The Wild Dog Gang’s base was a massive, dilapidated, abandoned Woolen Mill.
It was said that the original owner of the mill had once been a wealthy merchant, rich beyond measure, only to be executed for “tax evasion” and “hoarding goods.”
The greedy Nobles divided his assets, but none inherited his connections or business networks.
Under the Nobles’ poor management, the mills he left behind all shut down, becoming shelters for vagrants, Orphans, and society’s outcasts.
“Sparrow” Finn Hawk led Allen and the others through the mill’s main gate.
As the rusty hinges creaked, countless wary, hostile, even numbed gazes—almost tangible—nailed themselves onto Allen!
Allen observed his surroundings carefully.
Inside, the mill was empty and chaotic. In the corners, crude shacks made of broken wooden boards, tattered canvas, and scavenged blankets were set up. Discarded tools and trash littered the ground.
Shadows moved—mostly half-grown kids and gaunt adults.
There were sniffling, timid Orphans; the old, weak, and sickly with missing limbs and cloudy eyes; even a few pale, thin girls huddled tightly together—they were sisters or relatives of some members.
Their clothes were tattered and dirt-stained, faces pale from long-term malnutrition and hardened by a life of struggle and distrust.
This was the Wild Dog Gang—a pack of scum scraping for survival in the mud.
A freckled boy, apparently their makeshift leader, held a rusted dagger clumsily, attempting some flashy moves to appear fierce.
But to a professional eye, the act was full of holes, nothing more than a scare tactic for the honest.
A rabble, utterly fragile.
Allen concluded in his heart.
When it came to close-quarters weapons, Marianne by his side was the true Reaper.
Her weapon only appeared once—just before the enemy breathed their last.
Marianne also noticed the freckled boy. Her crimson eyes narrowed slightly, as if assessing a flock of lambs ready for slaughter, calculating how much time it would take to clean up the mess.
“Yo, ‘Sparrow’!” The freckled boy’s eyes lit up when he saw Allen behind Finn.
He deliberately raised his voice in an exaggerated thug tone, “Bringing this young master here? That’s a real coincidence! Brothers have been wanting to meet our boss for a long time!”
As soon as he finished speaking, the Wild Dogs seemed to get a signal and began their “show of force.”
Some banged iron rods against rusty barrels, making piercing noise; others bared teeth with vicious expressions; a few even deliberately smashed broken bowls on the ground…
These ridiculous threats carried the juvenile bluster typical of lowlife thugs.
Allen remained expressionless, hands behind his back, quietly watching.
But his gaze changed.
It was no longer the usual gentleness or mockery. Instead, it was cold—like a being crawling out from heaps of corpses and blood, indifferent even to life itself.
An invisible, heavy pressure spread out, instantly crushing their pitiful bluff.
The freckled boy was hit first. Terror coursed through him, his whole body chilled, trembling involuntarily.
His hand shook, and with a clatter, the treasured dagger fell to the ground.
The entire mill fell silent except for heavy breathing.
Everyone was stunned by Allen’s terrifying glare.
They had heard of Allen de Laval’s notorious cruelty and thought he might be an easy mark. They never expected a beast risen from hell itself to show up!
“These idiots!” Finn cursed inwardly.
He had barely managed to calm this lord’s temper, yet these fools still dared provoke him?!
God only knew whether this lord was a clone of the Judgement Court or possessed by some other monster!
After a fierce glare from Finn, the freckled boy snapped out of it, cold sweat soaking his back.
He hastily forced out a smile even uglier than crying, “Ah! It’s a misunderstanding! All a misunderstanding, ‘Boss’! We really missed you! The gang’s in big trouble right now, just waiting for you to save us!”
Allen said nothing, only signaling Finn with his eyes.
Finn immediately understood, scrambling to drag over a once luxurious armchair—once the mill owner’s inheritance, Finn’s prized “trophy.”
Allen took the seat without hesitation, crossing one leg over the other, his gaze slowly sweeping over the dozens of Wild Dogs before him.
Marianne stood behind him like a silent statue, her eyes coldly scanning the room.
Anna, clueless but thinking Allen’s posture was cool, copied him, stiffening her face and standing on the other side.
The entire abandoned mill plunged into deadly silence.
Only Allen’s silent, calculating gaze lingered in the air.
The Wild Dog Gang members were chilled to the bone under his scrutiny, not daring to breathe loudly.
A little girl, scared, tugged the freckled boy’s sleeve: “Brother… I’m so scared…”
The freckled boy forced down his own fear and tried to comfort her with a trembling voice: “Don’t be afraid… Brother’s here…”
Allen’s observation soon came to an end.
This was a group of “consumables” struggling at the very bottom of society, without any legal standing.
They huddled together for warmth, just to survive.
They only did petty theft, extortion, and racketeering—too insignificant even to collect the lowest-level protection fees on the streets.
Even if Allen disbanded the Wild Dog Gang, new gangs like “Big Dog Gang” or “Flash Dog Gang” would spring up.
