章節 34: The Mad Alchemist of Zaun
This is a paradise of sin.
This is a den of darkness.
The dim lighting casts an eerie and malevolent atmosphere, yet there are those who are irresistibly drawn to this wickedness.
The Night Star, the largest casino in the city of Tianshin, a veritable den of iniquity, cannot disguise the accumulated evils that have festered here over the years, even with its mundane name.
The raucous laughter of lecherous men, the cheerful shouts of gamblers, and the sultry moans of scantily clad women, who are often subjected to groping hands, fill the vast hall, creating an oppressive haze.
On the central stage, a fully nude pole dancer sways her seductive form, captivating countless gazes and eliciting salivating admiration.
From time to time, weary gamblers seeking a "break" approach the stage, lecherously tearing down the tags from the dancer's necks, tossing coins into a box at the stage's edge, referencing the list of performers displayed at the center.
The casino promptly arranges for another dancer to don the tags and take over her predecessor's position. As the previous dancer and her patron slip away into a shadowy, secluded booth, the heavy breaths of the man and the excited moans of the woman gradually merge into the cacophony of the chaotic hall.
Indulgence and debauchery are the themes of this place.
This is a realm even angels would shun from gazing upon.
Yet today, it seems that an unknown angel has grown weary of this breeding ground of darkness and sin, and the earth trembles violently!
"Boom!"
With a thunderous roar, dust swirls and splintered wood flies!
A golden figure bursts through the opulent dome of the grand hall with a frenzied force, crashing down like a comet striking the earth.
Golden arcane light dances, and blood splatters in all directions!
In an instant, the area near the boy's landing is awash with severed limbs and blood.
Amidst the splattering blood, a cold and furious roar resounds, "Joseph!!! Get out here!!!"
Before anyone has a chance to react, they are all swept away by the violent storm that erupts beside the boy, clearing the hall in an instant!
Standing coldly in the center of the hall, Ezreal's presence causes the ground to crack and splinter like a spider's web under the immense force.
Countless men and women are hurled against the walls of the hall, cowering in the dark corners where the light from the grand chandeliers fails to reach.
In terror, they gaze at the golden-haired youth standing in the center, his handsome face ablaze with fury, too frightened to move.
Though they know not his origins, the sheer destructive power he emanates leaves no doubt; they shrink back, fearful of becoming the target of this unknown powerhouse's wrath.
In a moment, the once incessantly noisy casino hall descends into an eerie silence.
Until the sound of footsteps gradually approaches, the figure of a middle-aged noble appears at the entrance of the second-floor staircase, surrounded by thugs.
"Heh heh... A distinguished guest has arrived, hahaha..." With a hearty laugh, Joseph gestures to the thugs behind him. "Might I inquire as to the name of this young man?"
Upon receiving the cue, the thugs scatter, silently ushering the frightened men and women from the corners of the hall. Coldly observing the grinning noble on the staircase, Ezreal disregards the thugs' actions and speaks in an icy tone, "You are not Joseph."
The suppressed anger in his voice leaves no doubt that the golden-haired youth is ready to unleash his fury at any moment.
"Oh? And why do you say that?" The middle-aged noble feigns confusion. "I am indeed the one and only Count Joseph."
"Hmph! Two years ago, I passed through here and had dealings with Joseph. If you truly are him, I find it hard to believe you would so easily forget someone who once crippled you."
Ezreal scoffs, "Regardless of who you are, you would do well to hand over Sister Freya immediately, and pray that you haven't harmed her during this time. Otherwise, I assure you, you will come to regret your existence in this world."
"Oh? Heh heh... Such bravado from one so young, Mr. Ezreal. While you are indeed powerful, the youngest ninth-tier champion on the continent, it seems you are unaware that the Valoran continent is not a place where strength alone can resolve all matters."
Having been unmasked, Warwick no longer feels the need to maintain the facade of a tedious casino tycoon; after all, the appearance of the boy before him has already achieved half of his objective.
He gently peels away the thin layer of human skin from his face, revealing the rugged yet still handsome visage of a middle-aged man. "Heh heh... This human mask is quite effective, though it lacks breathability."
