Chapter 154: Gravel Club

If Lan Qingyou had not appeared, if she had not killed him, he would still be the overlord of the Abandoned City. He would still be the slave owner who commanded an army of tens of thousands.

Now look at the result. Just because of Lan Qingyou's appearance.

Because of Lan Qingyou's ruthless assault without so much as a word of warning, he had lost absolutely everything.

His city was gone, the Crystal Palace was destroyed, and the slaves he had spent months painstakingly accumulating were all lost.

Without these things, what difference was there between Sherlock and an ordinary person?

Furthermore, because of everything he had done before, it was impossible for him to continue surviving in this district.

After all, his reputation was completely ruined.

He did not even need to think to know how those people, freed from their Slave Contracts because of his single death, would slander him in the regional channel, or even the world channel.

In his eyes, all of this was Lan Qingyou's fault.

But so what?

To murder and seize treasures had been the way of the world since ancient times. Lan Qingyou felt no remorse, nor even the slightest bit of embarrassment.

Who wouldn't do whatever it takes to survive?

'Since I obtained Little Spoon, keeping the news of Little Spoon sealed away was obviously the utmost priority,' he reasoned.

Anyone who had ever read a bit of fantasy fiction would know exactly what to do.

It was just that Lan Qingyou had not expected Sherlock to actually be capable of resurrecting.

"If that little lab rat had not found a resurrection item for me earlier, I really would have been killed by you,"

Sherlock sneered.

But the moment he thought of that item, Sherlock could not help but feel a sharp pang of heartache.

That item was a single-use consumable, and now it had been wasted in such a meaningless situation.

'Forget it,' he thought. 'Since I cannot stay here any longer, I will just move to another place.'

Starting from scratch, wandering from place to place—did these things even matter to him?

Thinking of this, Sherlock looked down at his feet.

'Very good,' he noted. 'Although my clothes have been slashed to rags, at least my shoes are still intact.'

Those lowly scum. When he got the chance in the future, he would definitely settle this score with them.

Gritting his teeth, Sherlock squatted down and took off his right shoe. From inside the footwear, he pulled out an object the size of a shoe sole that resembled a miniature calculator.

Upon closer inspection, the gadget looked more like a tiny mobile phone, no larger than half a palm.

"Who is it?"

When Sherlock pressed the numbered buttons and connected the call, a hoarse voice came from the other end of the line. The previously bright moonlight was suddenly obscured by dark clouds, making the mass grave appear eerie and terrifying.

"Steve, it is me, Sherlock."

As soon as the call went through, Sherlock immediately stated his identity.

"So it is you. Why are you calling me? Do you not know that staying up late is bad for the body?"

"I apologize, but I have failed."

"Hmm?"

"Today, the Tower Witch suddenly appeared in my castle. Without a single word, she relentlessly bombarded me, and in the end, I died."

"Idiot! Did the previous club meeting not tell you to keep a low profile?"

A furious roar echoed from the other end of the phone.

Even the hoarseness from earlier became much less apparent.

"I am sorry. I did not expect the Tower Witch to interfere in my affairs. I do not even know how she managed to appear inside my castle."

Sherlock apologized with a bitter smile.

"We only brought you in because we are of the same race, and you actually managed to screw everything up?"

"What could I possibly do?! That Witch was flying in the sky! She was like a B-2 bomber, constantly dropping exploding glass bottles! Can you imagine the scene of a sky filled with bombs raining down on you?!"

Being harshly reprimanded by Steve ignited Sherlock's own temper.

'Damn it,' he raged internally. 'I am a city lord, for crying out loud! You are just a pathetic phone maker, and you dare to bark at me?!'

'What club? What recruitment? It is all just for damned profit! Do you really think I do not know what kind of scum you people are?'

With his anger flaring, Sherlock simply cursed back at the man on the phone.

Surprisingly enough, the effect was outstanding.

Steve immediately fell silent.

After hesitating for a long moment, Steve's voice finally emanated from the mobile phone again.

"...What do you plan to do next?"

"I cannot stay in District 666 anymore. I need to go somewhere else to stage a comeback. When the time is right, I will find a way to fight my way back."

"Since there is a flying Witch in District 666, forget about returning there for now. I heard she has already joined Tarot Manor."

"What!"

Hearing the name Tarot Manor, Sherlock was violently startled.

As a member of the club, he naturally knew exactly what kind of organization Tarot Manor was.

It was a dangerous faction that operated under the guise of an academic society while secretly gathering talents from various fields across the world.

To think that Lan Qingyou, the world's number one Witch, had actually joined their ranks. Did that not mean the threat level of Tarot Manor to them had just increased exponentially?

"Is that true?"

Sherlock asked with great difficulty.

"It is true. The club members have verified the information through multiple sources. Several other people we initially had our eyes on have also joined them. Rumor has it that the people from Tarot Manor have already made contact with Ingrid, and they are currently reaching out to Riesling."

Sherlock asked with great difficulty.

"It is true. The club members have verified the information through multiple sources. Several other people we initially had our eyes on have also joined them. Rumor has it that the people from Tarot Manor have already made contact with Ingrid, and they are currently reaching out to Riesling."

"...Ingrid and Riesling. Were those two not the ones the club already had its sights on?"

Sherlock furrowed his brows once more.

"Yes, but we do not have the same level of convenience as they do."

Thinking about how someone in Tarot Manor could traverse the barriers between districts, Sherlock opened his mouth but ultimately said nothing more.

After all, a talent skill that allowed someone to cross regional barriers was truly far too convenient.

First, he had lost his territory. Then, Lan Qingyou joined Tarot Manor. And now, top-tier talents like Ingrid and Riesling were being contacted by them. Why was there not a single piece of good news today?

If the people the club had its eyes on were absorbed by Tarot Manor one by one, their own organization would likely face increasingly difficult times ahead.

It seemed he had indeed been too high-profile, which led to him being targeted by the people of Tarot Manor.

Regardless of what happened to the club—it was just a temporary shelter anyway—he ultimately had to protect his own life.

"Do you understand the club's awkward predicament now?"

Seeing that Sherlock remained silent, Steve spoke up from the other end.

"Alright, I admit that I was too high-profile before. I will be much more cautious and prudent in the future."

Now needing someone else's help, Sherlock lowered his head.

"As long as you know. I have already contacted the teleporter on my end. Just wait where you are for two minutes."

With that, Steve hung up the phone without even waiting for Sherlock to reply.

"Damn bastard."

Sherlock lowered the phone with a gloomy expression and shoved it back into his shoe to serve as an insole once more.

Just as he stowed the phone, the dark clouds in the sky happened to disperse, and the bright moonlight washed over the earth once again.

It fell perfectly upon his mobile phone.

On the back of the device was a trapezoidal emblem, surrounded on the outside by a wide-open mouth. Inside the trapezoid, a line of text was written in a language that was basically extinct on Blue Star: 'Gravel Club'.

That was to say—the Gravel Club.