Quevedo, anticipating this, retorted: "Although Mr. Rosell invented another type of oil lamp, his manuscript also contains a design drawing for another oil lamp, which was manufactured based on this model."
Erich paused, observing Quevedo's confident expression. Clearly, Quevedo already knew, then he said, "I see. Rosell really is your idol."
Quevedo proudly declared, "I would say that Mr. Rosell is my idol, even though the word 'idol' is a bit absurd, but Mr. Rosell invented it."
Erich clearly admired Rosell… Disinterested in everything, he said: "Now that we have finished our business, let us part. It is getting late."
Karl and Furen nodded, while Quevedo struck an exaggerated theatrical pose, repeating: "Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye a thousand times. Romeo and Juliet is a truly thrilling play, and Mr. Roselle is a great writer."
Furen was completely stunned, witnessing Quevedo's transformation into a veritable Roselle fanatic, lost in his own admiration. After greeting Karl and Erich, he casually waved twice to Quevedo and decided to walk home.
Stepping out onto the illuminated street, Furen observed Karl waiting for his carriage in front of the tavern, Erich signaling the driver to stop, and Quevedo, still lost in self-admiration. A smile spread across his face. What a beautiful day!
Although Trier is currently the most developed city, it's clear that oil lamps aren't ubiquitous. Only the wealthier streets have a few. The street where Furen lives has only two or three scattered oil lamps, barely enough to prevent it from being completely dark.
Now, Furen is plunged into darkness, illuminated only by the faint red glow of the purple moon.
Furen continued on his way and inexplicably turned into a dark, deserted street. He stopped, stretched his head, and said to someone he couldn't identify, "You've been following me for so long, it's time to reveal yourself. I've already given you your chance."
The dark street remained silent, as if mocking Furen's futile efforts.
Furen let out a mocking sneer, but before he could speak, a white light, a reflection of the purple moonlight, appeared before him. Furen attempted a sliding tackle, but couldn't completely dodge it.
With a sharp crack, Furen half-collapsed to the ground, his hands clutching his chest, his face contorted in pain. He shouted, "You, you, you have no sense of honor! You ambushed an eighteen-year-old kid like me!"
Despite these words, Furen slowly rose, staring intently at the figure in the black suit that had appeared before him. The assassin let out two laughs: "I didn't expect you to have something so hard against your chest, you little brat. What a disaster! You even broke my dagger. Too bad for you."
Furen's left hand fell back to his side, but his right hand continued to slowly rub his chest. "What a shame?"
Furen said. He lunged at the assassin. The latter was about to retaliate, but, seeing Furen's bluff, he did not back down and adopted a fighting stance, saying: "It's a shame you no longer have any way to die without suffering. Er Gouzi, attack."
Furen was about to activate his power, drawing the dagger from his chest and brandishing it forward, but upon hearing the voice, he raised the weapon above his head. A colossal force emanated from the dagger. Despite his desperate efforts to restrain it, even with his bloodied hands, Furen could not grasp it.
The dagger traced a beautiful arc in the air and disappeared into the darkness.
Before Furen could catch his breath, a sword's glare sliced through the air with a piercing hiss. Thankfully, he dragged himself out of the deadly path. The attack caused him pain throughout his body; even the air he breathed seemed to taste of his own blood.
However, the attacker's offensive was not over. The sword pointed at Furen sank deep into the ground, and the attacker delivered a powerful punch, sending Furen flying four or five meters.
This punch instantly reminded Furen of the scene in *Water Margin* where Lu Zhishen strikes Zhen Guanxi (a reference to a Chinese novel). Although the sensation of being hit was indescribable, he inexplicably felt as if different parts of his body were stained with various colors.
Furen clutched his stomach, convulsing on the floor, drool pouring from his mouth, his eyes rolling back. It took him a while to regain his senses, but he still felt nauseous.
Furen gritted his teeth and struggled repeatedly, but still couldn't get up. He thought ferociously, "In my entire life, this is the first time I've been beaten so violently. Just wait, when I'm stronger, I'll kill you both."
When Furen regained his senses, he noticed that the two men who had attacked him were already standing a meter away. This time, he clearly distinguished that one of them was dressed in black and held a sharp dagger, while the other wore armor whose upper body shimmered in the red moonlight and carried a two-handed sword.
The assassin in black said, "Heh heh, you can't escape. Although I'm just an assassin from Sequence 9, my companion, heh heh, is a fighter from Sequence 8. You don't stand a chance of getting away."
Although Furen knew his situation was difficult, the man's words plunged him into despair. Yet Furen retorted, "Why are you stopping me? I have no quarrel with you."
The assassin whirled his dagger like an acrobat, then sneered: "Hey, kid, you know perfectly well, don't you? Why are you pretending not to understand? At first, I was almost certain because of your behavior at the gathering... But your reaction is clearly suspicious. And even if we've got the wrong person, so what? You've chosen an excellent burial site, hahaha."
When Furen learned that they had finally decided to arrest him because of his performance, he felt like slapping himself twice for his incompetence: "Why the hell did I have to act tough? Other people act tough when they whisper in an alley, but why am I the one who gets beaten up?"
The fighter, who had remained silent until then, stepped forward and declared: "Now that we've finished talking, let's cut off his limbs. After all, he's a Beyonder. If we let this easy prey get away, we'll regret it."
The assassin retorted, "This kid can't escape, no need for such a bloodbath," but seeing Furen's expression soften slightly, his tone changed, becoming clearly mocking: "Very well, it's extra insurance; after all, the bounty on this kid's head is so tempting."
He had barely finished speaking when the warrior's great sword whistled through the air, shattering the tranquility of the street.
(The warrior's sword severed Furen's limbs; Furen, powerless, was captured by the Witch's Cult and died a gruesome death after being summoned by spirits.)
The end
Author: Of course, that's impossible (laughs). I'm kidding! (doge)
(End of chapter)