Chapter 39: The Wild Dog Gang

“Sparrow” was so scared his heart nearly stopped!

But the next second, he saw Allen and Marianne say something to each other, then the three of them casually turned into a filthy, foul-smelling alley nearby.

Marianne’s sharp gaze—it must have been just his imagination.

“Damn it!”

“Sparrow” anxiously scratched at his head.

Should he follow? It could be a trap!

If he didn’t follow, the gang brothers really had no chance of survival!

Even if waiting inside the alley were the Church’s Replicant Monsters, he’d have to grit his teeth and charge in!

“Sparrow” clenched his teeth and, like a true rat, pressed himself against the wall and silently slipped into the dark alley.

The alleys of the Lower City always reeked of damp mildew and the sour stench of rotting garbage.

Moss and grime crawled up the mottled walls on both sides, and the uneven cobblestone road was filled with murky sewage, where rats occasionally darted by in a blur.

Sunlight was sliced into narrow strips by the crooked, dilapidated houses on both sides, barely illuminating small patches while most places were shrouded in oppressive shadows.

In a way, such alleys truly represented the face of the Lower City—

A place that was far from glamorous, overwhelmingly suffocating: a slum.

“Is there really a candy shop here?” Anna wrinkled her nose, looking around suspiciously.

“Of course not,” Allen answered crisply.

“Eh—?!” Anna’s tone dragged in disappointment, her mood instantly sinking.

Uh-oh, my conscience’s aching a bit!

I really can’t stand seeing little animals upset!

“Sorry!” Allen smiled, trying to soothe her. “I’ll buy you some when we get back. But right now, we have a little matter to deal with.”

“Hmm?” Anna blinked her big eyes. “Are you talking about that person who’s been following us?”

Marianne and Allen were both stunned and looked at Anna in surprise.

“Hehe,” Anna smiled smugly, pointing to her nose. “I smell a weird scent on him!”

Allen: “……”

Marianne: “……”

No way, is your nose like a dog’s?! Such a keen sense of smell?!

You detected the Prince’s Spy’s scent before, and now you’ve sniffed out a stalker? Could this be your Special Skill?!

“What kind of smell did you pick up?” Allen asked curiously.

Anna tilted her head, giving a pure and innocent smile that looked a bit eerie in the current situation. “Hmm… probably… the Scent of Heresy.”

Allen and Marianne exchanged a glance, both seeing seriousness reflected in each other’s eyes.

“Master, all I have is this.” Marianne quietly pulled a pair of Extraction Pliers shining coldly from a tool pouch under her skirt.

Allen touched his waist. “I brought a Dagger. But… that should be enough for just a little rat.”

A villainous smirk with a hint of mockery and danger curled at the corner of his mouth.

“I have a feeling something’s about to happen that will make this young master quite pleased!”

At that moment, “Sparrow” was holding his breath, cautiously sneaking deeper into the alley.

Suddenly, the corner ahead lost sight of Allen and the others.

His heart tightened, and he quickened his pace to catch up.

Just as he turned the corner—

A flash of cold light! The icy touch of metal instantly pressed against his neck!

“What’s your business here?”

Allen’s cheerful voice sounded in his ear.

“Sparrow” froze all over, his peripheral vision catching Marianne standing beside him, idly playing with a sinister-looking pair of pliers, her gaze as cold as if staring at a corpse.

“Young Master…” Sparrow immediately switched to survival mode, trembling, curling into a ball, his face full of humility and fear. “I… I’m just passing through… I didn’t mean to do anything… really! I swear!”

“Cut it out, what are you playing dumb for in front of me?”

Allen sneered. The blade of his Dagger lightly pressed on “Sparrow”’s neck, the cold touch making him shudder uncontrollably.

“Wait, why do you look kind of familiar?”

Allen stepped closer, carefully studying “Sparrow”’s face, which was dirtied up as a disguise.

Despite the deliberate grime, Allen still remembered that thin face and those darting eyes.

“Sparrow? So it’s you, kid.” Allen called out his nickname with a hint of amusement. “Not long ago, we were drinking cheap ale together at the tavern, listening to your tall tales. It’s great to see an old friend again.”

