This Overlord Doesn't Care About Anything

Book 5: Chapter 38: Living As Someone At The Lowest Rung In Society



There’s a small river inside West-Resisting City.

There’s a bridge over this river.

Underneath this bridge live many tramps.

But along with the arrival of winter, the majority of the homeless people already aren’t willing to live under this bridge. The bridge spans east to west and connects the north and south. In the winter, it will undoubtedly become the place with the lowest temperature. Those who choose to stay under the bridge will immediately feel the northern wind piercing through their thin clothes, so this place has long since been emptied out.

But when I passed by today, I discovered an unexpectedly rare liveliness.

I put my hands into my pockets and sneakily walked over. When I arrived in the vicinity, I found three men surrounding someone lying on the ground. One of the men said to the mohawk guy:

“Boss, could this person……”

Before henchmen number one finished his words, henchmen number two interrupted:

“It’s really cold out here now, after all. If this person’s really fallen ill, then their life will be in danger.”

With a frightening face, the mohawk boss walked over and gave the fellow on the ground a kick as he fiercely said:

“Oi! Are ya dead! If yer not dead, then git up!”

The thin sheets on the ground lifted up and a dainty figure dressed in a woven rush raincoat crawled out. She turned her face and looked at the three big men in her surroundings, but didn’t say a word. I was originally thinking of going forward and helping, but this action of mine involuntarily stopped upon seeing the young lady.

It’s that assassin!

The one who stole into my room in the middle of the night, the assassin that intended to send me into the palace with a single dagger stroke!

Even though it was my first time seeing her, it’s impossible for me to mistake her lifeless countenance. It’s no wonder she was able to conceal herself in the city for so long. Ever since those tramps have moved out, the area under the bridge can be said to be a place that isn’t of interest to anyone. If not for the fact that I took the long way around today, it would’ve been basically impossible for me to think that there was someone concealed in such an area.

So what’s the situation now, she’s being threatened?

From what I could see, that assassin’s look was a bit absent-minded. I couldn’t help but feel a bit baffled upon seeing her reddened face and vacant expression.

Henchmen number one sneered:

“Oi oi, pretending to be dead won’t work on our boss.”

Henchmen number two chimed in:

“Exactly, exactly, listen up well, our boss has some business with you.”

Mohawk boss casually stood up with a gangster boss appearance and said:

“What’s the matter, ye sick? Ya tho’ght ya wouldn’t need ta pay protection fees when yer sick? Hmm? Lemme tell ya this now, this area is us three’s gang territory. Ya think ya cen sleep fur free? Hmm? Screw yer sleep, git up.”

The assassin looked at them in silence.

Henchmen number one moved closer to his boss’ side and whispered:

“No good, boss, this person looks very sick.”

Henchmen number two also whispered:

“Yeah, boss, I think she’s going to die soon.”

Mohawk boss whisper-shouted:

“Shut it, ain’t I make her get up to take a look.”

The assassin coldly watched the trio. Mohawk boss looked back at her and after the two stared at one another for a while, mohawk boss took the initiative to squat down and extended his dirty, callus-filled hands to touch the assassin’s head. Then he jumped back half a step and said in shock:

“The hell is this, whose dang stove turned into a spirit and runned over here?”

Henchmen number one said:

“Boss, look at how little she’s wearing. With how windy this place is, she’s probably caught a cold.”

Henchmen number two said:

“But there’s nothing we can do about that, we’ve let her delay her protection fee for several weeks and now she still can’t afford to pay.”

The trio came together to discuss for a while. In the end, mohawk boss wasn’t able to be heartless. He scratched his spiky hair, placed his hand into his pocket, and took out three copper coins after a long while of searching around. Then he sighed, passed it over to henchmen number one, and said:

“Us three brothers ‘ave survived through all kinds of harsh days an’ haven’t collected much money. To be honest, I feel sorry for you two. I was originally thinking of buying us some vegetable steamed buns to eat with this money. Then I would tell you to stop following me and all of us go our separate ways.”

“But you guys see that this girl before us is about 12 or 13. Now she has a high fever and turned into this. From what I can see, she’s on the verge of death. This is why I always say women are troublesome; they have soft skin and tender flesh, they can’t resist the cold or resist hunger. They’re things that’ll make you lose money. But since god let us meet her, buy her two steamed buns and save her from becoming a starving ghost.”

The two henchmen expressed one after the other:

“Boss is benevolent and righteous.”

Mohawk boss impatiently said:

“Benevolent and righteous my ***, stop kissing up. Hurry and go buy. Let me tell you this first, whoever steals food first is the one I’ll ******* kill first.”

The two henchmen ran off with the money clasped in their hands.

I was very amazed at what I was witnessing. I didn’t expect a group of beggars to have such a good spiritual culture.

Once the two henchmen ran off, mohawk boss sat down and asked the assassin:

“Where is little sister from?”

The assassin looked at him warily.

Mohawk boss threw a stone into the river and said:

“There’s no need to say if you don’t want to. I’m originally from Cangzhou. Do you know about the Overlord of Cangzhou? The one who led an uprising in the early years but was suppressed by the Overlord of Yunyang and the King? I was originally a chess piece that Cangzhou buried in West-Resisting City. After playing chess for 10 years, Cangzhou’s internal situation changed and our superior died in the internal strife. In the end, people like us ended up homeless and had no other choice but to wander around. We’re all people from a Secret Division and I believe you know that too. Sometimes we’ll find people like ourselves and know instantly upon meeting them. Therefore, I can guess that you’re some home reared assassin. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to save you this time and can only send you off on your way.”

Mohawk boss appeared to be around 30 years-old with winding sideburns and seemed a bit ferocious, but his words were quite melancholic:

“You, remember, don’t enter a Secret Division in your next life, it’s not worth it. Living in the darkness, dying in the darkness; nobody will pay attention to you and nobody will remember you. My superior in those years single-mindedly followed after the Overlord of Cangzhou, working his *** off, making plots for him, and killing an innumerable amount of people. In the end, a letter, one damn edict told him to commit suicide. It’s rumored that his corpse was hacked into pieces and the people scrambled to buy a piece of it. Haah. Messes to clean up were thrown to my superior, blame was thrown to my superior. When he was alive, he had to carry the burden. Now that he’s dead, he still has to carry the burden. It can be said that he was used to his fullest. Let’s not talk about him, you also haven’t lived well, right? Listen to me, those living under the sun are blessed. Whether they’re alive or dead, whether they work or laze around, they can be judged by everyone in the world and judged by history. But for people like us living in the darkness, we are whatever our superiors say we are.”

The young assassin didn’t respond.

She had been silent the entire time.

At this time, the two little brothers returned after buying steamed buns. Holding them in their hands, they ran over to their boss and said with big grins:

“Boss, we’ve returned from buying buns. That bun seller boss intentionally gave us some extra, saying that their outside appearances weren’t good and couldn’t be sold.”

As he spoke, henchmen number one eagerly handed over the supposed ‘not good outside appearances’ to mohawk boss and placed the remaining two steamed buns into the hands of the young assassin. With a serious face, he said:

“Don’t think too much about it, if not for our boss’ benevolence, how could you eat such a good meal? Quickly thank our boss!”

The assassin tightly gripped the steamed bun in her hands. Her pair of white hands were red from the cold and only when she held the piping-hot steamed buns could she feel a bit of warmth.



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