In unarmed combat, having greater numbers is an undeniable advantage.
However, if a group of ordinary people is up against someone who can lift a person off the ground with one hand,
who can kick casually without building up strength, knocking them off balance effortlessly... you can’t really talk about a ’numerical advantage’ without dozens or hundreds of people.
These people don’t have longswords, at most they have daggers or wooden sticks.
Lann quickly knocked down several guys with daggers.
Given their strength and the limited space of the alley, even their sticks hitting his armor couldn’t make him flinch.
Only the stick aiming at his head gave him a moment of distraction.
Lann’s large hand completely enveloped the leader of the group’s fist, just slightly pressing downwards, forcing him to kneel and howl in pain under the extreme joint pressure.
A whistling sound came from behind.
Lann didn’t bother to look back, casually reaching out to catch the end of a striking stick.
With a twist of his palm, the stick was pulled out from the holder’s grasp, along with some skin.
With a light flick from below, the attacker behind him widened his eyes and slowly knelt down, clutching his lower body.
Finally curling on the ground like a lobster, writhing in pain.
"Hey Lann, I just heard an egg cracking noise!"
Alia gasped, shouting to Lann from the alley exit.
Lann didn’t even turn his head as he admonished her.
"Little girls shouldn’t repeat everything they hear!"
After saying that, the Demon Hunter glanced apologetically at the kneeling gang leader.
"Buddy, look at the situation: there’s a kid here, and I really don’t want to make it ugly for her. Just consider it a favor to yourself. You know you’re not that tough, otherwise you wouldn’t be a thug, right? Just tell me everything, let’s keep it simple."
The kneeling thug’s eyes were bloodshot with fury and pain.
But before he could curse, Lann picked out his little finger and bent it upwards.
The sound of a finger joint breaking was crisp and clear.
A thug leader, no matter how fierce he is, could he be fiercer than a demon or water ghost?
In Lann’s eyes, their threat level was less than a fish bone in a soup bowl.
The man, who had been so defiant, hastily uttered a name under Lann’s calm gaze intent on fixing him like a toy.
And as Lann slightly loosened his grip, he blurted out words rapidly, fearing a delay would break another finger.
"Sir Shuofu! Recently knighted by King Robert! He was a former attendant to the former Prime Minister! Now he has somehow acquired a large sum of money; he is obsessed with his knight status. To show off, he’d surely pay a great price for the good sword on your back!"
Lann nodded slightly, indicating the gang leader did well.
"A guy driven mad by desire for honor and status, not uncommon. But earlier you mentioned he collected various oddities? What are they, and why?"
"That interest began after the former Prime Minister died; rumored to be cursed lizard skins, dragonbone ornaments... I reckon he doesn’t like those weird items, but hopes to use them against some curse? Seems he’s spooked by the former Prime Minister’s death."
The word ’dragonbone’ piqued Lann’s interest, the rest rather unremarkable.
In the Magic World, there was rampant fear of magic without reason, with endless "magic-defying" folk remedies.
But in this world, Lann hadn’t seen true magic yet; he felt magic might be rarer here than in the Magic World.
Could a newly knighted man be someone worth cursing... the chances are too slim to contemplate.
Contrary to public beliefs about wizards, true wizards need time, effort, and resources to cast magic.
Unlikely they’d expend great efforts just for wicked rumors or evil nature linked to a strong spell... wouldn’t be worth it.
"Last question... you know where he lives, right?"
Lann asked, his expression very kind.
The big and the small walked out from the alley, standing under the sun.
Lann was fastening the sword straps on his chest again, while Alia wasn’t as excited as she had been watching the show earlier.
The young girl now frowned, her eyes flashing with thoughts and anxiety.
"This is strange, right, Lann?"
"Ha, seems you’re really tense."
Lann glanced at Alia’s serious face.
"The former Prime Minister died suddenly, the attendant was knighted by the king, understandable as the king’s nostalgia. But a large sum of money? Not given to the former Prime Minister’s orphans, but to an attendant? Is that possible?"
"Something’s wrong! Lann! The former Prime Minister’s death wasn’t normal!"
Alia wasn’t the carefree girl whose biggest wish was learning swordsmanship anymore.
She had followed Lann, facing cannibal tribes, slave traders, monsters in an alien world, involved in upheavals enough to overturn the kingdom’s political landscape.
Her experiences were beyond belief even if penned in novels for ordinary citizens.
Experience offers growth.
Even as the gang leader spoke, young Alia under ten had sensed something amiss.
"Did Edd and the former Prime Minister have a good relationship?"
He wasn’t a local, and even locals might struggle to understand noble relations.
"Dad and the king were fostered under the former Prime Minister; they are his godsons, godbrothers with each other."
Lann’s fine brows rose slightly.
That’s quite close indeed.
From what Lann knows about Edd Stark after some days, such a traditionally knightly man would thoroughly investigate his godfather’s death.
But the problem is, the Prime Minister cultivated here for years, was taken out for some reason.
Then a newly appointed Prime Minister adamantly investigates... shouldn’t he just die too?
Simultaneously, Alia and Lann exchanged looks.
Different was the young girl’s gray eyes flashing confusion and fear, while the cat’s amber eyes displayed calm.
"Tch, I thought your dad just had a tough new position, but turns out... your family’s troubles are non-stop too, Alia."
Lann leaned closer to Alia’s face, squinted mischievously, poking her forehead.
"Alright then... now you must give me all the Stark family treasures to thank me!"
Facing the shameless Demon Hunter demanding rewards before starting work.
The panic in the young girl’s eyes suddenly faded like morning mist under the sun.
It vanished without a trace.