Allen laughed and patted “Sparrow” on the shoulder, but there was no warmth in his laughter—only cold scrutiny.

The weather in June had started to turn stuffy, but in this damp, dark alley, “Sparrow” felt as if he’d just been doused with a bucket of ice water—his whole body chilled.

“So,” Allen mused like pondering how to deal with a pesky insect, “what do you want to say to me? Catch up… or threaten me?”

“Sparrow” looked at Allen’s smiling face and steeled himself, going all out.

“Young Master Laval! Are you really going to turn over a new leaf?”

“Of course.”

“If you can reform, then what about us?!” Sparrow’s voice trembled with despair and suppressed anger.

“Our gang brothers are only together because of you! You used to tacitly allow us to operate under your banner, so we could survive in the city’s sewers! And now you’re brushing off your hands to be a good person, to whitewash yourself and get out, kicking us aside? You want us to die?!”

The smile on Allen’s face grew wider, even cruelly delighted. “Yeah, why don’t you just die?”

“Huh?”

“Sparrow” was completely dumbfounded!

At the market earlier, Allen had been tearfully repentant, like a saint who’d found the right path.

But now, he was saying the coldest and most merciless words with such ease!

This massive contrast was like a heavy hammer smashing Sparrow’s heart, filling him with absurdity and bone-chilling coldness.

“Surprised, aren’t you?” Allen sneered mockingly. “I won’t bother to investigate all the extortion and petty theft you did under my name. But now, I’m going to remake myself, build a brand-new glorious image. All the stains you left behind look especially unsightly and redundant.”

He leaned close to Sparrow’s ear, voice low and dangerous: “I’m like a piece of freshly cleaned white cloth now. But as long as you’re still alive and running around out there, that cloth will always be stained with indelible dirt. That won’t do. I’m a noble, do you understand what that means?”

“Sparrow” understood perfectly! The old Young Master Laval was a jerk, but he at least tolerated them “tools.”

But now, this ‘reformed’ Allen was colder and more ruthless than the drunk he’d been before! Nobles were nobles! They never cared about the lives of those beneath them! They only cared about keeping their feathers clean!

Sparrow’s heart turned utterly cold. A wave of profound sorrow and anger surged inside him.

He’d served this young master for so long, flattered him, been his lackey, done bad things together……

Though he knew they’d never be friends, at least… at least… in Allen’s eyes, he was truly just a filthy bug that could be crushed anytime!

“You… you really have changed…” Sparrow’s voice was dry and hoarse, filled with despair and self-mockery. In the end, all his struggles and hopes were just a joke.

Allen watched Sparrow’s lost, drained expression and felt the time was right.

He sheathed his Dagger, stepped back, and put on that trademark cynical villainous smile again:

“Tsk, for old times’ sake, since you flattered me well enough to put me in a good mood, I’ll give you a chance to live.” Allen’s tone was like a condescending charity. “‘Sparrow’ is your nickname, right? You’ve followed me so long, but I still don’t know your real name. And your stinking bottom-tier gang… hmm, what’s it called again?”

“Sparrow” suddenly raised his head, staring at Allen in disbelief.

On that unfamiliar, villainous confident face, Allen’s gaze was serious—not joking.

“Finn Hawk.” he answered instinctively, “Our gang’s called the ‘Wild Dog Gang’… You… are our Master in name.”

“Wild Dog Gang?” Allen raised an eyebrow.

That name… lowly and humble, yet very fitting. Wild dogs often travel in packs, huddling together for warmth, hunting collectively, and are a huge threat to other animals and even solitary humans.

Allen couldn’t help but chuckle. War Hounds, Wild Dog Gang, and now a canine-type nun—why was he always dealing with dogs in this reincarnation?

“Fine, Finn Hawk.” Allen nodded, his tone laced with an unmistakable command. “Lead the way for this young master. As your so-called Master, I want to see what kind of ‘surprises’ the Wild Dog Gang—acting under my banner and running amok—can really offer me.”