A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Chapter 566 Violent - II

"He should be at the mining area outside the city... shall we strike now?"

"Fighting in the lower town risks affecting the civilians, but we don't need to act now. We'll move the day before the competition begins."

Oh, so they're allies?

Seraphina didn't expect this duo of dimwits to share her goal of eliminating Black Crocodile.

Regardless of their motives—so long as it wasn't to replace them or commit even greater atrocities—Seraphina didn't care why they punished villains. As long as the evildoer perished, it was a victory!

However, she didn't intend to rashly join forces with them. She planned to follow them to Black Crocodile and then take him down herself.

Then she overheard the two men below say:

"Besides Black Crocodile, we also need to deal with the Butcher and the Speckled Snake, right?":

"Yes, thanks to that Fenrir fellow, we don't have to handle the Speckled Snake ourselves. You take Black Crocodile, and I'll take the Butcher."

The Butcher, Seraphina also remembered, was known by the civilians of the lower town as a brutal figure who controlled that area.

They wanted to wipe them out in one fell swoop...

The girl wore a pensive expression; she was no longer the reckless and impulsive disaster she once was. Instead of being excited by encountering such "kind-hearted" people, she pondered what these two were planning.

It didn't seem like anything good...

"With the death of the three leaders controlling most of the lower town's forces, the area will fall into chaos. And now, during the most tumultuous period of Dispute Fortress... it will be easier for our people to move in. Don't mess this up, Redhawk."

"...I won't make a mistake on something like this. So, who will deal with Black Crocodile, and who with the Butcher?"

"Both of them are insignificant. Who handles whom doesn't matter; the key is that they must die silently... The people in the upper town generally don't care about the lower town's affairs. As long as these scum die quietly, the hyenas down there will cover up the stench of the corpses themselves," Boneblade responded indifferently.

"..." Redhawk was silent for a moment, then sighed. "But in the process, without the control of those three, the various forces in the lower town will fight for dominance... The civilians will have a hard time."

"Once our people come in, everything will get better."

She had a good idea.

This Dispute Fortress might indeed be different from other places, with many formidable individuals. Dealing with the scum here would take a long time.

But so what? A fight is a fight, no matter where or with whom.

"Right now, time is the one thing I own most."

The wolf whispered excitedly, her eyes glinting with a predatory desire.

*

Black Crocodile downed a large gulp of liquor, sitting high above and watching the laborers mine crystals below. Suddenly, he spat down a mouthful of liquor-laced saliva.

The saliva and liquor splashed down, quickly corroding the stone walls and emitting white smoke. The unfortunate laborers who came into contact with it screamed in agony before collapsing, their cries swiftly silenced.

The burly middle-aged man laughed heartily at the sight of the laborers' grim demise, but his laughter soon faded, leaving his face devoid of amusement.

"Boring..."

Propping his chin with one hand, he took another sip of liquor and sighed in exasperation.

The current work was dreadfully monotonous.

Black Crocodile didn't care whether the ants below lived or died, nor did he care about their feelings towards him.

In fact, this mining task shouldn't even be assigned to them—how could mortal efficiency compare to alchemical machinery and professional sorcerers?

Sending this worthless bunch to mine was merely to give their lives some semblance of meaning.

"As that lunatic Milo would say... If they loiter around doing nothing every day, I might just end up killing them all... Hic."

Black Crocodile lazily belched. He couldn't disagree with Milo's sentiment. As an extraordinary being, he risked his life constantly. So why should these ants, whom he could crush effortlessly, live so comfortably?

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