Chapter 444 Shack, Raid

The space inside the shack was much roomier than it appeared from the outside. With no lamps lit, the interior was barely illuminated by a few rays of dim light seeping through cracks in the walls.

Fine dust drifted through the air, and the damp atmosphere was thick with a rotting stench that made one involuntarily frown.

The wooden door was pushed open and quickly shut. A sinister-looking man with a broken brow walked into the room, his gaze subconsciously sweeping toward the nearby storage room.

Through the iron grate set into the door, a frail figure bound in hemp rope could be faintly seen, lying motionless on the storage room floor.

Her long velvet gown had lost its former splendor, stained with dust and dirt, but the garment was still relatively intact, showing no signs of being torn or violated.

A heavy dose of sleeping potion was enough to keep the baron's daughter, Ellie, unconscious from last night all the way until now.

Otherwise, without risking fatal or severe injury to her, they might not have been able to keep this greenhouse-raised tulip quiet and obedient throughout the entire ordeal.

To be honest, for a fair-skinned noble lady like her to fall into the hands of gang members for over ten hours and still have her dress decently arranged could be considered a minor miracle.

Of course, this was not because the members of the Horned Shark Gang possessed any outstanding moral qualities, nor because they felt any pity for the unlucky noble lady.

The real reason ultimately lay with her father, who was both a baron and the Charter Approval Officer.

"Is it dealt with cleanly?"

A deep, resonant voice rang out from the back of the room.

The leader of the Horned Shark Gang, "Horned Shark" Lyle, sat on a wine barrel and asked the broken-browed man who had just entered.

He had a burly build and a square face. Leaning by his feet was a massive double-bitted axe with blades larger than an ordinary person's torso.

As a Level 5 Professional Warrior, his outstanding physical attributes and the comprehensiveness granted by his Basic Class had allowed this man to make a name for himself as an adventurer many years ago. Now, he was the leader of a gang.

"Basically," the sinister-looking man nodded slowly, his scar-severed brow faintly visible in the shadows.

He was the second-in-command of the Horned Shark Gang, Batti, a Level 4 Rogue. He had originally been a teammate in the same Adventurer Squad as Lyle, later joining the organization his old captain founded.

"But that knife wasn't on him."

"It was probably snatched by someone else while he was showing it off. It doesn't matter, as long as he's dead," gang leader Lyle said, appearing quite indifferent toward the missing Scalpel.

After all, if it truly was some Rare item, he wouldn't possibly have given the blade to Bloody-Nosed Rat Jerry as a token.

Without the golden finger of an Attribute Panel, the Scalpel from another world was to them merely a piece of loot accidentally fished up during a voyage. Even if its design was bizarre and novel, practical testing revealed that it prioritized sharpness far too much at the expense of toughness. Its material structure lacked any real combat value, dooming it to be sold only as a collectible.

To Lyle, the original owner of the Scalpel, losing the item meant nothing compared to their current situation. As long as the witness to their relocation—that foolish street punk who had overestimated himself by trying to join their gang—was dead, that was all that mattered.

It was only because conditions were limited this morning, and disposing of a corpse would have been troublesome and time-consuming. Otherwise, he would have slaughtered that little rat on the spot instead of letting him live this long.

Batti did not reply. He took a cup of hot water handed over by a nearby lackey, moistened his lips to confirm it was safe, and only then began to sip it slowly.

Companions to darkness and shadows, focused on Agility and dexterity, possessing outstanding stealth capabilities...

Because of a [Rogue]'s inherent class traits, they were often associated with assassins and killers in many situations outside of adventuring.

Batti was naturally no exception.

Ever since he left their original Adventurer Squad alongside Lyle to establish the Horned Shark Gang, only twenty percent of the blood staining his daggers belonged to monsters. The vast majority of the rest came from adventurers, town residents, and rival factions.

He had grown practically numb to killing street punks like Jerry, so naturally, he wouldn't harbor any unnecessary thoughts about it.

His cold eyes stared at the noble girl behind the storage room door. After a long while, he murmured quietly, "The extraction ship should have arrived by noon today at the latest."

"You know the current situation." "Horned Shark" Lyle's tone was deep and steady, yet it faintly revealed some irritation. "The port has been completely locked down. It's not just routine inspections. The guards from the Governor's Mansion are even digging out the ballast stones of every departing ship to check them. It's not just for show."

