What Witch? This Alchemist is Breaking Bad!

Hearing Garcia’s words, Leon let out a soft laugh.

“So now you know to leave yourself a way out?”

Then he swept his gaze over Garcia’s men and suddenly added, “You’re really not going to shoot?”

Garcia’s subordinates were all stunned, not yet fully understanding what that sentence meant.

“Then I won’t hold back.” Leon nodded slightly, suddenly tightening his grip on the hand holding the badge, swung his fist, and smashed it straight into Garcia’s face.

“She’s only thirteen! You son of a bitch, you sick pervert!!” Leon roared each word out, launching a series of vicious hook punches at Garcia, each punch landing louder than the last.

One of Garcia’s hands was pinned to the table by a dagger, and his head was still being held at gunpoint—he had no way to fight back at all.

Seeing this, his subordinates shouted at Leon in threatening tones, telling him to stop, but Leon seemed to hear nothing.

He threw five consecutive punches, beating Garcia’s face into a bloody mess.

“Kh—!” The fists finally stopped, and Garcia at last got a chance to catch his breath.

He lay sprawled over the table, spat a mouthful of blood into his wine glass, then looked up and glared at Leon.

“You don’t think about the consequences at all, do you?”

“I’ll tell you what consequences are!”

Leon grabbed Garcia by the hair with a cold expression.

“I’ll soon know exactly who you are, and the entire Inquisition will soon know about your involvement with me. After that, if anything happens to Melissa, her mother, or their house, I’ll make sure you’re in serious trouble!

“And if anything happens to me, the Inquisition will come looking for you. Before you try to scare me, check whether your own ass is clean!!”

He knew very well that in the whole of Hamel Town, no underworld organization dared openly challenge the Security Office or the Inquisition—let alone a few people like these, who clearly weren’t very high-ranking.

The moment they chose to endure things here, Leon had already figured out their bottom line.

Garcia reassessed the crazed Inquisitor in front of him, gently shook his head, and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, “Is there really any need to put on such an act? Being able to pull out that much money means you’re no upright man either. You were eyeing that mother and daughter too, weren’t you?”

This money didn’t necessarily have to be gambling funds.

For an Inquisitor, this amount wasn’t actually that large—as long as he was willing to be corrupt.

Garcia was convinced Leon had to be the sort who abused his authority for personal gain, squeezing oil out of countless people, violent and ruthless to boot.

Though their identities differed, at heart they were the same kind of people.

He didn’t believe someone like that would suddenly act out of kindness.

Leon fell silent for a moment, then replied in the same low voice, “If you know, then stay the hell away from my prey.”

No matter how he explained, the other side wouldn’t believe him anyway, and it would be pointless.

Letting them believe he wasn’t someone to mess with was actually more intimidating.

With that, Leon grabbed the dagger and yanked it out.

Garcia let out a pained groan as he clutched his hand, while the men beside him hurriedly tore pieces of cloth from their clothes to bandage the wound.

“Now take the money—all of it, including the Silver Wolf coin for medical expenses—write up the receipt properly, and get the hell out of here. Until next quarter, I don’t want to see your stupid faces again!”

As Leon spoke, he picked up a large jug of alcohol and rinsed the blood off his hands and the dagger with beer.

“Did you understand?”

Garcia stared at him for a while, then finally nodded in silence.

This time, he didn’t dare reach out to take the money himself.

He signaled his subordinates to check the Gold Vouchers and then collect the money.

Another subordinate took out the receipt they carried from the Potter Pawnshop.

Garcia’s hand was still bleeding, but he took the pen his subordinate handed him anyway, gritted through the pain, signed the receipt, and finally pressed his bloodstained fingerprint onto it.

He was a registered debt collector under Potter.

Only a receipt signed and fingerprinted by him carried legal effect.

Leon took the receipt and examined it carefully.

After confirming there were no problems, he swept his gaze over Garcia and the others.

Garcia avoided his eyes, said nothing, stood up, and led his men out.

Leon called after him, “Don’t forget to pay for your own drinks!”

That Silver Wolf coin Leon had given him was meant as medical expenses from the start, not to buy them alcohol.

Garcia could only comply helplessly.

He took out a Silver Wolf coin, slapped it onto the table, and left the tavern without looking back, his subordinates following close behind.

After the conflict ended, the tavern remained eerily silent.

Everyone left behind looked at Leon with lingering fear, their gazes filled mostly with awe.

Melissa, who had been squatting on the floor clutching her head, finally dared to raise it.

She stared blankly at Leon’s back.

She had never seen such a ferocious, wild side of Leon before.

This was on a completely different level from when he had disciplined those two boys earlier—like an enraged male lion, ready at any moment to bite through someone’s throat.

At that moment, Leon put away his gun, turned around, and reached out a hand to her.

“It’s okay now, Melissa. Shall we go home?”

The lion seemed to shed its beastly hide in an instant, turning back into the gentle Brother Leon she knew so well.

