Instigator and Protector of Violence-Chapter 336: [The Protagonists]

On this day, Little Ibia once again raised its walls.

Complete lockdown.

The law enforcement officers from the security bureau who witnessed all this showed no reaction. Only a few undercover agents from the Kingdom Defense Bureau monitoring Little Ibia slipped quietly into the dark alleys.

The curtain of the hidden battlefield had already been lifted.

Joseph received the news while playing chess with the Second Prince at the Sukani Club.

The Second Prince Adrian was not a war fanatic with muscles for brains. On the contrary, most of the time, he was very quiet, enjoying reading and playing chess.

"What’s the matter? Has my elder brother finally lost his patience and decided to act?"

"Yes, Little Ibia is fully armed now."

"Well then, has our Mr. Ethan thought of how to respond?"

"Of course, he..."

Joseph was about to speak, but Adrian raised his hand, signaling Joseph not to continue.

"Don’t tell me. I love the feeling of the unknown. It’s been a long time since I felt this way. Ethan gives me this thrill. He must be a good chess player. Have him join me for a game next time, you play too poorly."

Adrian said as he moved his piece forward.

Joseph lost again.

"It’s because Your Highness is too formidable."

Adrian only shook his head, indicating unclear meaning.

"Go, cooperate with Ethan, handle things beautifully, all the old men above are watching."

"Yes."

Suddenly, Joseph felt a bit apprehensive.

The old men above, does that mean His Majesty the King, or... that one?

"It’s my charming old ancestor, don’t worry, I’ve almost won back his heart."

Perhaps it was to ease Joseph’s mind. As he was about to leave, Adrian spoke again.

Is it really... that King of Kings?

After leaving the Sukani Club, Joseph made no stops, heading straight for the South District.

Since the actors on the opposite side had taken to the stage, their people couldn’t just sit idly by.

The stage was set, and the actors were stepping up in an orderly manner.

Another actor also came to the center of another stage.

Johnny Blackbird.

After just a couple of days of silence, this man, who had just killed the big industrialist Angus, launched the announcement of his next performance.

Once again, he sent new letters to the major newspapers in the Royal Capital.

"Ladies and gentlemen, did you miss me? I wonder if everyone liked the surprise from a couple of days ago. To me, it felt lacking. After all, compared to those who truly deserve it, a guy like Angus is but an accomplice. So, I’ve decided, the next person to die must truly deserve it. To help everyone guess the answer, I’ll give a little hint..."

"He’s a noble, an old noble, with the letter A in his surname."

"Can everyone guess? I’m sure you can, after all, you’re all very smart, aren’t you?"

Arrogant, becoming more and more arrogant.

Last time still counted as a semi-assassination; this time, it’s outright murder announced in advance.

This guy is increasingly disrespecting the law enforcement officers of the Royal Capital and the kingdom’s spies.

Many newspapers voiced condemnation, but of course, there were also those who published the letters for sales and buzz, with a certain guiding undertone.

For example, ’Who do you think will be the next to be punished?’.

Such newspapers using the term ’punished’ were naturally not Royalist Faction papers, as it was clear Johnny Blackbird was targeting the Royalist Faction.

But the Industrial Faction was very cautious in their speech, unwilling to shoulder anything at such a critical moment.

At most, they would secretly support.

The only one daring to make such statements was the "Kingdom Deep Observation Report".

They even dedicated a page for analyzing Johnny Blackbird’s next target, interacting with readers, encouraging them to send their guesses to the editorial office.

In no time, it triggered another wave of frenzy.

With the hidden war stage already set on the other side, another stage was thusly completed.

Johnny Blackbird once again leapt onto the stage, as if loudly shouting to everyone, "Come and see, I’m about to perform."

His target was actually very clear: an old noble, with an A in the surname, and another hidden piece of information—definitely from the Royalist Faction.

Therefore, there were very few targets to choose from.

The Eriman Clan, one of the ten great surnames, or the Evans Clan, with immense influence in the Kingdom and recently swinging to the Eldest Prince’s camp.

Jonas, the eldest son of the Evans Clan, was almost assassinated by Johnny Blackbird once before.

So, is he planning to complete the uncompleted fatal shot this time?

Such speculation further fueled the topic.

Everyone was guessing how these two families would respond to this.

Because, most of the time, these great clans and nobles stood far above the masses’ reach. Not to mention seeing them in trouble, even attracting a bit of their attention was considered an honor.

Yet now, they could even watch them in turmoil—what an interesting, even exciting thing this was?

Indeed, many underground gambling dens had already opened books on who Johnny Blackbird would kill, and whether he would succeed.

This was becoming a low-key nationwide carnival.

In comparison, the previous Port District conflict, which once set the whole city ablaze, lost its attention in an instant.

Over time, only the Sea God Church and Sea King Lockeby’s people continued to glare at each other, brewing something.

However, with the setup of the secret battle stage in the South District, many had been redeployed to assist in the fray.

The Port District conflict seemed to have suddenly cooled down.

Maurice, now the hottest figure in the Sea God Church, wouldn’t allow this to happen.

Even though, just yesterday, the High Priest of Heigen had covertly approached him, urging him to restrain himself and not act so impulsively.

The balance between the Sea God Church and the Kingdom was painstakingly maintained by each generation of Popes over the years, and he was destroying this balance.

It sounded like kind advice.

But Maurice sensed a kind of coercion, a familiar coercion.

Back then, as a Little Priest, he was oppressed by all kinds of things, like the will of the church, the Pope’s insights.

No, it was over.

You want me to silently become your sacrificial lamb? Impossible, now I am the messenger of the God. I will handle this my way.

He gazed out at the gradually darkening sky outside the window, deciding to undertake a truly grand venture.

Draining the glass of wine, he softly murmured a line.

"Goddess above."