Lorenzo's steps suddenly came to a halt.

This whistle, he knew it all too well. That was why his expression at this moment resembled someone who had just stepped in something filthy on the road—extremely unpleasant.

Only those dreadful creatures called the Hyenas would use such an ear-piercing whistle to convey messages.

Which meant...

In the dim alley, steady footsteps suddenly approached.

A man, dressed in an immaculate suit as though heading to an elegant banquet, emerged slowly from the shadows.

"Mr. Lorenzo, why rush through this long night? Why not sit down for a little chat?"

The man wore a top hat and carried a golden-handled cane. His attire was impeccable, and his voice carried a tone of refined elegance, as though he were some noble aristocrat of great stature.

But the moment his golden teeth flashed as he spoke, that veneer of elegance shattered completely. The old face illuminated by the moonlight revealed a greed and madness that was distinctively hyena-like.

Behind him, burly men silently emerged from the shadows. In their hands were bloodied knives, spears, and clubs. Their rebellious and fierce eyes, paired with mocking smiles, fixed on Lorenzo as if they were gazing at a clown.

This was a band of thugs.

And in the entire Lower City District, only one group of thugs dared to bare their teeth at Lorenzo.

"The Hyena Gang? Schulz?"

Lorenzo's forehead veins pulsed visibly as he stared at the mob in front of him. This same mob had burned countless shops and buried numerous victims in the riverbanks, all in the pursuit of protection money.

"What are you doing here?"

"My, my, what an odd question from Mr. Lorenzo!" Schulz laughed exaggeratedly, gripping his cane tightly. "Is there a single street in this entire Lower City District that’s had its name written, declaring it private property of some individual?"

"Taking a stroll, you see." Schulz smirked. "The night is long, sleep eludes me, so I thought I'd stretch my legs and get some exercise."

"A stroll? What a coincidence, indeed."

A cold glint flickered in Lorenzo's eyes. Among the prominent gangs of Lower City District, these men were far more troublesome than the stray dogs tailing him now!

But now that things had come to this, he calmed himself instead.

"So, what do you want? The Red Flame Gang and your Hyena Gang have always stayed out of each other's way."

"Of course. I've always thought the Hyenas and the Red Flame Gang were great friends. But since we’re friends..."

Schulz’s greedy eyes fixated on the ornate metallic container covered in runes in Lorenzo's hand.

"When a friend has something good, isn't it proper to share?"

So it’s the Ancient Dragon's Heart Blood they’re after?

But how did he know!?

Lorenzo's expression darkened further, and he subconsciously tried to conceal the metallic container behind him.

The Ancient Dragon's Heart Blood, a substance brimming with violent energy, required a vessel of the highest caliber to contain it. Such vessels were far more valuable than ten measly drops of the heart blood—so much so that only high-ranking nobles could afford them.

Which was why Lorenzo could only hold it in his hand. But holding it meant he had to face these glaring, naked desires head-on.

"Schulz, you better think twice. The Red Flame Gang isn't some pushover you can toy with as you please!"

Behind Lorenzo, his men unsheathed their weapons with a chilling metallic ring. Their resolve gleamed coldly in the moonlight. Though they were fewer in number than the Hyena Gang’s thugs, each was a well selected elite under Lorenzo’s command. They had no fear of bullies who relied solely on ferocity and recklessness.

"Or are you suggesting," Lorenzo barked, his gaze fierce and unyielding as a bloodthirsty beast, "that you're ready to settle this with your life?"

He knew full well that compared to the Hyena Gang's ruthless but straightforward thugs, their leader, Schulz, was a schemer exuding nothing but treachery and cunning. This man, greedy though he was, valued his own life dearly and would never act without assurance of success.

"Looks like there’s some misunderstanding, Mr. Lorenzo."

As expected, faced with Lorenzo’s desperate intensity, the transparent greed in Schulz’s eyes quickly diminished. His smile returned.

"You see, I’m not a man who adores violence. I prefer making business deals."

"A deal?"

"Five drops," Schulz said, raising one hand with a leering smile, "I'll buy five drops of Ancient Dragon’s Heart Blood from you."

"At market price, of course: five million per drop. Twenty-five million in total. What do you say?"

From behind him, muscular henchmen stepped forward, each carrying several sacks. Loosening a sack’s cord, they revealed the dark green stacks of large-denomination bills within.

Schulz had come prepared. Or rather, he had no intention from the start of putting himself at risk. Instead, he presented an offer that Lorenzo might grudgingly accept.

He wanted to force Lorenzo into this deal. After all, Schulz desperately needed the Ancient Dragon’s Heart Blood, and a little money was of no concern to him.

"Twenty-five million?"

But contrary to Schulz’s expectations, Lorenzo didn’t appear to start weighing the offer. Instead, his expression grew uglier, his teeth audibly grinding.

"Just twenty-five million to buy five drops from me? Do you take me for a child you can trick!?"

"Hm? Isn’t that the market price?" Schulz furrowed his eyebrows. Although such a scarce item might reasonably have some markup due to supply-and-demand dynamics, it shouldn't be unreasonable enough to provoke this outrage from Lorenzo.

As Schulz contemplated, one of his men whispered something into his ear.

Suddenly, Schulz’s face contorted into an odd expression. One hand formed a fist, pressed against his lips as if stifling laughter.

"Well now... Mr. Lorenzo, the fact you got ripped off for fifty million has nothing to do with me!"

"Cut the chatter! If you really intend to buy, you better offer fifty million, or I won’t even consider it!"

Lorenzo’s face flushed a deep red, but his gaze remained cold and fierce. Completing the job required only five drops, which could grudgingly be spared. However, there would be no negotiation over that price.

He wouldn’t allow himself to become the laughingstock of the Lower City District—the guy everyone would label as the biggest sucker in town!

If he had to suffer personal losses, he’d make sure Schulz didn’t get away with scot-free gains.

"Impossible. That’s a price I can’t agree to!"

Schulz’s smile froze, his icy gaze locking onto Lorenzo. "I only brought twenty-five million."

"Then we’ve got nothing to talk about!"

The tension between the two men thickened, like a spreading frost that froze the cramped alley solid.

On both sides, Red Flame’s elite fighters and the Hyena gang’s vicious henchmen tightened their grips on their weapons, the promise of bloodshed hanging palpably in the air.

"How odd," came a shrill voice, breaking the icy silence and sending a chill through everyone present.

"If so, ten drops don’t seem like enough to divide."

At the sharp, grating tone, everyone froze instinctively, as though sensing their doom. The distinct twang of strained bowstrings accompanied the eerie voice, akin to some monstrous claws raking steel, setting their nerves ablaze.

All at once, Lorenzo, Schulz, and their men turned toward where the voice had come from.

On the alley rooftops, a short, goblin-like figure slowly stepped from the dark.