Restart:Untalented Man

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?Meanwhile, back at the underground hideout, the bald man who helps the Ferrons escape comes to learn about the unfortunate capture of his two drivers and some of the Ferrons' family members.

At present, he is listening intently to his men reiterate everything that happens in detail.

The underground hideout was quiet and plunged into a tense atmosphere.

Throughout the entire time, his face morphed through a spectrum of expressions, each mirroring the gravity of the situation. Frustration, worry, and contemplation played across his face.

The bald man's brow furrowed deeply as he processed the information, his mind undoubtedly racing through the potential repercussions of the failed escape.

"What should we do, boss?" His man asked, with a quiver in his voice, as soon as he finished recounting the event.

He was panicking, of course.

To him, there's no safe option for them now that the military is involved.

The question hung in the air as the bald man pondered about what to do.

For a long time, he had done everything he could to hide from the eyes of ruling authority and he intended to maintain it that way.

After minutes passed, the bald man inquired. "Where do you say they were moving, again?"

"Rafoldrod, boss," responded his subordinate.

The bald man absorbed this information with a nod, indicating that he had processed the details and was formulating a plan. freeweb(n)ovel.co(m)

"So, we still have time," the bald man muttered slowly, but it was loud enough to be heard but some of his men.

They promptly asked since their boss seemingly had a plan, "To do what, boss?"

The bald man's gaze shifted towards his men, locking eyes with each one.

A sly, almost sinister smile played on his lips as he revealed his intent. "To kill them!"

The words slithered through the room, leaving behind an ominous atmosphere.

His voice, though low, carried an unmistakable command that resonated with a history of ruthless decisions.

His men exchanged surprised glances, their expressions mirroring each other.

They were concerned about this decision.

"Are you serious, boss? Doing this is like launching an attack on the soldiers. We might attract their full attention instead!" One of his men voiced the collective concern.

The worry was evident in the furrowed brows and the guarded glances exchanged among the group.

The bald man, however, remained unfazed by their surprise. He addressed their apprehension with a calm demeanour and explained to them.

"If we don't do anything, they will spill it out. While I do have some trust in our men, I don't trust the Ferrons. So, it is better to silence them for good. At least, we could buy time to do some cleaning."

He was aware of the web of events happening in the kingdom right now.

So, he had confidence that the government would be preoccupied with more pressing matters and temporarily ignored them.

His words hung in the air.

The men, though still uneasy, began to absorb the logic behind the bald man's plan.

Despite the initial surprise, a subtle nod of agreement passed through the group.

Seeing his men finally absorb his plan, the bald man issued a command that cut through the tension-laden atmosphere. "If you understood, then get ready. We must kill them before they reach Rafoldrod," he declared.

"Yes, boss!" His men replied. It is not their first time engaging in this sort of activity so they know what to do.

Immediately, they sprang into action.

....

Somewhere on the road, two wagons carrying Albert and his daughter respectively leisurely moved through the nearly end night toward their destination.

They are among the lucky people who manage to glide through the border without encountering the chaos that had unfolded behind them.

Blissfully unaware of the ordeal his friends faced, the driver continues on his journey to Mindsza as planned.

The rhythmic clopping of horse hooves and the creaking of the wagon wheels blended with the nocturnal sounds.

The chilly breeze occasionally brushed off his face, keeping him awake and refreshed at the time.

Amidst this tranquil moment, a very unpleasant voice knocked his eardrum and disturbed the silent journey.

"Oyy! Where are we right now? What time is it? Are we safe yet?"

A series of questions were directed to him from a persistent voice at the back.

Sigh—

A weary sigh escaped the driver's lips, an audible expression of his exasperation.

'What kind of bad luck do I have to be in charge of this particular wagon? Can't he just shut up?' The driver silently grumbled about his unfortunate situation.

It was insistent and seemed to follow him like an unwelcome companion.

This is not the first time that voice annoyed him. In fact, he had a hard time trying to convince that voice to keep quiet while waiting in line to pass the border.

He can't make it so obvious or others would be weird to see him talking to his own cargo.

With no response from the driver, the voice echoed again. "Oyy! Do you not hear me?"

"Sir Ferron, we'll be arriving at Enyingrad soon. And it's almost dawn."

"Oh?! Is that so? That means we're safe, right? Can you untie this sack? I want to get out. It's cramped, hot and uncomfortable here." Albert complained.

He wriggled around within the confines of the sack.

The driver turns his head briefly. He sees the carefully arranged cargo moving a bit.

"Please be patient, Mr Ferron. We're almost there."

But Albert remained adamant. "No! I want to get out!"

'Haa... this old man,' the driver trying his best to be patient. But at this point, maybe he should just sell this old man along with the kids he transported.

Little did he know, that's exactly what Albert is worrying about. Although he seeks help from this criminal group, he does not entirely trust them.

Had it not for the sudden loss of contact with his foreign accomplice, he would not have reached out to them.