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Strongest Werewolf
Chapter 40 I'm in Charge Here

Chapter 40 I'm in Charge Here

This answer caught Glen by surprise.

He turned to look at Ravel and said teasingly,"Given your temper, I'm surprised you don't bully them. For instance, engage in some despicable behavior..."

"No!" Ravel's face flushed a deep red, and he was as indignant as an enraged calf."My mother has strictly instructed me not to mistreat the servants in our household! And I'm not allowed to violate women at will. That would be beneath the dignity of a noble!"

Glen thought to himself that this family wasn't entirely beyond redemption...

Among the experiences of the noble youths that the original host had encountered, many had blood on their hands. Bullying commoners and servants was almost a daily occurrence.

If the original host hadn't been wealthy, he wouldn't have even been worthy of associating with those people. And even so, the original host hadn't held a high position within that circle.

Tia, standing nearby, looked somewhat confused. She seemed not to understand how Ravel had known what Glen was going to say before he had finished.

"What are you two discussing? What's this about violating women? Is it about bullying us? Young Master Ravel would never do such a thing," she asked, her curiosity piqued.

But her question was completely ignored.

"You still haven't told me where we're going," Ravel said, remembering the question the maid had asked earlier.

"Where else could we be going? Of course, to my place. Don't worry, it's not far."

...

When they returned to the place where the cart was hidden, fortunately, the cart, supplies, and the large deer were all intact.

The tethered deer was leisurely munching on grass, its fluffy, short tail swishing back and forth. When it saw Glen approaching, it came forward and nuzzled him affectionately.

Ravel and Tia, who had followed, had clearly never seen such a creature before and regarded it with great curiosity.

Glen reattached the cart to the deer and asked the two of them to sit in the available space on the cart. And so, they entered the forest on the outskirts of Bayek.

However, after traveling for only a short while, the two young people, who were new to this place, were affected by the eerie and sinister atmosphere of the forest and began to cower.

"Young Master Ravel, could this be the terrifying forest where the witch lives, as described in the bards' stories? It's so scary..." Tia whispered softly to the trembling youth beside her.

"Shut up!" Ravel shot the maid a vicious glare.

The girl shrank her neck and dared not say anything more.

Glen, who was driving the cart, heard the whispers from behind but had no intention of explaining anything. Instead, he quickened the pace of the cart.

When they arrived at Glen's humble abode, Ravel, upon getting off the cart, didn't bother to hide his look of disdain. He even had the audacity to complain loudly to Glen:

"You're not expecting me to live here, are you?!"

Glen gave him a sidelong glance and pointed at a small, abandoned shed beside the house."No, you'll be living there."

Ravel stared at the shed, which was pieced together from a few broken planks and was only slightly larger than a doghouse. He was stunned."This... this is just a doghouse, isn't it?!"

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Glen rolled his eyes."This is a shed."

"But it's no different from a doghouse! I refuse to live here! I... I want to live there!" Ravel pointed at the luxurious villa next door.

Glen looked in that direction. It was an empty villa. As he had passed by, he had noticed a sign on the gate indicating that it was for sale. Moreover, he hadn't detected the presence of any living creatures inside.

Although no one was currently living there, Glen wasn't going to be greedy and take it over. He had his own principles.

"That's not my house. Even if it were, I wouldn't let you live there! If you keep talking, I'll give you a good beating!" Glen said menacingly.

Ravel shuddered and lowered his head, falling silent.

However, his eyes were filled with a blazing hatred.

"Don't worry, Young Master Ravel. I'll tidy it up for you. I promise it'll be spotless in no time!"

Seeing her young master being scolded, the maid Tia quickly stepped forward and grabbed his sleeve to comfort him.

But Ravel clearly didn't appreciate it and shook her hand off.

Before she could say anything more, Glen's voice drifted over."You're not allowed to help him. He has to do it himself. If he doesn't finish by nightfall, I'll give you a beating with a stick!"

Ravel clenched his fists.

"How can you do this! The young master has never done such menial work before. I must help him!" The maid protested vehemently.

"I'm in charge here. Now, come with me," Glen said firmly and then walked into the house.

Tia hesitated for a moment, then took one last look at Ravel before following Glen into the house.

Glen located an unoccupied chamber and addressed Tia, who had entered behind him, saying, "Henceforth, you shall dwell here. I shall fetch the bedding anon. Your duties encompass maintaining the cleanliness of this place and performing domestic chores. Do you comprehend?"

"I am here to tend to the young master! Not to serve as your menial servant!" the maid protested, her voice laden with discontent.

"I am the one who dictates matters here," Glen repeated the words he had uttered moments prior.

With those words, Glen promptly exited the room.

Ravel was already laboring reluctantly to tidy up the shed, his movements distinctly awkward.

Glen paid no heed. He was solely concerned with the final outcome.

Harnessing the deer - drawn cart, Glen transported the furniture towards the vicinity of the pigsty. He could not afford to overlook his daily routine of inspection.

After unloading and arranging the furniture in place, he exchanged greetings with NightRoar, the guardian. He cast a cursory glance around, and upon ascertaining that all was largely in order, he retraced his steps with a sense of reassurance.

...

In the stillness of the night.

A boy garbed in the attire of a commoner traversed the streets of Dude Town. At this juncture, not a single pedestrian was to be seen; he stood alone amidst the surroundings.

A nocturnal breeze swept by, and the boy tightened his collar. His eyes were suffused with an intense sense of trepidation.

Seemingly sensing the growing tranquility of the environment, he suddenly quickened his pace.

Unaware, he was being shadowed by a tall, imposing figure. Like one well - trained, the shadow's footsteps fell soundlessly.

The shadow tilted its head slightly and surveyed the area. Once certain that no one else was in the vicinity, it resolutely extended its hand and covered the boy's mouth and nose!

This unexpected turn of events filled the boy with abject terror. He struggled frantically, kicking his legs wildly.

However, all his efforts were to no avail. The shadow was a robust man, and his hand nearly enveloped half of the boy's head.

Just as the boy was on the verge of being dragged into an alleyway, a gunshot rang out sharply in the stillness of the night.

The shadow let out a pained cry, clutching its bleeding hand and staggering back several steps.

The boy also tumbled to the ground. Disregarding what was transpiring behind him, he sprang to his feet and fled.

A group of police officers clad in black uniforms suddenly emerged from obscurity and lunged towards the shadow.

At the vanguard was none other than the captain sporting a distinctive handlebar mustache.

Upon witnessing this situation, the shadow, despite the excruciating pain, withdrew a short, silver - hued pistol from his waist with his uninjured hand and discharged it towards the approaching officers.

"Evade!" the captain with the handlebar mustache roared like thunder, issuing a warning.

The officers promptly rolled to the side, yet some were still grazed by the bullets.

The captain with the handlebar mustache, evidently seasoned and highly skilled, deftly evaded the direct gunfire and then advanced with a swift lunge, closing the distance between himself and the shadow.

A long - pent - up straight punch landed with precision on the shadow's visage.

Blood spurted forth from the shadow's nose instantaneously, and he toppled backward, his head thrown back.

A surge of elation welled up within the captain. He thought that after all this time, he had finally managed to get a lead on the criminal gang. However, a cloud of purple smoke suddenly billowed out from beneath the shadow's coat and lunged towards the captain's chest in an instant!

The captain with the handlebar mustache was seized by a sensation as if his brain were being violently jolted. His eyes rolled back, and he foamed at the mouth. The next moment, he lapsed into unconsciousness.

Seizing this opportune moment, the shadow made his escape.