Chapter 1177: Chapter 1163: Tony the Stylist
Alfred’s interrogation method was extremely straightforward.
In summary, four words: severe torture.
However.
The other party was remarkably stubborn, gritting his teeth, unwilling to utter a single word.
"This kid’s bones are pretty tough, and his spirit body definitely has measures to prevent leakage. If we forcibly search his spiritual memory, we might get nothing and cause his immediate death."
Baiyu furrowed his brows and said.
Alfred nodded, took a deep breath, "It seems we need additional help. Luckily, I happen to know someone like that."
After speaking.
He grabbed the corpse that had been reduced to a human stick, and with a single hand, grabbed firmly as the surrounding space twisted in an instant, a spectrum of light converging to form a tunnel.
"Let’s go."
Alfred said to Baiyu.
Immediately, the two quickly disappeared outside the factory.
The tunnel shattered.
Baiyu and Alfred appeared in front of a wooden house, inside of which dim lights flickered, and outside the door was a black cat, its fur bristling, staring at the two sudden visitors before leaping up with a cry and darting inside.
"Rice Cake, you dead cat! Jumping around again, did you see something?"
A sharp male voice called out.
Then the wooden door opened, and out walked a disheveled man sporting a multi-colored explosive hairstyle.
His hairstyle was really outlandish.
It caught Baiyu’s eye instantly.
How to put it.
Baiyu had never seen such a striking hairstyle, besides the eccentric style of Shamate or the stylists in Tony’s salon, others couldn’t pull it off at all.
"Tony, there’s something I need to trouble you with."
Alfred, holding the human stick, said sternly.
Baiyu almost spat out upon hearing the name, it was actually Tony.
"What’s the matter?"
Tony flicked his hair, looking at Alfred, then his gaze fell on Baiyu before finally sweeping over the human stick.
"Make him spill everything about Count Misar."
Thud.
Alfred tossed the human stick onto the ground.
Tony frowned, leisurely fetching a cigarette from his hand and lighting it slowly, "Sure, it’s a piece of cake."
With that.
He grasped the human stick single-handedly and slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke towards the stick’s face.
Soon.
Baiyu noticed a strange pure white glint flashing in the man’s eyes.
The cigarette burned slowly.
But Tony didn’t take action.
After a moment.
Tony inhaled deeply: "Count Misar is holding a grand sacrificial ceremony for some purpose.
The specific location is unknown to this person.
He only knows about someone called Iron Armor Shell, who is his contact, and all the slaves he bought were handed over to Iron Armor Shell.
They meet every night under the third bridge of the Abai Bridge District."
After saying.
Tony gently swayed his explosive hair, "How do you say?"
"Of course, continue searching, but the subsequent operations will likely require your assistance as well," Alfred said in a low voice.
Tony didn’t refuse: "Then let’s go. Tomorrow I have a few clients scheduled for hair, can’t leave them hanging. Let’s resolve this early and return early."
Alfred nodded, reaching out to grab the void.
In an instant.
The colorful tunnel condensed again.
The three stepped into the tunnel, disappearing from the spot.
...
Abai Bridge District.
Third bridge.
When the three arrived, it was already late at night, with few pedestrians around, thick fog enveloping the surroundings of Abaida.
Under the bridge, a small yacht was docked.
"This is the place, that yacht is where they deliver," Tony pointed to the yacht and said.
The three stood in the shadows, seemingly vanished.
Not even passing pedestrians, nor the cats and dogs that hurried by, noticed the presence of the three.
This was Tony’s ability.
He was an extraordinary from the secret realm, the specific method was unclear, but he seemed to have gained power from the Moth of All.
"Take action."
Alfred did not hesitate.
Instantly, the space before him split open like a wound, opening a dark mouth.
He stepped into it.
After stepping out.
The person was already standing on the yacht’s deck.
"All wounds are doorways, even spatial wounds," Tony said with a sigh, stepping in as well.
Baiyu was the last to enter.
With the Chief Judge of the Scarred Church and this mysterious, powerful Tony, he felt he wouldn’t have any chance to make moves tonight.
At that moment Alfred stepped onto the boat.
Countless sharp flying blades attacked from all directions.
Alfred saw these flying blades and did not choose to withstand them on his body, instead he swiftly disappeared from the spot in a flash.
Bang bang bang!
The blades plunged into the water, instantly causing fierce explosions, splashing bursts of water.
At this moment.
Alfred was already inside the ship, and a man in a black robe with crimson eyes retreated quickly, running towards a nearby window, intending to escape through it.
Alfred extended his right hand and gently squeezed.
Swish swish swish!
Through the long passageway in the cabin, it was like a storm of knives and swords swept through, leaving scars everywhere on the floor, ceiling, and walls, as if someone had randomly gouged with a box cutter on an eraser.
The fleeing man was instantly sliced into shreds.
Alfred furrowed his eyebrows: "Not this one, Iron Armor Shell isn’t him..."
His silhouette flickered and reappeared in another room inside the ship, where more than a dozen unconscious slaves were held captive,
Two men in black robes with crimson eyes were preparing some liquid to feed to these people.
After quickly killing the two, Alfred continued moving in a bizarre fashion, searching for Iron Armor Shell.
That was the true target of this operation.
He was determined to act and must attain sufficient results, regardless of the circumstances tonight, subsequently Count Misar would certainly be more cautious, more alert, and even crazier.
Because the Church has declared war.
Count Misar, the viper, would certainly slink back into its hole.
Very soon.
Alfred was frenziedly slaughtering everyone on board, in the end, all the black-robed, red-eyed humans on the yacht were killed by him.
But still, there was no trace of Iron Armor Shell.
The people on the ship were very weak, unable to withstand Alfred’s spiritual pressure, definitely not part of the core group.
"It seems you didn’t gain anything, friend."
Tony had his hands in his pockets, like a street punk, walked over nonchalantly.
"Did you find anything?"
Alfred had clearly grown accustomed to his speaking style.
"To be honest, a little. Iron Armor Shell may not necessarily be a person’s name..." Tony’s eyes gleamed with insight: "Perhaps it’s the title for something else. From that man’s memory, I only got that he was supposed to hand the slaves over to Iron Armor Shell."