The rotten feudal system constantly churned out desperate “stray dogs.” These bottom-tier gangs were like wild grass, cut down only to regrow.
Without addressing the root cause, the plight of the lower classes would never change!
To Allen, these stray dogs still had value.
He was a villain—how could a villain have no forces of his own?
He had become a Feudal Lord with private soldiers, but at least he could aim to be the Emperor of the Underworld.
Today’s meeting was both an asset evaluation and an interview.
If they could prove they were not a pure liability, Allen wouldn’t mind giving them a lifeline—a road to hell, but a lifeline nonetheless.
After a long pause, Allen finally spoke in a calm, emotionless voice: “Who here has killed someone?”
The Wild Dogs exchanged glances and all shook their heads.
Finn quickly explained, “Boss, there are rules in the underworld. Once a gang stains itself with blood, its nature changes. Small fry like us don’t last long.”
“Rules in the underworld?” Allen’s eyes flashed coldly with murderous intent. “Who made those rules?”
Finn hesitated, then whispered, “It’s… the Thieves’ Guild.”
Allen narrowed his eyes, searching his memories for information on the Thieves’ Guild.
In the game, the Thieves’ Guild indeed existed.
It was like the Adventurers’ Guild in the original story. During academy breaks, players could take on quests from the Thieves’ Guild to earn extra money.
Because these quests paid quickly, most players even had a fondness for it.
But in the real world, the Thieves’ Guild was a massive force in the underworld, controlling illicit contracts, fencing operations, and various grey industries.
They exploited the bottom, forced begging, colluded with corrupt guards, trafficked people—a deeper cancer than the Wild Dog Gang, the object of fear and hatred among the oppressed.
Where there is light, there is shadow. The Thieves’ Guild had changed faces countless times over a thousand years, but it always existed and always would, unless someone completely smashed the old world!
A bold plan formed in Allen’s mind.
The shadows did not only breed evil—they could also nurture the seeds of revolution!
He wanted to build a new, subversive organization to replace these so-called necessary evils.
The Thieves’ Guild would be his first target.
Among the Guild’s members, nine out of ten deserved execution, though a few might slip through the cracks!
Allen didn’t mind wiping out these hopeless scum.
Moreover, with the Cult lurking behind them, their crimes were even more unforgivable!
The Wild Dog Gang would be Allen’s testing ground.
He wanted to see what kind of fruitful results could come from these most oppressed people, who resisted the old world in all the wrong ways.
Allen looked at Marianne, a fanatical, mad light flickering in his eyes: “Marianne, do you remember the question I asked you?”
Marianne immediately caught his meaning: “You mean the one about ‘What would a world without Nobles be like?’?”
Allen’s lips curled into a villain’s smile: “Exactly. Revolutions have no scripts, and there will never be a perfect moment to be ready. Historical turning points often begin with an Accidental Encounter between Subjects—just like now.”
He stood up, his aura rising sharply like a sword drawn from its sheath: “Marianne, I’m about to suddenly embark on a Hell Journey. Are you ready?”
“On the road to hell, I’ll accompany you.” Marianne’s voice was both gentle and resolute.
“Good.” Allen nodded with satisfaction. His voice suddenly turned cold, ringing clearly throughout the mill. “Marianne, watch every single one of them. Anyone who tries to run—” He paused, voice dark as death, “kill them.”
Allen did not lower his voice. He deliberately spoke so Finn, the true leader of the Wild Dog Gang, could hear.
Finn felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on him, shivering all over.
What exactly did Young Master Laval want to do?!
“A world without Nobles”? Revolution? Accidental Encounter between Subjects?
What did it all mean?!
He didn’t understand a word!
Those words burned his brain like a red-hot iron!
Allen ignored Finn’s shock, his gaze sweeping over the terrified Wild Dogs: “You haven’t killed anyone. That’s good. If your hands are stained with blood… I’m sorry, I won’t welcome any criminals.”
He shifted tone, dripping with condescending arrogance: “Be grateful. You scum, rats, trash. This young master is willing to give you a lifeline.”
The Wild Dogs’ eyes flickered with the faintest hope—but Allen’s next words plunged them into an icy abyss:
“However, this lifeline I give you is actually a dead end!”
“This road is full of thorns. Many of you may die! But I promise—” Allen’s voice rose sharply, full of infectious zeal, “you will never die like the lowly, unnoticed mud rats you are now!”
“You will not die for yourselves! You will die with dignity—for those like you who suffer, the homeless, the desperate, those struggling to survive!”
“You will no longer be rats in the sewers! I can give you the chance to survive openly, under the sun!”
“I don’t care how many misdeeds you committed in the past! As long as you’re willing to listen to me and follow the rules I set, I will give you a chance to start over!”
Allen spread his arms wide, preaching, his voice filled with fervent fanaticism:
“Tell me! Would you rather be lambs butchered for a hundred years, or lions roaring for a single day?!”
“Come! Make your choice!”