"Don't worry. That 'lord' said that if things tightened up, he would give us a signal and arrange another way for us to leave."

"A signal?" Broken Brow Batti sneered. Having spent many years together, he couldn't be more familiar with the other man. Even though Lyle currently sat in the position of gang boss, Batti didn't grant him any particular respect.

"Do you know how many patrols of Governor's Mansion guards I ran into on my way back just now, coming to search the Saltwater District?"

"We're just sewer rats who can't see the light of day now, bo—ss."

Batti dragged out his final syllable, his tone laced with undisguised sarcasm.

"Those noble lords sit on their sofas drinking red wine, and with a casually tossed bone, they have us howling as we tear into their rivals."

"If we bite too lightly and it's ineffective, the lords are unsatisfied. If we bite too hard and draw blood, we're the first ones tossed out when it's time for the reckoning!"

"Lyle, do you still not get it!?"

From beginning to end, Batti had opposed Lyle's plan.

Adventurers and gang members were completely different.

The former only needed to be responsible for themselves. They were like a swarm of locusts passing through—no matter how vile or extreme their actions, they could just dust off their hands and move to a new place.

The latter, however, was a proper faction and organization. It required manpower and territory, demanded careful management, and involved countless entanglements.

With the Horned Shark Gang's level of power, they absolutely shouldn't have gotten involved in an incident of this magnitude, let alone act as the perpetrators who kidnapped a baron's daughter.

A single mistake would lead to them being smashed to pieces.

"Are you scared?" Lyle raised his eyes. His face was shrouded in shadow, rendering his expression unreadable as his tone remained steady.

"Scared? Lyle, what's the point of discussing this now?" Broken Brow Batti wore a cold smile, but he spoke faster and faster. "I just think we should probably be considering our way out."

"The baron losing his daughter is like a poked hornet's nest. He didn't become the Charter Approval Officer purely by relying on that so-called baron title of his."

"Commissions from the Adventurers' Association are plastered all over the quest boards. Across the entirety of Barracuda Bay, there are probably hundreds of adventurers searching for us right now. Among them, how many do you think have already obtained a Class Level?"

"It's been so long. Where's the safe passage that lord promised? We haven't even seen a shadow of it, have we?"

"Initially, they promised it was just inviting the young lady over to be a guest for a few days to scare Baron Farrow, making him a bit more sensible during the next approval."

"And now?"

"With the current mobilization in Barracuda Bay, it's long since passed the point of teaching a lesson. How do you think we can still bow out of this?"

The Horned Shark Gang merely did the dirty work for those noble lords in the White Cliff District.

The organization's combat strength wasn't low. It had multiple Class Grade adventurers, and the Class Levels of the gang leader and the second-in-command had already reached Level 5 and Level 4, respectively, making them absolutely formidable.

However, they were restricted by the complex factional environment within the Saltwater District, deeply desiring to expand but unable to do so.

Under these circumstances, as soon as those nobles wielding power said the word, the sharks smelled blood and eagerly lunged forward on their own.

The specific terms of this exchange were actually quite simple.

The Horned Shark Gang used the intelligence provided from above to abduct Baron Farrow's daughter—without harming her, of course. It was purely to teach the Charter Approval Officer a lesson, forcing him to turn a blind eye to certain approval applications in his future work.

This way, the nobles gained their benefits. As for the Horned Shark Gang on the surface, after laying low for a period of time, they could simply change their name to something like the Fang Shark Gang or Narwhal Gang and use the resources and connections from the White Cliff District they acquired through this incident to rebuild.

But right now, with the situation having reached this point, things seemed to be gradually spiraling out of control.

A dead silence filled the shack.

The lackeys on both sides kept their eyes downcast and their mouths shut, not daring to utter a single word.

And although gang leader "Horned Shark" Lyle still held onto a sliver of wishful thinking in his heart, there was no denying that Batti was right.

The situation was plunging into an uncontrollable abyss. The sordid affairs of those nobles might now drag them all down with them.

"What's your idea?" he asked his second-in-command after a moment of silence.

Batti's gaze swept over the baron's daughter in the storage room once more. His expression was gloomy as he lowered his voice. "The goods... are still in our hands after all. This is our bargaining chip."

