enemy wanted, they could crush Medi’s organs into a bloody pulp.

Do not panic.

Medi warned himself. He was a pure-blood Night Race with an incredibly strong undying nature; even with his organs hollowed out, he could survive. Not to mention, there was still abundant blood awaiting him.

A searing pain surged from within Medi’s flesh, as if a nameless fire was drilling into his wound, burning his entrails.

Silver!

Medi immediately realized the enemy’s weapon contained silver. The opponent was well-prepared.

"Thanks to you all for gathering them together, otherwise I would have had to assassinate them individually."

A ghostly voice whispered behind Medi. In the corner of his sight, he caught a glimpse of Bologue’s appearance.

Bologue did not know Medi, but Medi knew Bologue. In the Rebellious Royal Court, Bologue was a renowned figure. Medi’s heart pounded fiercely, extracting blood within his body, transporting it to his limbs and arteries. But the more furiously his heart pounded, the more the silver and death metal eroded his body with his blood.

Medi rose the idea of mobilizing Ether, but when his will issued the command, it was like crashing into an invisible wall, rebounding sharply.

The Alchemy Matrix refused to respond to Medi’s will. His Rectangular Soul Critical had been breached by Bologue.

A cold despair gripped Medi tightly, and then the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground echoed. Looking at the banquet scene below, the night-clan members, after a feast, clutched their throats painfully. The blood they had just swallowed, along with their own blood, rushed out of the cut throats.

They wove into crimson satin, all entwining around the petite dagger. Following the arm clutching the dagger, Medi saw the appearance of the visitor.

He wore a pitch-black suit, exuding an elusive humanistic aura similar to that of the Night Race. His skin was pale, and his irises were so crimson that they seemed to drip blood.

A massive terror assaulted his psyche. Medi wanted to scream, but an inexplicable suffocating sensation filled his throat, as though cement had been poured into him, turning his lungs solid.

"Se... Serey."

Medi rasped out Serey’s name. Serey’s arrival hit Medi far more profoundly than Bologue’s presence.

He was a legend of the Night Race’s past, eternally nailed to the pillar of shame as a traitor.

"Yes, yes, it’s me, Serey, the renegade Serey, the betrayer Serey, fated for the punishment of daylight Serey."

Serey toyed with the dagger, his heart burgeoning with an inexplicable thrill as he once again used it to kill his kin after so many years.

The Night Race howled, clutching their throats, but as Serey stepped over their bodies, their struggling forms stilled one by one, losing all vitality, a pale mass.

Serey glanced at the Night Race corpses, lying chaotically strewn across the dead blood populace.

"See, whether they are Night Race or blood populace, they look identical after death."

Serey approached Medi, laying the sharp dagger lightly on his throat. The metallic pointed edge brushed against Medi’s neck, and he doubted not that a mere flick of Serey’s wrist could pierce his throat, twist his spine.

"Bologue."

Serey called Bologue’s name, then snapped his fingers. The next moment, Bologue’s Ether silently blanketed the entire blood tax station. Thick walls bulged from the ground, blocking doors, sealing windows, severing all contact with the outside world.

The Defender’s Ether permeated the building. Any exchange of Ether with the interior or exterior would crash into Bologue’s Ether, subsequently dissolving and destroying due to Ethereum Mutual Exclusion.

"What’s your name."

Serey stared into Medi’s eyes, a crimson glow flickering.

Medi displayed a miserable smile, shaking his head in struggle, "I am not of your bloodline; your power cannot affect me."

A High Tier Night Race can directly command those of a lesser blood concentration within his lineage but cannot control across different bloodlines.

"Your bloodline, your descendants are all dead, Serey. You’re nothing but a world-abandoned loner."

"Hmm... Let me correct you."

Serey mused for a moment, folding his arms, "I actually have a daughter, so I’m not strictly a loner."

Medi was momentarily stunned; this was not as he envisaged. Just as he was about to retort further, Serey slapped him across the face. Instantly, he felt dizzy, eyes bulging, a sharp ringing echoing in his mind, losing facial sensation, leaving only absolute numbness.

"I also need to correct you on one more thing. My daughter and I are the only lawful Night Race in the world."

Serey raised two fingers as if signaling a peace sign to Medi.

"Which means that you, and all Night Race in the Land of Eternal Night, are not considered legitimate, let alone having any human rights."

Serey sheathed the dagger, cautioning against accidental slips, thoroughly killing Medi. Following, he raised a hand to Bologue, seemingly requesting something from him.

Bologue remained silent. A metal shoot burst from Medi’s chest, wandering lively within him.

The metal shoot hovered beside Serey’s hand. Supported by Ether, it once again proliferated, transforming, sharp tools of various shapes emerging from the shoot, securely hanging from extended hooks.

"By the way, allow me to introduce you. This is the famous Bologue, my good friend," Serey casually selected a hook, grinning at Medi, "we share many interests, like using this hook when interrogating others."

Saying this, Serey pried open the wound in Medi’s abdomen, inch by inch inserting the hook, leaning close to Medi’s ear, softly speaking.

"Let’s make a bet on which organ we can hook."

Serey gestured towards the blood-filled container, "Don’t worry, there’s plenty of blood here, you have ample room for trial and error."

Medi’s eyes widened in shock, his body trembling violently, the iron hook plunged into his abdomen.