Rebirth: Super Banking System-Chapter 935 - 820: Uneatable Lamb (Subscribe Please!)

Belev was also getting ready to run.

Suddenly, he remembered what the Fighter had just said.

’This place isn’t safe.’

No sooner had he finished speaking than something happened.

Belev halted his steps, his weapon constantly aimed at the Fighter and asked fiercely, "Was it you who did this?" The others stopped as well, glaring at the Fighter.

"Elder Belev, you can’t just say anything you want, do you have any evidence?" The Fighter didn’t admit anything. A lot of things are understood without being said; once said, they become evidence. Some things are doable but not speakable.

Did Belev believe it?

Clearly, he didn’t.

"Hmph, it must have been you. What exactly are you trying to do? Don’t think you can threaten us with this. I’m telling you, I’m not scared at all. Better stop these tactics, and also, compensate us for our loss," Belev said harshly.

"Elder Belev, you need to talk with evidence. To frame us like this, it’s just too childish," said the Fighter.

Belev was about to speak.

At that moment.

Batson, who had just run out, came back, hurriedly saying, "Elder, our food warehouse to the east exploded, the damage is severe. Thankfully it’s raining, so there’s no need for firefighting. Now outside, everything is chaos, what should we do?"

Two accidents in one night can’t just be accidents.

An Ammunition Warehouse explosion was understandable.

But how does a food warehouse explode? From frying in oil?

Belev’s eyes immediately reddened. freewёbnoνel.com

He rushed up to the Fighter, pressing the gun against the Fighter’s forehead. The Fighter didn’t move, letting Belev do as he pleased; there wasn’t a trace of fear in his eyes, they were so calm it was as if he didn’t care about life or death at all.

Belev roared, "It was you, definitely you. Very well, truly, you’ve successfully angered me. You just wait, this incident, I won’t..."

"Boom..."

There was another earthquake.

Accompanied by violent shaking, Belev nearly lost his balance, and in his anxiety, he almost pulled the trigger. Thankfully, at the last moment, his mind controlled his hand, and he didn’t pull it.

When the earthquake stopped.

Belev steadied himself.

The ferocious look in his eyes had disappeared, replaced by horror. He wasn’t alone; the other Tribal Elders and high-ranking members of the tribe in the hall felt the same way. There was only one thought in their minds:

Crazy.

This prison is crazy.

They dared to set off Fireworks in their tribe.

And they set off three at once.

Hearing the continuous cries from outside, amidst the chaos, their hearts sank to rock bottom. They had just witnessed these people’s audacity, and now, they had seen their strength and ruthlessness.

Another subordinate rushed in.

Reporting an explosion at the food warehouse in the cave to the west. The interior of the cave collapsed, and it was impossible to dig it out in a short time.

Hearing this.

Belev and the others stepped back in unison.

"Sss..."

A gasp of cold air that chilled them to the core.

"You, how dare you, what exactly are you trying to do?" Belev gritted his teeth and said, hands trembling. If it weren’t for the fact that only one person from the other side had come, he felt he surely would have had the courage to kill one.

Definitely.

"As we said before, we just want to cooperate with your tribe, give you a little spending money. But you refused flat out. A hundred thousand dollars for peace of mind, that’s a good deal, don’t you think?" the Fighter said.

Belev took a deep breath.

His heart was already exploding with anger.

But he had nowhere to vent. After looking around at the other Tribal Elders, Belev gritted his teeth and said, "Fine, a hundred thousand dollars, I accept. But you must compensate for this damage."

"What damage? These accidents have caused us to pay? That’s not possible," said the Fighter, shaking his head.

Belev fumed, "It was definitely you who did it. I don’t know how you did it, but you’re not getting out of this damage." He no longer cared about the mining incident; he had to fill this hole first.

Then they would think of a way to get revenge.

The Fighter paused for a moment.

Just as Belev thought the Fighter was about to agree,

The Fighter sighed, "Ah, Chief Belev, it was you who said this place was uneasy. With such incidents occurring, there must be historical reasons. We’ve only just arrived; how could we be responsible for this?"

The words had barely fallen.

"Boom..."

Three seconds later.

"Boom..."

"Boom..."

"..."

Six blasts in succession.

Left everyone in the room utterly bewildered.

Belev’s eyes were furious; raising the gun, he shouted, "Stop it! If there’s another explosion, I’ll shoot! I mean it, you must have a walkie-talkie. Listen up, one more and I’ll fire..."

"Boom..."

A roaring sound.

This time it wasn’t in the distance.

But nearby, right beside their house—the enormous shockwave knocked down the wooden house’s supports. Reacting swiftly, Belev and the Tribal Elders ran out, leaving the Fighter behind without a second thought.

As they burst outside,

Dense raindrops pelted their heads.

The chill penetrated their skin.

Their minds cleared up considerably.

Seeing the flames in the distance, Belev’s vision darkened. Thankfully, Batson steadied him. As Belev regained his clarity, he thought of the gun in his hand and turned to look at the Fighter.

His gaze faltered.

He realized the Fighter hadn’t run.

Instead, he stood in his place.

The spot where the house had been intact, his face still unfazed—an astonishing sense of composure. Belev was impressed; the house falls and you don’t run, could this be one of those legendary resolute warriors?

He let the rain drench him.

The Fighter did not move an inch.

The outside was in uproar—more and more people arriving, onlookers, shouting, but the people inside quieted down. Belev and the tribe’s upper echelon remained silent; the situation had escalated to this point.

They now understood Black Jail’s ’solution to trouble’—their determination was to act tough, an attitude of ’who dares wins.’ Their Tribe might be large, hundreds of thousands strong, truly terrorizing far and wide.

But their adversary didn’t need to eliminate the entire Tribe.

Just eliminate them.

Moreover,

That adversary had the capability.

There was nothing left...there was no ’left.’ They did not want such things to happen.

Belev no longer knew whether he should raise the gun. He glanced around; faces were uncertain, changing like the weather. He took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the panic in his heart, and said, "Is this how you negotiate?"

Belev had sounded the retreat.

This sheep.

Seemed it wouldn’t be easy to consume.

"With such heavy rain, why don’t we find another place to talk? Getting everyone sick with a cold wouldn’t be good," the Fighter replied, avoiding the question and suggesting a change of venue; by this time, it seemed Belev had made a decision.

Upon hearing this,

Inside, Belev was cursing up a storm.

Getting sick from the rain.

Did you really not know why this was happening?

Both sides were nearly at the point of taking lives, and you talk to me about catching a cold?

"Fine, let’s go to that building," Belev, through gritted teeth, pointed to a nearby structure and started walking. The Fighter followed, but now he was flanked by more than a dozen guns aimed at him.