Rubbing his face vigorously, Warwick chuckles, "However, since you, Mr. Ezreal, have graced us with your presence, I would be remiss not to offer you a proper welcome. Talon, my good fellow, please bring our lovely little songstress out for Mr. Ezreal to see."
Calling out to the empty air, Warwick smiles at the golden-haired youth, "Please hold on a moment."
Upon hearing his name spoken so casually, Ezreal's heart sinks.
His remarkable memory tells him he has never met this middle-aged man, and thus cannot claim any acquaintance; yet, the man recognizes him instantly, and a sense of foreboding washes over him.
Sure enough...
Without a sound, a cold man steps from the shadows, cradling an unconscious girl in his arms. Her flowing aquamarine hair cascades gracefully, and her exquisite features are helplessly illuminated by the dim light.
Seeing the girl, the golden-haired youth rushes forward, but contrary to expectations, there is no violent confrontation. The indifferent assassin merely tosses the unconscious girl toward him before gradually vanishing into the void.
Ezreal momentarily freezes, instinctively catching the girl with gentle hands, a look of confusion crossing his face.
"Heh heh... Young man, allow me to introduce you to a trouble that even a ninth-tier champion cannot easily resolve," Warwick chuckles, stroking his chin. "You must be quite curious, right? Wondering why we would so readily hand over our lovely songstress to you? Heh heh... The answer is quite simple."
"That is, um... never mind, revealing the answer directly is too dull. Let's turn this into a guessing game; I'll let you figure it out! Heh..."
Clapping with a smile, Warwick continues, "As for the hint, it's my name. I am Warwick."
Ezreal's pupils dilate, and his expression darkens dramatically. "The... Mad Alchemist of Zaun?"
"Indeed, indeed! Mr. Ezreal guessed it in one go! It seems my reputation on the continent is not insignificant, after all, hahaha..." With a bright laugh, Warwick strokes his scruffy chin. "So, Mr. Ezreal, I trust you now understand the situation?"
"..." The boy falls silent, his worried gaze fixed on the unconscious girl in his arms, his heart a tumult of emotions.
The name of Warwick, the Mad Alchemist of Zaun, is certainly not unfamiliar to the people of this continent.
He is notorious for his obsession with terrifying potions and his allegiance to the Noxian military. In pursuit of a new type of potion, he once released a horrific toxin in a small nation in southern Noxus, resulting in the deaths of tens of thousands within three days, leaving the land barren and devoid of life.
Now, that region, dubbed the Land of Voodoo, is so desolate that even birds dare not alight there, a place that seems abandoned by the world itself.
Moreover, he is even more infamous for his penchant for human experimentation with viruses.
All enemies who fall into his hands inevitably become subjects for his grotesque trials. Based on what he knows of Warwick, Ezreal does not believe this madman would show any mercy for Freya.
"What virus did you unleash?" Ezreal asks coldly, cradling Freya in his arms.
"Oh dear, I shan't reveal the name of the virus. Even if I did, you wouldn't recognize it, heh... In truth, I'm not entirely sure what it's called either, hahahaha... It's merely a new strain I'm researching."
With a hearty laugh, the handsome middle-aged man adds, "However, I do possess the antidote. Would you like it, young man? Heh heh... If you do, just say so! I would hate to see such a beautiful lady like Miss Freya perish."
"Then what do I need to offer in exchange for the antidote?" Ezreal retorts with a cold smile. "Just state your demands plainly. As long as I, Ezreal, possess it, and you can provide the antidote, I would not hesitate to trade even my life for it."
"Oh ho ho... What benefit would taking your life bring me, Mr. Ezreal? Heh heh... You've misunderstood me; I harbor no ill will, truly."
"Heh heh... What I seek is nothing grand, you see. I believe it will seem quite ordinary and insignificant to you, and that is... heh... the map of the ancient ruins in the Shurima Desert that you described."
Warwick grins, "So, what do you think? My request is rather modest, no?"
"Fine, I'll give it to you," Ezreal replies without hesitation upon hearing the terms. "It's just a map, after all. You give me the antidote, and I'll provide it immediately."
"Heh heh... Excellent! How refreshing! I do enjoy doing business with someone as straightforward as you, Mr. Ezreal!" The middle-aged man claps his hands in delight.
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