<h4>Chapter 1437: The Minion</h4>


    Trantor: EndlessFantasy Trantion Editor: EndlessFantasy Trantion


    In that dark, depressing era, the imprisonment of minds by the Church and the supernatural forces in the dark corners were like a thick ck cloud, looming over the hearts of all ordinary folk. It was not invisible and formless; it was tangibly affecting people’s life. The strict curfew was one of its manifestations.


    By nightfall, the streets and alleys had to be cleared. Except for those with permission, no one was allowed to stay on the streets. It was not only a rule of terror but also a kind of protection. In the Dark Ages, towns at night were just as dangerous as the wilderness. Those who dared to venture outside at night usually never returned. Those who were lucky enough to make it back often times returned deeply changed, as though something terrible had reced their souls. The medieval Middle Ages were rife with legends, and arge part of them was, in fact, real.


    So whether it was the fear of a knight’s whip or the monsters in the dark, ordinary people would not remain on the streets after nightfall.


    However, there were always exceptions.


    There were always a few daring guys, either tempted by heretical power or the demon hunters. They chose the hazardous profession of bing somebody else’s eyes and minions at night. They could disguise themselves as humans to evade the demon hunters and otherworldlings, they knew the streets and alleys of the town like the back of their hand and recognized everyone from behind. These people were daring and shrewd. They treaded no man’snd between earthly and supernatural forces, staying in that danger zone between secr power and supernatural power. They provided limited loyalty to the otherworldlings and the demon hunters. doing their dirty work.


    If the price was right or the threat was high enough, they could even serve both masters at the same time. But getting caught would spell death for them. Nevertheless, for those who had already embarked on this path, they cared not of how long they would live as long as it served them in the present.


    The otherworldlings, demon hunters, and even the human forces were their enemies as well as allies.


    A guy named Gray Rat was the best in the business. He even imed to be the best of the best.


    Gray Rat had never gotten himself involved with supernatural forces. Many of his peers died because they could not stand the lure of mysterious knowledge. He was not too greedy for gifts from his master, who could either be a monster or a demon hunter. He knew that the rewards he received, however slight, were enough to keep him living a wealthy life. If he ever asked for a little more, it would kill him.


    Gray Rat was curled up in a stinky corner between two houses, and he had covered himself from head to tail with a piece of ragged, grayish-ck linen. He had been there for nearly an hour and was about to switch locations in ten minutes time. The night watchers would pass by soon. Thosezy guys wearing ck and blue blouses were oftente, but as a cautious minion, Gray Rat never risked it.


    If caught, he would be fortunate just to get away after a considerable beating. The master who hired him would note out to help him over such a ridiculously stupid reason.


    The night was dark, and the rags on his body did not help much against the cold. While he carefully moved his limbs, which had gone numb from staying in the same posture for too long, Gray Rat scanned the streets and alleys for any suspicious movements. He squinted. His vision was of a fluorescent dark blue, and living things that asionally passed by appeared red in his eyes.


    A few red spots ran across the street; there were mice. That was the time when they were the most active.


    Gray Rat understood why his peers could not stand the temptation of forbidden knowledge and power. Even Gray Rat often indulged in it. Owl Potion gave him incredible night vision, the Ritual of the Wild brought high physical strength, and Mongoose Ointment provided unlimited stamina as well as agility—all of them gave the illusion of immortality. When that illusion presented itself topdogs like the minions, it would be magnified. Not everyone could resist the psychological addiction.


    A man and a woman appeared in Gray Rat’s field of vision.


    He quickly gathered his wandering mind and focused on the man-and-woman pair.


    Years of experience told Gray Rat that there was something suspicious about the man and woman.


    It was not hard to figure out that other than the night patrols and knights, nobody would wander out into the streets during curfew hours. Even people like Gray Rat had to hide in a corner. Rue Truite, the only ce where the homeless would wander around at night, was awless zone in the city. Those who loitered there deserved to be hanged on the gallows, and no decent resident would sympathize with them.


