CHAPTER 498: CHAPTER 496: USING HIS OWN WAY TO RETALIATE AGAINST HIM_1

Mexico is too far from Paradise, too close to the United States.

Beneath this jesting phrase lay a bloody truth.

’Flour,’ public safety, corruption, foreign-invested super-factories, ubiquitous extraterritorial privileges.

To be honest and upright in this country meant resigning oneself to enslavement, with no hope of ever getting ahead until death.

When night fell, the streets of Mexico City exuded a unique atmosphere. The neon lights began to flicker, painting every corner with dazzling colors, masking the slums.

Amherst was a notorious godfather in Mexico. His Taro Group had risen to fame both domestically and internationally.

Just how powerful was the Taro Group?

It could mobilize an armed force of over a thousand men at any time in any Latin American country outside of Mexico. It should be noted that in Latin America, given the dynamics at play, a formidable armed force of a thousand men could rival the regular armies of certain countries. Internally, it was even more significant: the Taro Group commanded over one hundred thousand troops, all equipped with American weaponry. Even Mexico’s regular army seemed inconsequential in the face of the Taro Group’s firepower.

Therefore, Amherst had always been puzzled.

"Why would you challenge me?"

Amherst exhaled a puff from his Cuban cigar. Its smoke carried a faint, pleasant aroma, evoking a drunken sensation akin to drinking wine.

He was forty-six this year. Stories among Mexico City residents depicted him with an appearance so fearsome it could stop children from crying. But in reality, he wasn’t at all ferocious-looking. He was slightly overweight with curly hair. If dropped into any European or American country, he’d look like any other middle-aged man who had put on a few pounds.

Suspended before him was a man, covered in blood, riddled with various wounds, though none were immediately fatal.

Amherst wasn’t the type to relish torture; for most people, he simply had them riddled with bullets from a submachine gun. However, for a select few, Amherst felt compelled to resort to such cruel methods of torment. These were the individuals who dared to propose something utterly subversive in this country: banning the trafficking of ’flour.’

Whether they were candidates for office, mayors, ministers, or generals, if they dared make such a suggestion, even the president had to face their wrath. Amherst had not shied away from confronting them head-on, never once falling into a disadvantage throughout the protracted war. He had even forced the president to personally sign a conciliation order, stating that other cases would be prioritized, and theirs would be ignored.

Amherst thought he had won.

But reality always liked to play jokes on him. Even now, people still dared to make such ludicrous suggestions.

"What on earth were you thinking?"

Amherst took another drag, exhaled, and said to the man on the brink of death, "Nied, do you regret it now?"

"Amherst, I only regret trusting the people around me!" Nied’s body was covered in scars, yet his eyes, still retaining their light, revealed a warrior’s indomitable spirit.

The man Nied stared at stood behind Amherst. His face, devoid of any embarrassment, calmly stated, "You deserve this for trying to go against Mr. Amherst."

"See? Your brother-in-law is so sensible."

Amherst glanced back and snapped his fingers. From outside the villa’s gates, a group of people was dragged by his underlings to the sofas in the living room. Blood mixed with brain matter and dirt covered their bodies, almost completely obscuring their original appearances. Only their physical contours hinted at their respective genders.

"A family of fifteen. They could have lived well, but because of your reckless suggestion, they’ve been reduced to this."

Amherst rose, walked over to a vaguely familiar woman, and shook his head. "I can hardly recognize her. Your beautiful, fair-skinned wife, the teacher. It seems my men thoroughly ’cherished’ her. The same goes for your obedient six-year-old daughter, your five-year-old child, and even your seventy-year-old mother. Tsk, tsk."

Amherst beckoned, and an underling immediately handed him an axe. He waved it away, his eyes indicating the man who had betrayed Nied. The man hastily offered the axe, showing no remorse for his parents, sister, or niece lying on the ground.

He only wanted to live.

A smile touched Amherst’s lips. He liked such men but would ensure this one wouldn’t live to see tomorrow. How could a man who cared little for his own family, siblings, and relatives ever be loyal to him? However, he wouldn’t kill this man before Nied perished.

"Nied, just admit your mistakes and kneel to beg for mercy, and I’ll spare your family. Otherwise, every minute that passes, I’ll chop off someone’s head and kick it around like a ball."

Amherst laid out his final rule. He’d been toying with them for two days straight and was growing bored. Among those he’d tortured, Nied’s will was indeed strong; he still hadn’t broken down, crying and begging for mercy, even now.

But that didn’t mean Amherst admired such people. He despised stubborn men like Nied, and even more, he detested those who kept appearing, no matter how many he killed. Every so often, someone would pop up, clamoring about ’the good of the country.’ Matters the president himself ignored—what right did these nobodies have to be concerned?