"And the targets of our negotiations don't necessarily have to be limited to those lords from the White Cliff District we know now."

"The merchant guilds, the Church, and even those people from the Southern Archipelagos... might also be interested."

Lyle's pupils contracted slightly. He naturally understood what the other man was referring to, but...

"You're playing with fire!" he snapped.

If there was still a chance to turn things around right now, taking the baron's daughter out of Barracuda Bay and handing her over to those people off the island would mean standing in complete opposition to Baron Farrow, and even the entire White Cliff District.

When that time came, if anything went wrong...

Not just him, but the entire Horned Shark Gang would be thoroughly annihilated.

"It's better than staying in a moldy wooden house by the sea, waiting for the tide to rise and drown us," Batti replied coldly. "The muddier we make the water, the more likely nobodies like us will survive."

"Think about it, boss."

"The name Horned Shark Gang is unusable now anyway. After we finish this job, we take the money and resources and flee. We change our name and head inland, or to some other coast. Whether it's doing business, starting another gang, or even going back to being adventurers, anything works."

"But first, we have to leave this damn Barracuda Bay!"

Lyle's heart gradually sank.

His chest heaving slightly, he looked at his second-in-command standing before him—the man whose strength in the gang was second only to his own, the old teammate who had followed him for years but whose thoughts were becoming increasingly difficult to fathom.

He could see something called ambition wildly growing and spreading deep within the other man's eyes.

When had this started?

Was it a dozen days ago, when he ignored the man's objections and forcibly accepted this mission?

Or even earlier, when the two of them left their team to establish the Horned Shark Gang in the Saltwater District?

Lyle couldn't see it clearly.

He didn't even know if Batti's proposal came from an inherently extreme and crazed personality, or if he was hiding a trump card that Lyle was unaware of.

"Keep a close eye on the goods." Lyle ultimately chose to compromise.

"We'll wait one last night. If we haven't received a signal by daybreak tomorrow... we'll talk."

Broken Brow Batti gave a slight nod, said nothing more, and retreated back into the shadows to the side.

But in the very next second, accompanied by a sharp, cold gleam flashing through the air, the dagger that had just been bathed in blood—long since wiped clean and sheathed—was once again gripped in his hand.

Shadow energy rippled silently, and a pair of cold eyes suddenly shot toward the door.

Noticing Batti's strange behavior, "Horned Shark" Lyle subconsciously gripped the massive double-bitted axe leaning beside him and stood up, relying on the trust built over many years despite the rift that had already formed with his second-in-command.

They didn't have to wait long. A flurry of footsteps suddenly rang out outside the shack.

And as if driven by a clear purpose rather than just passing by, the footsteps drew closer and closer.

Knock, knock, knock. The sound of someone knocking on the door echoed slowly.

No one answered.

The incorrect knocking rhythm was enough to prove that the visitor was not a member of the Horned Shark Gang.

The gang members had clearly all received professional training as well; they remained completely quiet in that moment, not daring to make a sound.

"Is anyone inside?" Seeing no response to the knocking, a crisp female voice rang out from outside the door.

Still, no one answered.

The air grew quiet once again. Not a single person in the entire room spoke.

They didn't hear the sound of footsteps fading away.

Which meant that the outsider who had knocked on the door was still standing right outside.

Crack. The soft sound of splintering wood was exceptionally piercing in the dead silence.

The already dilapidated door trembled slightly, a small crack appearing on its surface.

Immediately after...

Snap. Wood splinters flew into the air.

A small hole, about the thickness of a finger, split open in the door.

A soft, flesh-colored tentacle covered in slime and lined with suckers slowly squeezed through the small hole.

One, two, three...

A miniature octopus no larger than a quarter of an adult's palm squeezed out from the small hole in front of everyone, plopping softly onto the ground.

It struggled to its feet. Its eyeless little head swayed gently, as if sensing something.

Then, it slowly fixed on Batti.

Thrum—

Even though nothing had physically moved, this experienced Rogue felt as if he had been completely locked onto by some invisible presence.

Disregarding the noise he was making, he abruptly stepped forward and pointed his Short Dagger at the octopus.

Bang!

Awooo...

This was the shack's door suddenly being blasted to pieces, accompanied by a long, drawn-out wolf howl ringing out from beyond the wall at everyone's backs, coming from something that had unknowingly circled around to their rear.