Chapter Fifty-Four: Acquiring the Prism Once More

Late at night, Adolf, the leader of the Violet Syndicate, was locked in combat with Ebbert, the chief of Silverwood Star. Their strengths were evenly matched, yet Adolf held one advantage—his youth compared to Ebbert’s advanced age.

Youth endowed Adolf with greater stamina and swifter recovery, allowing him to maintain his vigor longer. Ebbert, though also a fighter and recipient of basic genetic enhancements, was now old; at the battle’s outset, he could hold his own, even gaining the upper hand. But as the night wore on, the scales gradually tipped, and his initial advantage was slowly eroded, revealing his decline with the passage of time.

Suddenly, their figures crossed in a blur; Ebbert staggered back two steps, a bloody gash marking his arm. Yet he was not dismayed—instead, he smiled, and a willow-leaf blade appeared in his other hand.

Adolf grunted, clutching his left chest as blood welled between his fingers, staining his white shirt crimson. He eyed Ebbert, narrowing his gaze. “Cunning old fox, you were hiding this move all along!”

In their latest exchange, Adolf had been caught off guard, struck hard in the chest. If he hadn’t placed something there to shield himself and dodged in time, he might have fallen to Ebbert’s blade.

“Did no one ever tell you I was trained in swordplay?” Ebbert seized the moment to catch his breath, then barked, “Adolf, wounded as you are, you cannot defeat me!”

Even before his words faded, he lunged, swinging his blade.

Adolf sneered, lifting his right leg and kicking hard at Ebbert’s abdomen. The attack was swift, fierce, and abrupt, far faster than anything he had displayed earlier. The air burst around them, a torrent unleashed.

Ebbert’s expression shifted; he twisted aside, narrowly avoiding the blow. Yet the attack still grazed him, and in an instant, his knife-wielding hand, along with the willow-leaf blade, was cleaved apart.

“What?!” Pain radiated from the severed limb, but Ebbert had no time to react, not a moment to gasp for breath.

Two antennae extended from Adolf’s forehead as he unleashed his full power, raining blows upon Ebbert’s vital points. Though not as fast, precise, or vicious as before, the relentless onslaught forced Ebbert back, weaker under the pressure.

He retreated thirty meters, finding himself with nowhere left to go.

Adolf seized the opportunity, closing in and delivering a fierce hook.

Bang—

Ebbert was hurled through a wall, landing hard on the floor.

He coughed violently, struggling to rise and wiping away blood from his lips. “You truly have surpassed me…”

Adolf ignored him, inspecting his own wound.

Ebbert, battle-hardened to the end, had not given up. In that last instant, he’d used his hand as a blade, stabbing Adolf in the chest. If not for the sturdy rib intercepting the blow, Adolf’s lung might have been pierced.

Now, though his rib was fractured and blood pooled in his lung, pain ravaging his chest, Adolf could still endure.

Bearing the agony, Adolf stepped toward the fallen Ebbert, approaching slowly until he stood over him. He pressed his foot onto Ebbert’s chest, looking down at him, unable to contain his overwhelming joy. “Finally, finally, finally the day has come! You old dog…”

But before Adolf could enumerate the grievances and pass his final judgment, a gentle tap came to his shoulder from behind, and a strange male voice spoke: “What day have you been waiting for?”

What—who was it?

Adolf did not turn. Instinctively, he stomped hard on Ebbert and used the momentum to roll away, covering dozens of meters in a flash.

He had practiced this maneuver countless times, confident that none could match his speed in such a moment.

Yet he had miscalculated. A frog at the bottom of a well cannot fathom the vastness of the sky above.

“Are you performing acrobatics, clown?” Unhurried, Liu Tian followed, watching the blood-soaked blond man carrying his bag. “Such trifling antics do not amuse me.”

“Perhaps if you flex your muscles, it might be more entertaining…”

What?