Amherst loathed those who didn’t know their place.

Nied pursed his lips, uttering no pleas. He knew well that at this point, the other party would never let his family leave here alive. The so-called pleas for mercy were just the other party’s way of stripping him of his dignity before cruelly slaughtering him and dumping his body at City Hall. From the moment his plan to conspire with the mayor was exposed, everything was already over.

Seeing Nied remain silent, Amherst shook his head, raised the axe, and swung it fiercely at his wife’s neck.

In that instant, shadows on the ground suddenly sprang up. Before Amherst’s astonished eyes, the woman in front of him vanished. Even Nied, still hanging, was swept away by the dark tendrils.

He froze, axe mid-swing, then turned to his subordinates. Dazedly, he asked, "What just happened?"

"It... it seemed like a patch of darkness swept them away."

"Different World?!" Amherst gasped, his mind racing to the recent global buzz about such phenomena. He hurriedly shouted, "Quick! Gather everyone! Bring your weapons and assemble here!"

Gathering his men wasn’t about starting a war; he simply believed his safety could only be assured under heavy protection.

As he tried to step outside, a Shadow Soldier materialized from the darkness, swiftly grabbed Amherst, and pulled him under. His underlings didn’t intervene. They too were being seized by Shadow Soldiers.

「...」

Nied landed on the ground but didn’t fall, supported by shadowy, tentacle-like appendages. He surveyed the dimly lit, grand hall before him.

Atop a nine-tiered dais, a figure with an obscured face wore a Crown, darkness swirling around him like flowing water. The figure slowly descended, his crimson eyes fixed on Nied, shining brightly in the gloom.

Nied was no stranger to rumors of Different Worlds and Monsters. Seeing this surreal environment, he instantly realized the figure before him was connected to such a realm.

"Who are you? Where is my family?"

"People tend to call me the Emperor of the Shadow Clan."

Aozawa stepped forward. Looking at the man before him—scarred yet with bright, resolute eyes—he asked, "Are you interested in becoming the President of Mexico?"

"If you’re looking to install a puppet, then I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. I will not surrender my country to you." Nied shook his head.

He had always harbored a dream: a Mexico free from ’flour,’ corruption, and instability—a nation with public safety. As a child, Nied had witnessed too much of his country’s darkness, the enslaved populace. A question often arose in his young mind: Is this normal? Honest, hardworking people were ridiculed, while smugglers and traffickers paraded their shame with pride. Something was fundamentally wrong with this country, and he yearned to change it. Even if he lacked the power to bring about change, he would never choose to become one of them. He would not yield to Amherst and his ilk, nor to the United States, nor even to this Emperor from a Different World.

"Haha." Aozawa chuckled softly. Darkness enveloped Nied’s body. Just as Nied thought he was about to die, the debilitating weakness in his body suddenly vanished.

Using his Marvelous Resurgence Ability, Aozawa extracted all of Nied’s injuries, instantly restoring him to perfect health.

"Excellent. You are precisely the kind of person I need." Aozawa’s tone suggested he had been searching for someone like Nied for a long time. In reality, he had made the decision impulsively while tracking down the leaders of those groups. He admired such resolute individuals and didn’t hesitate to offer a helping hand. Making Nied president was something Aozawa could achieve with a mere thought.

"I only require you to take control of this country and govern it well. I will not interfere in other matters."

"What exactly is your objective?" Nied was taken aback. He never believed in free lunches.

Aozawa smiled. "I admire your courage. That is all. I will have you sent to the Presidential Mansion. Explain the situation to the current president, and have the military leaders gather there. Leave the members of those groups to me. They will not see tomorrow’s sun rise over Mexico. Do not worry about your family; I will heal them."

"You—" Nied still wanted to ask more, but with a mere thought from Aozawa, a Shadow Soldier seized him and whisked him away.

The next second, a black, cocoon-like object descended from the dome above. It cracked open, and a portly, middle-aged man tumbled out.

Amherst landed hard, looked around at the dim surroundings, and yelled, "I am Taro!"

Aozawa ignored his blustering. He simply transferred the injuries he had drawn from Nied onto Amherst.

"AAARGH!" Amherst shrieked in agony. Blood gushed from all over his body. His fingers felt as if they were being individually shattered by a hammer, his nails ripped out, his genitals crushed by red-hot pliers. This onslaught of pain made him weep and scream, writhing on the ground like a maggot.

Aozawa brought Nied’s family down, preparing to return their injuries to Amherst’s remaining underlings.