In the Black Alley of Zaun's Entresol Level, the night scene was a blur of neon lights and bustling activity.
Self-important jerks on the street were reeking of alcohol, cursing at each other, and occasionally swinging broken wooden planks in confrontation and brawling.
The cutting board in the snack stall clanged loudly from heavy cleaver chops. Half-cooked green fat worms mixed with colorful sauces were dumped into ceramic bowls, and diners chewed heartily, occasionally slurping their fingers as if it were the sweetest nectar on earth.
Street vendors sold shallow green salamanders lurking in cages, occasionally baring their disproportionate, bloodshot fangs. On the forging platform, molten red-hot iron oozed, and the barbaric sounds of hammering rose and fell.
In the corners of Black Alley, household waste from Upper City piled up, and the putrid stench of decay lingered.
The Mikawa Drug Tavern was divided into three levels: the basement, the first floor, and the second floor.
The basement was built underwater, serving as both a laboratory and Silco's usual place of recreation.
Fish monsters, about seven or eight meters in size, swam leisurely, occasionally traversed by a giant sea snake dozens of meters long. Azure lake light streamed in through the circular windows of the room, and vibrant, lush green plants clung to the entire laboratory.
A metal cabinet was filled with various biological specimens, and next to it were experimental equipment and bottles and jars containing liquids of various colors. Standing in front of this experimental equipment was Singed, wearing a white lab coat and with a slightly receding hairline.
Pat-pat-pat!
As a light footsteps sounded, Singed, without turning his head, calmly asked, "Have they brought him back?"
From the shadows emerged a young man in a black and white vest resembling a suit. He wore a red shirt underneath, and his hair was meticulously slicked back, giving him a fastidious appearance.
Although his complexion was pale, his features were sharp.
Of course, what was most striking was his left eye, which was completely different from a normal person's. There was an incredibly horrifying dark red scar on his left eye, and his eyeball was covered by a chilling orange-black, reflecting a cold gaze, like an emotionless machine.
His entire body exuded a mysterious and dangerous aura, like a venomous snake hidden in the darkness.
"Not yet."
A magnetic and uniquely deep voice responded.
Silco casually sat on a chair, crossing his legs. He took a metal syringe from his pocket, shook the purple liquid inside evenly, and then unhurriedly said, "But what you want, when have I not gotten it?"
As he spoke, Silco aimed the syringe in his hand at his left eye and decisively pressed the plunger. The sharp needle plunged directly into his pupil, slowly injecting a tube of unknown purple liquid into his orange-red eye.
Glimmer Potion was injected, healing his wound and stimulating the already damaged nerves in Silco's left eye.
"Ah…" Silco slumped in the chair, eyes tightly shut, breathing in pain. Mikawa Drug mixed with tears slowly flowed from the corner of his eye. Every time Glimmer Potion was injected into his artificial eye, it was an unspeakable torment for Silco.
Then he lowered the hand holding the metal syringe and changed the subject: "Speaking of which… is the Darkin very strong?"
"Strong? Haha."
Singed walked to the glass enclosure, looking at the large fish monsters swimming leisurely, and let out two dry laughs. His voice hoarsely said, "You can understand the Darkin as the embodiment of gods."
"Gods?"
Silco's expression was noncommittal; he simply tapped the table with his finger, making a "thump-thump-thump" sound that echoed continuously in the empty laboratory.
Perhaps, for him, the word "gods" was too distant and ethereal.
After a long while, Silco finally spoke again in his unique deep voice, asking, "Then, from the current situation, is this Darkin in Piltover?"
Singed turned around, picked up a tube of purplish-red liquid from the experimental equipment, and said in a hoarse voice, "Yes! That kid risked escaping to Piltover, so he must have some reliance there. That means the Darkin might be in Piltover. You need to be prepared. If the three people you sent don't return, there are only two possibilities: either the Darkin took action personally, or the Darkin scion himself dealt with them. If it's the former, it means this Darkin scion is very much favored by his master. If it's the latter, then it means this Darkin scion himself is not to be underestimated, and his master will be even stronger than I expected. But no matter which it is, it's a result we don't want to see. We are very likely to incur the wrath of a Darkin."
"…Tsk! Don't worry, I will resolve everything. Even if it's a Darkin." Silco's voice was unwavering, giving off a strong sense of confidence.
After speaking, Silco stood up, preparing to leave. Just as he was about to depart, he paused. His thin face was completely obscured by the shadows, only his left eye emitted a striking orange-red glow.
"My capabilities are not limited to Zaun."
…
"Piltover citizens still on the streets are urged to return home as soon as possible. Curfew has begun. Citizens are advised to return home in groups and avoid small alleys!"
A massive airship above broadcasted the message repeatedly. Dazzling incandescent lights mercilessly swept across every district of Piltover, driving away every citizen attempting to linger on the streets.
"If you are lost, please find a street patrolled by Enforcers as soon as possible. Enforcers will safely escort citizens home. Do not linger outside!"
Meanwhile, in a quiet, secluded small park in the Harbor District.
Crackling!
Flickering flames quietly burned in the park, with wisps of black smoke continuously rising. The high temperature scorched the park's grass yellow, and some areas even began to catch fire.
The summer night breeze rustled Durin's Mage Apprentice Robe. He looked indifferently at the woman, Daisy, who was lying limply on the ground.
The ox-ear pointed dagger had been kicked away by Durin, rolling to the side.
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