"You will face retribution! The City Lord's Guard will never let you get away with this!"
"You're both dead! You're dead!"
Harry's furious shrieks rang out, but not for long.
Monica, gripping the Divine Serpent Sword tightly, slashed down in a swift, clean arc.
Blood gushed like a fountain, and Harry's head was sent flying high into the air.
Since Harry had intended to kill them, naturally, they couldn't let him live either.
Having Monica deliver the killing blow also helped cement their alliance—ensuring this young woman wouldn't betray him later.
All things considered, tonight had been dangerously close.
Harry's released aphrodisiac was potent enough to drive people into an emotional frenzy, causing hallucinations.
Even a gold-rank Awakener could have fallen victim to it.
Moreover, with Harry's special class as a Puppeteer, even a gold-rank Awakener might have been caught in his traps.
For Awakeners below gold rank, it would have been an effortless victory for him.
But unfortunately for Harry, he had run into John.
Whether it was the aphrodisiac or his so-called invincible physique and strength, John had easily overcome and crushed it all.
John glanced down at Harry's severed head lying on the ground, then at the red-furred ape, now transformed into a wood man.
Three missions—two already completed.
Only the mission to take the head of the Lord of Whitespire remained.
Should he continue and finish it?
After all, completing just one mission was enough to become a member of the Bathing Club.
He already had enough.
However, after thinking it through, John made up his mind.
With his current strength, eliminating the Lord of Whitespire would be an effortless task.
Since he had chosen to roam the continent, cleaning up scum like this whenever he encountered them seemed like a worthwhile pursuit.
He had already completely offended the Lord of Whitespire.
Might as well send them all to meet their maker in one go.
Having made his decision, John turned to Monica and asked:
"Monica, what brought you here in the first place?"
"I'm here to recruit new members for our Association," Monica replied earnestly.
John nodded but frowned slightly.
"Your strength is quite impressive. Why would you need to recruit personally? What's your Association called?"
"Punching Feminists!" Monica said proudly.
John: "…"
"You don't know," Monica continued, sighing.
"Every time I go out recruiting, people avoid me as soon as they hear the name Punching Feminists!
I tell them we're really good at punching, but that just makes them even more suspicious."
Listening to this, John couldn't help but think this girl was a bit too naive.
"You guys at Punching Feminists... you're really just talking about martial arts, right? Physical training? That kind of punching?"
"Of course!" Monica nodded rapidly.
"What else would it be? You're a weird one."
"I was a sickly kid," she added.
"My family was poor, and no one wanted to play with me. They bullied me instead.
So I started training my body to fight back.
But oddly enough, after I became an Awakener, even more people tried to pick on me."
John gave Monica a once-over—
With that curvy, athletic body, who wouldn't be tempted?
Especially with her rare, sun-kissed complexion.
Even though she dressed sloppily and didn't put much effort into grooming herself, she still exuded a wild, natural allure that made one's thoughts wander.
John coughed lightly and asked:
"What's your plan next?"
"I don't really know," Monica said.
"The President told me I have to bring back two new members this time, so I'll just keep looking."
"Why not come with me to Whitespire first?" John suggested.
"Let's exchange these heads for bounty rewards.
I'll even split it with you fifty-fifty."
At the mention of bounty rewards, Monica's eyes immediately lit up.
"Really? You'd split it half with me? Isn't that... a bit too generous?"
"You held off the red-furred ape and played a big role," John said calmly.
"Of course you deserve half."
"Alright!" Monica nodded firmly.
"I'll go with you!"
"Oh, by the way," she added shyly, "you still haven't told me your name.
We fought side by side—we're friends now, right?"
John nodded and extended his hand.
"My name's John.
Nice to meet you."
Meanwhile, elsewhere...
City Lord's Guard
"What a shitty government organization!
They're darker than the darkest gangs!"
Barton, a scrawny man resembling a monkey, cursed as he dragged a mop soaked with blood across the ground, cleaning up the bloody aftermath.
Beside him, Stanley quickly pressed his finger to his lips and whispered nervously:
"Keep it down!
They're not far from here.
If they hear you, do you still want to live?"
After fleeing from Winterhold, Barton and Stanley had heard that Whitespire's City Lord's Guard was recruiting.
Seeing a chance for a fresh start, they decided to join.
Their levels weren't high enough to pass the official selection, but using some of the capital they had saved up in Winterhold, they managed to bribe their way in—becoming provisional members.
At first, they were thrilled.
Even as provisional members, they believed that with hard work and diligence, they could eventually become full members of the Lord's Manor Guard.
However, once they truly entered the City Lord's Guard, they realized the grim reality.
Provisional members were nothing more than janitors, responsible for the dirtiest, most degrading tasks.
It wasn't at all the glamorous opportunity they had been led to believe.
Worse yet, the City Lord's Guard itself was monstrously dark and brutal.
Drinking, gambling, whoring, and looting—they engaged in every vile act imaginable.
If they saw a woman they fancied in the city, they would simply abduct her, regardless of whether she consented or not.
Today, Barton and Stanley were cleaning up after such atrocities.
The place was soaked in blood.
The young woman who had once been beautiful and lively was now lying broken and lifeless on the ground, having been brutally assaulted to death.
The City Lord's Guard, an organization meant to protect the people, had become worse than a gang of thugs—pure monsters in human skin.
"Stanley, Captain..." Barton whispered urgently.
"Maybe we should get the hell out of this place?"
Although Stanley was no longer officially his captain, Barton still looked up to him for guidance.
Given everything they had seen, Barton firmly believed that the City Lord's Guard was doomed.
With so much evil accumulated, divine retribution was only a matter of time.
Staying here was far too dangerous.
"You think we can just leave this den of thieves?"
Stanley whispered back.
"I want to leave too.
But we can't act rashly—we need a solid plan first."
He had learned enough about the City Lord's Guard to know—
In Whitespire, both the open and hidden powers were tightly controlled by them.
If they attempted a sudden escape, they would be branded as traitors.
And traitors were not just killed—they were mutilated and tortured until there was nothing left.
So they absolutely could not flee without careful preparation.
Barton nodded obediently, and together, the two quickly finished cleaning up the area before preparing to move on to the next task assigned by the City Lord's Guard.
But just then—
A familiar figure appeared before them.