    The tidily-dressed man and woman in the distance did not look like decent residents, but they were undoubtedly not beggars from Rue Truite.


    They sashayed across the streets during the curfew hours and looked around sneakily, which was a dead giveaway.


    Who are these guys? Are they monsters that specialize in hunting other monsters? Or is it a new trick from the Church to hunt for the witches? Gray Rat thought to himself.


    Suddenly, the man and woman stopped.


    Gray Rat’s heart skipped a beat. He knew that he had been exposed.


    Before he knew it, the woman in the long skirt had disappeared from his field of vision, and a faint shadow shed across the street. The next second, a pair of iron, mp-like hands grabbed his neck and pressed down tightly on his right shoulder. A cold female voice said, “Don’t move. Otherwise, I’ll tear you apart.”


    When Gray Rat heard the warning, he was instead, relieved. He knew that it was neither the Bloodthrall nor the Infected Werewolf, which would not have bothered to say a word before killing him.


    Gray Rat knew he would live since the person was talking. At worst, he would have to serve one more master.


    Hao Ren curiously looked at the thin man, whom Lily had subdued.


    At first nce, Hao Ren thought that the man was a beggar, as they were ubiquitous throughout the slums in that era. Dry and thin like a pole, with curly yellow hair and a pair of dodgy gray eyes, the man was wearing raggedy, grayish-ck linen. The man had probably never washed the linen since it left the factory; it stank to the high heavens. Perhaps the smell could havee from the street since the surroundings did not smell much nicer.


    Despite that, Hao Ren quickly realized that the guy in front of him was definitely not a beggar. A beggar could not afford such a pair of leather boots. Under the tattered linen was a set of clean and tidy clothes, which indeed did not belong to a homeless person.


    Lily had also mentioned earlier that the guy carried the smell of potions.


    “Whose minion are you?” Hao Ren looked at the man inquisitively. He was reminded of what Hasse had told him about the era. “Who gave you the potion?”


    Gray Rat shook like a leaf. He figured that such a reaction would please his captors. The trick always worked whether it was a monster or a hunter. He tried to figure out who Hao Ren and Lily were, but he was none the wiser. So, he lowered his head and grabbed the button of his coat. “Sir, with all due respect, my name is Gray Rat. I’m just a nobody living in the gutter. My previous master has left me, so if you’d like, I am now your minion.”


    Sure enough, just as Hasse said, this group of sneaky people had no loyalty. They were as stupid as they were slippery.


    “I’m giving you a second chance to reorganize your answer,” Hao Ren said as he signaled Lily to increase her mping force. “Don’t try to fool us. We can smell the fresh potions on your body. Who are you currently serving? What’s in this city?”


    Hao Ren did not use “who” but “what”, as it was one of the special terms he had to use whenmunicating with minions.


    The force from Lily’s hand had almost broken Gray Rat’s shoulder de, but her hand around his neck made it so that he could not make a sound. When the unbearable pain slightly eased, Gray Rat could finally breathe again. “I will tell you, I will tell you. Witches... A few witches and a wizard. They’ve only recently gathered in this town. A witch who’s said to be very powerful was caught a few days ago. They’ve probablye to save her.”


    “A witch?” Hao Ren frowned. He anticipated that they would be supernatural creatures searching for “Vivian’s treasure”, but a captured witch was a surprise. Was it a real witch? Or just an unfortunate victim in the witch-hunting craze?


    Hao Ren looked at the man who called himself Gray Rat. His dry skin and skinny body made sense now. It was most probably the long-term seque of taking inferior potions. Even now, Gray Rat still carried the scent of the potions. The minion thought that he had gained the physique of a superhuman, but little did he know that it came with the cost of shortening his lifespan. The guy’s existence was enough to show that witches and wizards were real. The so-called captured witch should also be true.


    Did the gathering of the wizards there have something to do with Vivian’s hibernation ce?