The Deceitful One
128 Killer's Blood
Bryan couldn't stop his hand from trembling as he continued to read the contents of the brown-colored scroll.
"Theft Path Rank 1 Meditation Technique…" Bryan muttered under his breath as he continued to read the entire process of the meditation technique written down on the scroll.
It was about 90% similar to the meditation technique written in the Book of Medici. The only place where it fell short was the quality. The meditation technique in the scroll was far inferior compared to the one that Bryan had.
Bryan continued to read the scroll. In the middle, there was another title, "Theft Path Rank 1 Potion Recipe."
This recipe, however, was precisely the same as the one Bryan had. He closed the scroll and then kept it inside his coat pocket.
He had a pensive look on his face as he thought, 'This scroll appearing here is simply too good to be a coincidence…
Why was Anthony carrying it with him?
Do the people behind him, perhaps, know of my true identity?
Or am I just overthinking it?'
The moment Bryan thought till here, his heart started to beat faster as beads of sweat dropped from his forehead.
'No, it can't be! I haven't told my identity to anyone. Not even my teacher!' Bryan thought in apprehension.
'But my mother… did someone know that she was a descendant of Medici?' The more Bryan thought about it the more nervous he became. And the splitting headache that he was having didn't alleviate the problem one bit.
Rubbing his temple with his one functioning right arm, he shook his head as he mumbled, "I need to get out of this place first. I can think about it later."
Bryan took one last look at Anthony's corpse and walked out of the house. His body was so bruised and battered that he found it difficult to even walk.
But he had to get away from this place as quickly as possible. Approaching the boundary of the villa, with great difficulty he climbed the wall and jumped down to the other side.
He then started to jog toward the slum area from where Hailey had shot the signal flare from. By this time, reinforcements would have already arrived there. All he had to do was get there in one piece.
The more Bryan ran, the more his metabolism was stimulated. This in turn caused the poison in his left shoulder, which had earlier stopped spreading, to expand outward once again.
Bryan's breathing became labored as his vision turned blurry. As he ran through the narrow and secluded alleyway, he propped himself against the wall from time to time to catch his breath.
About five minutes later, he couldn't take it anymore. Despite forcing himself to take another step forward, his body simply refused to listen.
His vision gradually darkened as he began to fall face-first to the ground, 'Fuck… I can't…'
But right as he was about to hit the ground, he felt a firm grip on his shoulder that helped him stand back up. The last thing Bryan saw before he passed out was Henry's distraught face.
Henry and Emma were the first to arrive at the location from where Hailey had shot the signal flare from. After Hailey briefed them on what had transpired, the duo immediately left for the direction Hailey had seen Bryan run towards.
It wasn't that difficult for the duo to track Bryan's tracks. All they had to do was look for the bullet shells that Bryan's pistol had discarded along the way.
During his chase, Bryan had been constantly shooting at the fleeing Anthony. The bullet cases, hence, had become the perfect items to track Bryan.
Henry carefully checked Bryan's pulse. After ensuring his breathing was fine, he checked Bryan's large wound on his left shoulder.
"He's been poisoned!" Henry stated after carefully scrutinizing the wound.
Emma replied worriedly, "Let's quickly take him to Livia."
Henry nodded. He then put Bryan over his shoulders and left for the Church of Wisdom on North Kingston Avenue.
…
Meanwhile, inside the two-storied villa of the house where the battle had just taken place, Alfredo had just arrived after hearing from one of his messengers that a fight had taken place there.
Panic-stricken, Alfredo entered the house as he prayed in his heart, 'Anthony, please be safe!'
Upon entering, he saw the state the house was in and knew instantly that a very gruesome battle had taken place. As he walked toward the center of the living room, three corpses came into his view.
"No no, please! No!" Looking at the corpse in the middle that had an arm missing as well as a head that was completely battered out of shape, his heart clenched tightly.
Even without the head, Alfredo recognized the body. It was his grandson, Anthony! He crouched down in front of his grandson's corpse as tears streamed down his face uncontrollably.
He picked up the corpse and placed it on his lap as he continued to howl in pain and anguish.
"My dear child…" Alfredo could not come up with words to speak as he cried aloud for a long time.
The sadness in his heart soon turned to fury as he spat through gritted teeth, "Whoever did this to you…. I'll fucking kill them!"
He gently placed Anthony's corpse on the ground as he wiped his tears. He got up to his feet and looked around the house to find any clues that would help him identify his grandson's murderer.
A few minutes later, he found about half a dozen throwing knives and a pistol that had a silver metallic barrel and a grip whose outer casing was made of wood.
Alfredo instantly recognized these weapons as Anthony had mentioned to him about the person who had bought them at a secret gathering more than a month back.
"So it was you in the end," Alfredo muttered coldly as he carefully kept the weapons with him. He then meticulously looked around the first floor and after a few minutes, he was finally able to differentiate the killer's blood.
He crouched down on the ground and stored Bryan's blood in a vial and kept it inside his pocket as he spoke with a murderous glare, "You're a dead man!"
Alfredo then walked to Anthony's corpse and gently picked it up. He had to leave the house before the Silver Owls arrived. He didn't even spare a glance at the other corpses as he immediately left the house, his heart heavy.
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