Bilgewater is collapsing. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

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 prepare for battle, but the murderous intent in his heart choked in his throat - a group of iron hooks stood in front of the door of the Red Hat's lair, 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. ”