Latovigna, a barren town.

The torn boy was stumbled into the garbage dump and rolled to the streets with a smell of smell. Several men in guard uniforms surrounded him. One of them grabbed his collar and lifted him up, then threw him hard on the ground. The soldiers carried their long rifles and kicked the boy over and over with their mud-filled boots.

The child's body curled up into a ball. He used his arms and knees to block most of the attack, but the internal organs in his body were still moved as if they were kicked. At first, his internal organs were burning and burning, but soon it seemed that they did not hurt much again.

This is a child who is only a teenager, and was beaten by several soldiers on the path paved with bluestone. Maybe he is a gypsy child, maybe his family owes debts to someone with power, but no one cares about why. This happens almost every day in Latovigna, and there is nothing worth mentioning. People in the past will take a detour and move their eyes away and pretend not to see it.

But today is not unusual.

A soldier was kicking hard, and his palm, wearing black leather gloves, suddenly pressed on his shoulder without warning. Before the soldier could even realize what was going on, he was pulled back by force, and then he was kicked in his chest by a powerful roundabout kick. He flew out as if struck by lightning, flew across most of the street, rolling all the way to the intersection at the corner of the street, lying there like a dead pig.

All the soldiers stopped, and pedestrians passing by the intersection also stopped and looked at this side curiously.

What era is it, and there are still people who dare to manage the military's idiots?

The man who appeared there was a handsome man wearing a black coat with excellent body and leather gloves. His face was as cold as a knife, and his eyes were as cold as a black ice cave.

The guards in charge narrowed their eyes.

"Mediating on other people's business?" The guard walked up and looked at the man up and down. He was not angry, or he felt more novel than being angry.

Since many years ago, they have worked for the highest-ranking Baron in this country. At that time, the Baron's army had already been rampant throughout Latovigna. Now the Baron has received support from other governments and has eliminated all political enemies in one fell swoop and directly sat on the throne of Latovigna, which has made them even more unscrupulous.

No one dared to stand in front of them for so many years, and this man is the first one.

"Interesting, you must be a foreigner, right?" The guard leader squeezed out a smile. His subordinates cleverly surrounded the man without ordering. They were all ready to go, as if they had seen a rare prey.

Such prey can arouse their interest more than bullying a child who has no ability to resist.

The man raised his eyelids and swept them coldly.

The whole process seems to only happen in a moment.

No one saw how the matter happened, but everyone saw the bloody result. A guard was hit by something and flew backwards in the air, shooting through the stone wall and flew into a house on the street. A guard suddenly had blood all over his body, and thirty or forty wounds that penetrated his bone marrow from head to toe appeared at the same time, and blood arrows flew. The head of the guard - also the worst of the few - was burned into ashes by the strange green flames in his heart-wrenching howl, and there was not even a corner of the clothes left. The miserable monster echoed throughout the street for a long time.

Everyone present was shocked.

Even in Latovigna, such scenes are not seen every day.

In fact, this is the first time they have seen such a tragic situation.

The man stood there calmly. After finishing, he put his hands back into his pocket of his coat and turned around calmly, without even bothering to look at the dying child on the ground, as if he had just done something worthless. He walked away slowly in the dull eyes of everyone, and his back seemed as if he was as huge as a mountain, leaving behind a cold and boundless majesty.

This person is simply the God of Death!

Michael leaned against the wall of a bungalow across the street and watched it calmly as it happened. Until Victor von Doom walked back towards him slowly.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to save that little devil on a whim." Dum explained without waiting for him to speak, "It's just that I'm upset to those idiots."

While walking side by side with him on the streets of the town, Michael asked lightly: "Does you think of your childhood self?"

He knew that Dum was born in the gypsy family in Latovigna and lived a life of being chased by the baron's army since he was a child. If it weren't for the abominable soldiers, his mother wouldn't have been forced to use the power of the demons and ended up like this. If it weren't for these soldiers, his father wouldn't have to be frozen to death in the snow-capped mountains to protect him.

Dum snorted heavily: "I have never compared myself to anyone here. I am completely different from them. The people living here are numb, dull, and have no value in their lives. To me, it is almost like a noisy group of mosquitoes."

He turned his head and glanced at Michael.

"In fact, most humans are similar," he said. "I have been increasingly thinking that people like you and me will come from mortals, which must be a rare miracle in the world."

"We are all humans, Victor," Michael said lightly, "we go further and see more than others, but that doesn't change our nature."

"Maybe."

Dum obviously did not agree with this, but he did not continue to worry about this topic.

"What I did was not just revenge, it was a warning."

Dum said, leading the way forward for several turns and turning into an empty industrial area.

"This is a warning to my enemies, to let some idiot who hides in his castle all day to enjoy his life, knowing that his good days are coming to an end."

He walked through the alley and came outside a warehouse with a closed door. In front of the door were two large and thick locals, with strong muscles, holding semi-automatic rifles, looking like they were "very difficult to mess with".

Two gatekeepers stopped them.

"Is there anything wrong?" One of them asked, intentionally or unintentionally lifting the gun in his hand, as if it could increase his momentum.

"I have made an appointment," said Dumm coldly, "send a message to your boss and say that Dr. Von Dumm wants to see him."

The two looked at him for a while, put down their guns, and pointed inside with gestures.

"Come in." said one person, "The boss is waiting for you inside."
Chapter completed!