Leveling Up by Defiling Milfs

Every assassin eventually crossed paths with the Knife Guild. There were only a handful of guilds in the kingdom that trained and employed assassins, making the Knife Guild one of the most influential among them.

Although the assassins Klaus had killed belonged to different guilds, they had all been murdered by the same man.

That meant every assassin guild was now in danger.

Crand soon returned with several towels in his hands and handed one to Daniel and another to Sherlon.

”Crand, inform the others. Raise a bounty on this man and spread the news across all the guilds,” Valmond ordered, placing his palm firmly on the table.

”How much, Boss?” Crand asked.

”Three hundred thousand gold coins,” Valmond replied, his tone cold and decisive.

Daniel’s eyes widened slightly at the staggering amount.

Beside him, Sherlon wore a confident grin.

Once a bounty was issued across multiple guilds, the target would be hunted relentlessly. Day or night, doesn’t matter, there would be no place to hide.

The only objective was to bring back the target’s head.

Dead or alive, preferably dead.

”Sherlon, would you mind leaving us alone? I need to speak with this young man for a moment,” Valmond said, turning his gaze toward him.

Without hesitation, Sherlon and Crand left the room.

*Thud*

...

Silence settled over the room the moment the door closed behind them.

”What’s your name, young man?” Valmond asked, his tone calm.

Before Daniel could answer, Valmond spoke again.

”Daniel, right?”

Daniel’s eyes narrowed slightly upon hearing his name.

”Yes,” he replied in a flat tone.

Valmond turned and settled back into his chair, his gaze never leaving Daniel. He rested one hand on the table and studied Daniel for a moment.

”Do you have a family? A mother, father, brother, sister?”

”I do,” Daniel replied.

”Does Klaus know you?”

”I don’t know,” Daniel answered cautiously.

Valmond leaned closer, lowering his voice.

”Remember this. A man like him won’t always come for you directly. He’ll make sure you know he’s coming. And if he gets his hands on you, or your parents — you won’t see them alive again.”

Daniel’s expression hardened.

”So... You’re telling me that if Klaus knows who I am, he’ll go after my parents? How do you know that?”

”Because he was once a member of this guild,” Valmond replied, his tone grim.

...

*Thud*

”What did he say to you?” Sherlon asked, his expression sharpening with curiosity.

”He just wanted me to be careful. Nothing else,” Daniel lied, before he turned toward the exit. ”Well, I’ll see you later.”

Daniel stepped outside into the relentless rain. Water immediately soaked through his clothes, running down his face and dripping from his hair.

Sherlon followed him to the doorway.

”It’s raining heavily. The wagons aren’t—”

Daniel ignored him.

He stepped into the downpour, but just before the door swung shut behind him, he abruptly turned around.

His fingers brushed against Sherlon’s shadow.

”Jump,” said Daniel.

The darkness beneath Sherlon’s feet suddenly rippled.

*Whoosh!*

Daniel’s entire body was yanked backward as if an invisible force had seized him.

In the blink of an eye, he vanished into the shadow.

Let’s see where you go, Sherlon.

...

Ten minutes passed.

Rain hammered against the guild house windows, the constant drumming filling the room.

Sherlon sat near one of them with several other assassins, apparently waiting for the storm to weaken. Lamps flickered overhead, casting restless shadows across the walls.

Hidden within the darkness beneath the table, Daniel watched silently.

Valmond’s final instruction echoed in his mind.

Keep an eye on Sherlon.

”Haha... maybe you and I should team up and take this man’s head. What do you say?” Sherlon asked one of the assassins beside him.

The man took another drink of beer.

”I have no interest in joining anyone—”

”I know what you’re thinking,” Sherlon interrupted. ”But I don’t want the money. I just want to see him dead.”

His smile faded.

”It’s personal.”

The assassin paused, lowering his mug. ”No money?”

Sherlon slowly shook his head.

...

Minutes later, whatever Sherlon whispered was enough to convince the assassin.

When the rain finally weakened to a steady drizzle, the two slipped out of the guild house and disappeared into the wet streets.

Daniel followed.

They eventually entered a nearby tavern, where the smell of roasted meat, smoke, and spilled ale filled the air.

Beer after beer disappeared from their mugs.

Their voices grew louder.

Their laughter became sloppier.

The assassin’s face reddened as the alcohol took hold, while Sherlon remained noticeably more composed.

Daniel watched from the darkness.

Something about this felt wrong.

Eventually, Sherlon rose from his seat and slipped an arm around the man’s shoulder.

”Come on. You’ve had enough.”

The drunken assassin laughed and leaned heavily against him.

To anyone watching, it looked like an old friend helping a drunken companion back to the inn.

But Daniel’s eyes remained fixed on Sherlon.

’He’s pretending,’ Daniel thought.

The two disappeared through the tavern’s rear corridor and entered the attached inn.

The moment the door closed behind them—

*THUD!*

Sherlon abruptly released the man.

The assassin crashed face-first onto the wooden floor, his nose broke against the boards. Blood immediately spilled across the floor.

*CRACK!*

”Agh...! Ouch.”

The man’s vision swam beneath the haze of alcohol. He struggled to push himself up, but his arms trembled beneath him.

Just then, two figures suddenly emerged from the shadows. Both wore black robes, their hoods pulled low over their faces.

One raised a thick wooden club.

*BAM!*

The weapon slammed into the back of the assassin’s skull.

His body went limp instantly.

”Stop. He’s dead,” Sherlon said, raising one hand.

The two figures froze.

One grabbed the dead man’s legs while the other seized his arms.

*Scrape... scrape...*

They dragged the body across the wooden floor and disappeared through another doorway. Meanwhile, a third figure crouched down and began wiping away the blood.

”How many have we gathered so far?” Sherlon asked, his gaze remained fixed on the cloth slowly turning red.

”Eighty-one left to go.”

The voice belonged to a woman, her voice soft, warm, almost sweet.