I've imagined my own death countless times. But I never imagined that one day I would be tied up like a dog and take my last breath at the bottom of the sea. Luckily, Trist stabbed my handcuffs by mistake before he could get rid of the dagger.

I broke free from the iron ropes and found Trist as immobile as a dead man. I grabbed him by the collar and swam desperately to the surface.

After swimming a few meters, a red light suddenly lit up in front of me.

Then there was a loud bang, and then large pieces of iron sheets fell one after another. An iron cannon plunged into the deep sea; The charred rudders, the messy corpses, etc., all sank into the water. A bloody human head, vaguely recognizable with tattoos all over its face, stared blankly at me before tumbling and falling into the darkness.

I paddled so wildly that my lungs were bleeding.

Seconds ticked like years, and I finally poked my head out of the water. I gulped out the brackish sea water as hard as I could. But I still found it difficult to breathe – the sea was so thick with smoke that it was so hard to keep your eyes open. It's not like I've never seen a fire, but I've never seen it burn like this. It looks as if someone threw the whole world into a fire pit.

"Oh my God......" I sighed under my breath.

Planck's ship was completely finished, and only the wreckage that dotted the bay was still smoking. The wooden houses on the docks crackled and collapsed one after another in the sea of fire. A burning sail floated down and nearly dragged us both back to the bottom. Everywhere you can see people with fire on their bodies, screaming and jumping into the water from the ruined docks. The smell of sulfur, dust, death, burnt hair, and burnt skin...... Doomsday.

I tried Trist and he's not dead. But the dog bastard was much heavier than it looked, and I had broken a few ribs, so I had to fight hard to keep his head on the water.

A charred plank floated in front of me, and I quickly fished it out, then flipped it over onto the board and climbed up again. It's not very strong, but it's survived.

That's when I had a chance to check it out. He was no longer breathing. I punched him in the chest a dozen times in a row, and just as I began to worry about whether it would break his chest, he coughed up a large mouthful of seawater and slowly regained consciousness. I breathed a sigh of relief, and then became furious.

"You shitty idiot! What are you doing here? ”

It took him a minute to speak.

"I tried your way." He muttered, "I want to try the feeling of a tendon in my brain—" he coughed, "It feels terrible." ”

Schools of razorfish, as well as some unnamed vicious sea beasts, began to gather and grind their teeth around the planks. It was so hard to pick up my life, and I couldn't help but shrink back.

A badly injured crew member struggled to surface, panicking to grab onto the ship's planks. I stretched out my foot and kicked him in the face, and suddenly a thick tentacle rose from the sea, rolled it around his neck, and dragged it down. Looks like they're going to have to be busy for a while.

The feast of the fish was boiling over, and I took advantage of the fact that they were still finished, and I removed a piece of wood and rowed it as an oar.

It was probably a few hours of paddling, and my arms hurt and heavily, but I didn't dare stop.

It wasn't until the carnage in the sea faded away that I sat down and didn't want to move again.

I was exhausted and my whole body was hot, like a bullet casing coming out of the chamber of a gun. The bay in the distance was stained crimson with the blood of Planck and the others, and there was not a single shadow of a survivor.

And I'm still alive, I'm simply the luckiest person in the entire Runeterra lands. However, it is also possible that it borrowed Trist's shit luck.

A corpse floated not far away, and what it was holding was somewhat familiar. Dressed like Planck's cronies, with Trist's hat in his hand. I scooped it up and threw it to Trist, and he had a nonchalant look on his face, as if he knew that the hat would return to him sooner or later.

"Isn't it time for us to go find your gun?"

"Did I hear me right, you still want to go back?" I pointed to a messy beach.

Trist looked bitter.

"There wasn't enough time. The boss of Bilgewater is dead - it doesn't matter who did it, what matters is that the various gangs in the city are leaderless, and they will inevitably be merged. Maybe it's already started. ”

"Don't be funny, how can you live without a gun?"

"It's a little hard. However, I know that there is a gunsmith in Piltover, and he is quite skilled. ”

"Piltover ......" he fell into deep thought.

"Where there is money everywhere."

Trist was silent.

After a while, he finally spoke, "Well, I haven't decided whether or not to cooperate with you or not—you're even more stupid than before." ”

"Well, Trist. Fett is also not a good title to be a partner. What unenlightened idiot would give this shit name? ”

"Don't you think it's so much better than my real name." He laughed.

"That's right."

I laughed too, and the old days were like being in front of me. Suddenly, my face turned grim and I stared into his eyes.

"Ugly words ahead, if you ask me to carry the bag for you again, even if it's just a thought, I'll blow your head off. Not negotiable. ”

Trist's smile vanished. He looked at me coldly for a moment, then a smile came back to his face.

"Deal."

Bilgewater is collapsing.

The streets echoed with the screams of despair and the wails of the dying. Vast slums were reduced to ashes in the fires and raised high into the city. Order no longer exists, and the power vacuum that the man left behind spurred all the gangs in the city, and everyone was gearing up. A war has begun, just because of one sentence: Planck is dead.

Cruel ambition and narrow-minded hatred have been secretly confronted for many years, and finally found an opportunity to appear.

At the pier, a group of whalers skewered a rival gang of fishermen with harpoons and hung them on a fishing line.

At the island's highest peak, the magnificent gate that stood majestically from the opening of the port of Bilgewater is now in rubble. A gang leader entrenched here is dragged out of the bed by his rivals. He had barely let out a cry when his head was smashed and he died on the marble steps in front of his bed.

In a corner of the harbor, a red hat was bandaging the wound on his head as he frantically fled for his life. He nervously turned back all the way, but never saw the person chasing him.

Iron Hook had completely torn his face with the Red Riding Hoods, and he had to rush back to the station to inform the others.

He rushed around the corner, shouting for all the brethren to get ready for battle, but the murderous intent in his heart choked in his throat - in front of the door of the Red Hat's lair stood a group of iron hooks, and the scimitars in his hands were stained with black and red blood. The leader was a pockmark who was so thin that he didn't take the shape of a human. A cruel smile appeared on his face.

The red hat left only a curse as a last word.

In a dark alley on the other side of the bay, there was a surgeon in a hut who was trying to finish the job at hand. The pay is very expensive, in addition to making him conscientious, but also making him shut up afterwards. It took the doctor half an hour to peel the man's coat off the rotten flesh. Rao was accustomed to all kinds of terrible wounds, and he couldn't help but shrink his neck when he saw his mud-like arms. He hesitated, carefully considering his words, for fear of angering his patient.

"Right...... Sorry for your hands...... I can't cure it. ”

In the candlelit room, the bloodied man staggered to his feet and calmed himself down before steady. Suddenly, he reached out with his other working hand and grabbed the doctor by the neck. He slowly lifted the doctor off the ground and against the wall.

Although he was holding a man in his hand, the barbarian had no expression on his face and just stood motionless. Then he jerked his hand away and let the doctor fall to the ground.

The doctor was completely frightened, and only knelt on the ground and coughed vigorously. The patient walked to the innermost part of the room by the light of the surgical lamp and pulled open the drawer of an old cabinet. He methodically pulled open each floor one by one, looking for something. Finally, he stopped.

"Everything has a purpose." He said, looking at his broken arm.

He pulled out what he found and threw it at the doctor's feet. It was a steel bone saw, flickering coldly in the faint light of the lantern.

"Sawing it off. I still have work to do. ”