Adolf raised his head. A shadow loomed over him. It was a man whose face seemed familiar—he had seen his photo before. Liu Tian, disciple of Heaven’s Path! Junior brother to Bai Ciman!

In this city, Liu Tian was one of the few people Adolf dared not provoke.

He had already tested the waters and knew that Heaven’s Path never involved himself in petty gang disputes. Adolf kept his men away from their territory.

His spies had reported that Liu Tian was away with his father, and Heaven’s Path was not at home.

But now, seeing Liu Tian just returned from the Crimson Cloud Empire, perhaps he had stumbled upon this scene by chance?

Adolf’s mind raced. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees. “Spare me, elder! I am the sole leader of the Violet Syndicate in this city, commanding nearly ten thousand men. I can offer nearly a million in tribute each year—I am of use, I am valuable!”

He did not know what wind or rain had brought this formidable figure here, but he was certain it was not Ebbert’s doing. If Ebbert had such connections, Adolf would have been dead long ago.

Thus, showing his usefulness was the best way to plead for his life. He cared nothing for his injuries, banging his forehead against the blood-stained floor in desperate supplication.

A second. Three seconds. Ten seconds!

Liu Tian remained silent, letting Adolf kowtow for nearly a minute before finally smiling. “Interesting fellow. Enough. Bring me the object you placed at your chest—let me see it.”

Relief flooded Adolf’s heart.

His life was spared!

He suddenly understood what had drawn Liu Tian here.

It was the item he had painstakingly acquired, intended to sell to Blue Dream Corporation for the next stage of genetic enhancement.

But his genes had not been stable enough to proceed with the enhancement.

Once stabilized, with war imminent, he discovered the item could serve as an impenetrable shield for his heart, so he kept it.

Now, to save his life, he had no choice but to hand it over.

Without hesitation or suspicious movements, Adolf slowly and resolutely withdrew the prismatic object from his chest, holding it respectfully above his head with both hands.

“So it is this thing—no wonder the sound was so familiar,” Liu Tian said, taking the prism. As he touched it, a familiar warmth surged through him. He did not need to check the interface to know his source points had increased.

If not for the prying eyes around, and if it were the right moment to fuse the prisms, Liu Tian would have liked to try combining all three to see what strange transformation might occur.

“Where did you get this?” Liu Tian asked.

Why had an object so feverishly sought by countless families in the Crimson Cloud Empire surfaced in the hands of these minor syndicate leaders, when even the Tulip Kingdom—closer to the New Continent—rarely saw such things?

Long ago, Liu Tian had wondered: if a prism could be obtained in a simple transaction between two gangs, might there be more hidden among their higher ranks?

The probability was high.

Previously, Liu Tian lacked the power to single-handedly challenge both gangs, and his parents posed an obstacle to his ambitions.

This time, having sent his parents away to the Crimson Cloud Empire with his sister, Liu Tian’s first plan upon returning was to interrogate the gang leaders about the whereabouts of more prisms.

He had not expected to return at such a fortuitous moment, hearing the familiar sound of metal striking prism as the two fought to the death.

Perhaps it was the unique properties of the prism; whenever it collided with any object, it produced a distinctive sound, one Liu Tian had never heard anywhere else.

Thus, even separated by hundreds of meters, Liu Tian could easily discern that the object he sought was carried by this man.

Otherwise, he would hardly bother to sweep up roadside trash.

“This was found exploring ancient ruins in the New Continent. There were originally two; I lost one, so only this remains,” Adolf replied truthfully, spitting blood as his injuries, no longer suppressed by adrenaline, began to overwhelm him.

“Ruins of the New Continent? Hmph!” Liu Tian bent over the dying Adolf, and with a quick thrust of his right foot to Adolf’s chest, forced the pooled blood from his lungs, helping him spit it out. “Go to the hospital soon—you should be fine. In the future, pay close attention to artifacts of the Lost Empire, for I will come to inspect them from time to time.”

“Your life will be tied to these objects. Do well, and there will be reward; do poorly, and you will be of no use…”