Chapter 109: Utterly Bewildered

If one were to look for a single word to describe the expressions on the faces of the Caesar’s Legion Commander and Monks at this moment, "bewildered" would be a fitting choice. They stared blankly as Faelen picked up the crate, stared blankly as he nodded at them, and then watched in disbelief as he took a step back—was he actually planning on just leaving like that?

"Give me back my money!"

The Legion Commander reacted faster than Monks. With a roar, he drew his weapon and pulled the trigger on Faelen. A series of gunshots rang out, and a stream of bullets tore through the air, disappearing into the ethereal mist. But Faelen’s figure had already vanished completely into the fog, nowhere to be found.

"Damn it all to hell!"

Seeing Faelen disappear, the Legion Commander flew into a rage. He raised his gun and fired several more shots in the direction where Faelen had vanished, but unfortunately, his luck was not with him; at least, it appeared he hadn't hit his target at all.

"Damn it! Everyone, lock this place down immediately and find that bastard!"

"Woo—!!"

Soon, accompanied by the Commander’s roar, the blare of a sharp horn echoed through the area. The Legion soldiers, who had been sitting in their vehicles, hoisted their weapons and charged toward the spot where Faelen had left. At the same time, the blinding glare of high-beams cut through the darkness, illuminating the wilderness ahead.

As the lights hit, the men were shocked to discover that they were now surrounded by a thick, swirling fog. Even at a relatively short distance, they could barely see their own comrades—damn it, this was the wilderness; where did all this fog come from?

What was even more eerie was that they could still feel the strong, howling winds whipping across the plains. The gusts whirled through the crowd, causing the mist to churn and roll incessantly, yet strangely, the fog refused to dissipate.

Come to think of it, how did this mist even appear in the first place?

"Men, move the cargo!"

Seeing the Legion begin to scramble, Monks hastily issued his own orders. While the Legionnaires remained confused, Monks had already deduced that the man from earlier was likely "The Doctor." After all, the Federation had experienced many conflicts with The Doctor, though not a single person had returned alive. Through the purchase of intelligence, however, the Federation had at least gained an understanding of his appearance and characteristics. When he first saw Faelen, Monks’ heart had skipped a beat, but before he could react, the man had simply taken the crate and walked away. This actually made Monks feel a bit relieved; otherwise, he wasn't sure if he should have tried to seize the cargo or eliminate the enemy first.

But now that "The Doctor" was gone, there was no reason for them to stay. Monks issued his orders, and several soldiers stepped forward, intending to haul the cargo away. To Monks' surprise, just as the soldiers were about to reach the crate, the Legion Commander stepped forward, blocking their path.

"Wait!"

"What is the meaning of this?"

Monks frowned as he looked at the Commander. In response to his inquiry, the Commander let out a cold sneer.

"We had an agreement: money in one hand, goods in the other. I haven't received my money yet, and you want to take the goods? It’s not that easy."

"You...!"

Hearing this, Monks’ eyebrows shot up. "I already gave you the money!"

"But I never received a single cent."

The Legion Commander looked at Monks with a cold, murderous glint in his eyes. "Who knows if that person was sent by you? I’ll only say this once: if I don't get the money, nobody touches the cargo! If anyone tries to take it by force...!"

As he spoke, the Commander waved his hand menacingly, and several soldiers stepped forward, leveling their weapons at Monks and his men.

"Damn it..."

Watching this scene, Monks gritted his teeth, his fists clenched tight. Looking at the "cargo" right in front of him, for a fleeting moment, he truly wanted to just draw his weapon and slaughter the lot of them. But... in the current situation, did he really want to burn bridges? Forget it, whatever! The Federation only had this one path left; if he didn't secure the cargo, he would have no way to answer to the mysterious organization behind him. No matter what, he had to get his hands on the cargo! At any cost!

With that thought, Monks’ expression darkened. He stepped back quietly, keeping a vigilant eye on the Commander, and took a deep breath...

"Aah—!"

Before Monks could issue a command, a scream pierced the air from behind him. Startled, Monks turned around, peering into the gloom, and shouted:

"What is it? What happened?"

"Report, sir! We’re under attack!"

"Attack?"

Monks felt a chill. How could they be under attack? Could it be... The Doctor? A tremor ran through him. He knew well that the Federation was on The Doctor’s "treatment list," and he had heard from informants exactly what that meant. Any faction on that list was systematically wiped out. Based on his style, it was impossible that he had just shown up to steal the energy chips and leave... Damn it, did he want the chips *and* their lives?

"Everyone, disperse! Take defensive positions!"

As he shouted, Monks scrambled backward. He was caught between a rock and a hard place—the Legion wouldn't let him take the goods, but he was now under attack by The Doctor. If he didn't get the cargo, leaving was pointless! The only option left was to team up with the Legion... Damn it! It was questionable whether they would even want to cooperate, and if he showed any sign of weakness now, the Legion might just turn tail and leave.

Alas, misfortune never comes alone. Just as this thought crossed his mind, he saw the Legion Commander sneer and wave a hand, signaling for several muscular men to step forward and shoulder the cargo. At the same time, the Commander glanced at Monks with a smile.

"Oh, it looks like you have some trouble... In that case, I suggest we continue this transaction another time..."

"You...!!"

Monks was absolutely incensed. He glared at the Commander, about to retort, when he suddenly felt a violent gust of wind graze past his hair. The next moment, the heads of the muscular men in front of him exploded with a sickening "pop, pop, pop!" Their skulls were torn away by the sheer force of the impact, sending shards of bone, gore, and brain matter flying in all directions. The bodies swayed for a moment before collapsing to the ground with a thud, the cargo falling along with them.

"............"

Staring at the scene, the Legion Commander stood frozen in place. After a moment, he reached up to wipe the blood and brains from his face, then roared like a wounded lion:

"Damn it! Who is it!!?"