They all call me Great Master-Chapter 568 - 565: He’s Still a Child!

Sherik Candle Store—or rather, the Sherik Candle Workshop—had quite a reputation in the Old Town.

Not only were the candles of good quality, but they also boasted a proprietary secret formula—

Smokeless Candles!

A type of candle without any smoke or scent, rather bearing a faint, clean fragrance.

Of course, the people of Old Town had only heard of these things.

To use them?

Don't make me laugh.

One candle cost half a month's salary for the residents of Old Town; how could they possibly use them?

In fact, Old Town residents were reluctant to use even ordinary candles, let alone those fragrant smokeless ones during burning.

Most households resorted to oil lamps.

And even with kerosene lamps, they had to be economical.

Therefore, many Old Town residents deeply envied the Sherik Candle Workshop.

They treated Granny Sherik, the wife of Old Sherik, with utmost respect.

Because she was a kind woman who enjoyed helping those around her.

Of course, this didn't stop everyone from despising Little Sherik.

He was a good-for-nothing.

If it weren't for Granny Sherik stepping in every time, Little Sherik would have been bagged long ago.

Little Sherik was, of course, fully aware of these rumors.

Before, he pretended not to hear them.

Now?

It was different!

Little Sherik carefully sized up the man beside him, an ordinary-looking, thin man who definitely should not be taken lightly by Little Sherik.

Little Sherik knew the man only as 'Hardy.'

Besides this name, Little Sherik also knew Hardy was associated with Haite Furniture Store.

Rumor had it that the underworld of Old Town was managed by the esteemed Mr. Hardy.

Even the notorious Rat Street was said to have some connections with him.

The reason he could forge relations with such a big figure was all thanks to the late Flake.

Without Frank's introduction, it would have been impossible for him to meet such an important person at the gambling table.

Of course, Little Sherik didn't care about Frank's death.

He still owed Frank 5 Suo.

So, Frank's death was just that—Frank's death.

As for the rumors that Frank had made a fortune in Shire District before being offed?

Little Sherik expressed regret.

Then, he knew he would never do such a thing himself.

He wasn't that stupid.

He would find someone with clout to back him, and then?

Naturally, he would advance under that person's protection.

Just like the current Hardy.

"Boss Hardy, please believe me, I will be loyal to you!" Little Sherik almost begged.

And Hardy was all smiles.

He had heard such words too many times.

Even Little Sherik's expressions like this one, he had seen countless times.

So, Hardy was well aware of the result every single time.

Coming for money.

Leaving for money.

Murder, betrayal, strife.

All were normal.

Therefore, Hardy spoke softly—

"I need proof!"

As he said this, the thin middle-aged man looked towards the room beyond, where the sounds of Granny Sherik busily preparing dinner could be heard. Listening to such sounds, a chilling smile crept on the middle-aged man's face, and his eyes turned even fiercer and sharper.

Little Sherik was terrified.

All he wanted was to make money and to flaunt his power.

He had no intention of killing his own mother.

Suddenly, Little Sherik began to struggle.

Hardy, still seated nonchalantly, no longer spoke.

His being there was a sign that the Sherik Candle Store could not remain.

Both Little Sherik and Granny Sherik had to die.

However, before the two of them died, enjoying their struggle was permissible,

He loved this kind of struggle.

But what Hardy did not expect was that in less than three seconds, Little Sherik had left the room.

Listening to the brief, urgent cry from outside the room,

He then smelled the spreading Scent of Blood.

Hardy was stunned.

He had seen murderers before.

He had seen those who killed their own parents.

But he had never seen someone act as decisively as Little Sherik.

That ruthless?

Indeed, gamblers are not human!

Recalling the first time he saw Little Sherik in desperation at the gambling table, Hardy slightly withdrew his hand back into his sleeve.

About a few minutes later, Little Sherik returned, his body still smeared with Fresh Blood.

"Boss Hardy, I did it!"

Little Sherik spoke hastily, his face twisted with a grimace.

The moment he committed fratricide, Little Sherik's heart was completely warped.

Money, power, they shattered the last bits of goodness in Little Sherik's heart like a bulldozer.

Or rather...

Little Sherik had embraced what he believed was better.

"Well done!"

Hardy praised, patting Little Sherik on the shoulder as he lifted his hand.

Faced with Hardy's gesture of closeness, Little Sherik certainly wouldn't refuse.

Feeling the touch of Hardy's palm against his shoulder, Little Sherik felt as if his body lightened considerably, and then...

There was pain in his neck!

Spurt!

The blade hidden between the fingers swept across Little Sherik's neck, and fresh blood spouted out like a fountain.

Little Sherik died with his eyes wide open.

"Don't look at me, I may be a scumbag, but compared to you, I'm a bit better," Hardy declared confidently, ready to head to the kitchen.

He had just smelled the aroma of food.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Perfect, this dinner would serve as a reward for avenging Granny Sherik.

As for the fact that he had incited Little Sherik to kill his own mother?

What did that have to do with him?

Little Sherik could have ignored him.

He just mentioned it, and Little Sherik listened.

Whose fault was that?

Humming a tune from South Los, Hardy opened the door, only to be stabbed in the eye with a piece of iron wire.

His eyeball was pierced through.

Then his brain.

The iron wire churned rapidly.

Hardy felt an unprecedented pain.

Indescribable, unspeakable.

But it hurt.

And it wouldn't go numb.

Because within the pain, there was...

Itching!

A chubby figure appeared before Hardy, his typically warm face now cold and stern.

"Tsk, when is there ever not scum like you around? Don't worry, you'll be in pain for ten hours. Feel the 'Bloodflow's torment.'

As he spoke, Eivor turned to look at Acker.

The latter put away his 'Spider Silk,' and turned to leave.

Eivor understood the haste of this friend-foe 'Hidden Blade' squad leader.

For scum like Hardy, any action taken would surely be swift.

Dispatch someone to intercept Acker.

Then eliminate the future threats.

Of course, it was also necessary to take action against Alvin and Alma.

However, for future interests, Alvin and Alma wouldn't really be harmed, but they couldn't avoid suffering some physical pain.

"Consider it the first lesson in fleeing?"

Eivor mused to himself.

The escape route was fraught with difficulties.

It was good to suffer a bit first.

After all, one could get used to it after eating enough bitterness.

The two retired assassins left Sherik Candle Workshop.

Passing by the kitchen, neither of them paused.

Granny Sherik appeared shocked and perplexed to the end.

Perhaps she couldn't understand why her doting son would turn his hand against her.

In her eyes, her son...

Was still a child!

"Pathetic fellow," Eivor remarked, paying no heed to Alk walking away.

He had offered all the help he could.

Now?

Of course, it was time to go home.

'Cold Winter Festival' was upon them, and he needed to buy more ingredients to let his beloved wife and daughter taste his cooking skills—his improved skills!

'Goodbye, you fellow, and good luck!' Eivor silently wished in his heart.

Then he turned and left.

Sensing the receding footsteps behind him, Alk's pace slightly faltered.

'Thank you.'

After silently expressing his gratitude, the retired assassin flickered a few strides and appeared at his own front door.

Then, an uncontrollable look of astonishment spread across his face—

"What?!!"