“Mm…” Melissa responded softly and took Leon’s hand as she stood up.

“Where’s the owner?” Leon suddenly turned his head and called out.

For a brief moment, no one answered.

Leon raised his voice and repeated, “Where’s the owner?!”

Only then did the tavern owner, Frank, come over trembling.

He bowed carefully to Leon and asked, “Sir, what are your instructions?”

“Settle all of Melissa’s wages. She won’t be working here anymore,” Leon said calmly.

“Yes, yes, yes!” The owner replied hurriedly, taking out a Thaler Silver Coin from his person and presenting it to Leon with both hands.

“Is this the right amount?” Leon asked Melissa.

“It should really only be fifty Fenni…” Melissa said quietly.

“Well, you stayed so late and even had to drink with customers. This is only right!” the owner said, forcing a smile.

“Fine.” Leon took the silver coin directly and glanced at the owner.

“Even though I know you probably couldn’t do much anyway, but…”

He suddenly raised his hand and clenched his fist, looking as though he was about to smash it into the owner’s face.

“Eek!” The owner shrieked, covering his face and retreating, waving his hands frantically.

“Don’t, don’t! Let’s talk this out! Let’s talk this out!!”

In the end, Leon didn’t throw the punch.

He lowered his hand and left behind only a cold sentence: “Count yourself lucky nothing happened to Melissa.”

With that, he stuffed the silver coin into Melissa’s hand and led her toward the door.

Before going out, he cautiously looked around first.

Only after confirming there was no ambush on the street did he take Melissa onto a hired carriage.

The carriage set off, the cabin swaying gently.

Only then did Leon fully calm down and realize that his earlier actions had indeed been somewhat impulsive.

Although the final result was safe and sound, there had been a moment when he hadn’t been sure he could control the situation.

If even one hot-headed youth on the other side had snapped and fired a shot, he really would have died there.

If a gunfight had broken out, Melissa would have had little chance of surviving either.

But at that moment, there had been a voice in his heart, screaming incessantly at him not to bow his head to those people—and not to fear them!

The present him had long since touched upon even more forbidden matters and tasted the thrill of high risk and high reward.

Even though he could now reflect on his impulsiveness, that intoxicating sense of victory still lingered in his heart, refusing to fade.

At that point, Melissa, who had been hesitating to speak the whole time, finally opened her mouth.

“Brother Leon, that money of yours was…”

Leon snapped back to reality, realizing that pulling out such a large sum of money really did require an explanation.

Fortunately, his mind worked fast.

“Ah, that. It was actually entrusted to me by Bishop Leona. There’s a total of fifty thousand Fenni. She saw all the hardship you’ve endured and told me to use this money to help you out more.”

He could just have Rena coordinate the story with him later.

“The bishop’s money?” Melissa twisted the hem of her skirt awkwardly.

“We’ve already received such great kindness from her. How can we still use her money? This money…”

Even if they wanted to repay it, their family truly had no way to come up with such a sum.

“She knew you wouldn’t agree, which is why she left it with me. She asked me to tell you that for her, doing good is also a form of cultivation. This is her heartfelt intention—rejecting it would only make her sad,” Leon said.

The carriage soon reached the entrance to their alley.

Leon helped Melissa down and paid the fare.

Holding Melissa’s hand, he hurried toward home while carefully keeping watch of their surroundings.

The chance of those people coming back for revenge was low—but not nonexistent.

“Sorry for quitting your part-time job for you without asking. But that place was really too dangerous. You have no idea how worried your mother was. I was too…” Leon said softly as he walked ahead.

“Mm…” Melissa responded through a sob, sniffing.

“Melissa?” Hearing the tremor in her voice, Leon instinctively stopped and turned around.

Melissa’s shoulders shook as she began to sob uncontrollably.

In the tavern, she had forced all that fear and grievance down into her heart.

Now, feeling truly safe and relaxed, it finally burst forth like a delayed flood.

“Waaahhh!!”

Melissa cried out loud.

Leon was just about to comfort her when she suddenly threw herself hard into his arms, clinging to him tightly, burying her face in his chest as she continued to cry.

Leon was completely caught off guard.

Melissa wasn’t just emotionally breaking down—she had also been drinking.

She hugged him so tightly that it almost made it hard for him to breathe.

How could this little girl have so much strength?

“It’s okay, it’s okay, everything’s fine now!” He could only pat her back gently and soothe her, waiting for her emotions to settle.

As Melissa cried, countless memories churned through her mind:

Brother Leon visiting their home to look at the house for the first time, Brother Leon carrying her mother on his back to see the doctor, Brother Leon helping her deal with those two boys who bullied her, and in the tavern, when she had fallen into utter despair, Leon grabbing her hand in time…

Somehow, amid all those memories of Leon, she suddenly recalled a scene from her childhood—lying in bed, listening to her mother tell her stories.

“Mom, the princess has been taken away. Will someone come save her?”

“Yes. Her prince will definitely come to save her.”