Chapter 238 Spencer's Fear
"You're not going to kill me?" Terrence asked, feeling weak all over. He didn't know what William had done to him, nor did he want to know. What he cared about now was why William had chosen to let him go.
If their roles were reversed, Terrence would have chosen to eliminate William completely.
Holding Gemma, William looked at Terrence, smiled, and then turned to leave.
"What does he mean by this?" the warrior beside stammered.
Terrence's face was extremely grim. Beneath his still surging hatred, there was a faint trace of despair.
The warrior didn't understand, but Terrence did. He recognized that smile. He'd seen it before, reflected in the eyes of his enemies, in the moments before their deaths.
It meant disdain.
William didn't even consider them a threat. He knew they would seek revenge, but he didn't care. He had absolute confidence that no matter what tricks they tried, they wouldn't be able to harm him in the slightest.
Terrence had always thought of himself as a big shot in the post-apocalyptic world. Even though he was just a pawn for the Zero Commerce Guild right now, he figured it was temporary. His base didn't have a two-star wheel yet, but one day, he'd be the king of Accraville City, maybe even the whole state or country.
But now, he suddenly realized how naive he was. He was a small fish in a vast, unforgiving ocean. There were players in this game, individuals like William, who operated on a whole other level.
If he hadn't kidnapped William's people, if the Lowe Family hadn't clashed directly with his Cloud Peak Manor, who would have won?
Even though he was unwilling to admit it, Terrence began to acknowledge that he had been too arrogant. His arrogance hadn't shown on his face but had deeply influenced him and his decisions, leading to a bloodbath that cost him his three sons.
Perhaps, he thought, a change was in order.
"Let's go," Terrence ordered. He knew he would still seek revenge, but his confidence was nearly gone. He just wanted to give some comfort to his sons.
Michelle had her thumbs hooked into the belt at her waist, while the other four fingers rhythmically tapped on her lower garment.
In front of her stood Spencer, looking displeased.
The standoff had lasted for a while. Spencer had thought there was nothing that couldn't be negotiated. After all, the stability among the forces in the city was a result of negotiation.
Setting arbitrary prices, even raising them on the spot, was applicable in peacetime and even more so now.
Not every force could afford losses. In this chaotic situation, if one were slightly weaker, one would be swallowed up.
For example, the Hungry Tiger Knights warband, who suffered heavy losses in that battle, wouldn't last long. They would either become someone's vassal or be eliminated; there was no other path.
Spencer had thought Michelle and her backing force were the same. They wouldn't want to fight East Hill Village head-on because, even if they were stronger, taking over East Hill Village would cost them dearly, making them vulnerable to other forces.
So, even though they had taken the initiative, Spencer wasn't overly worried.
But no matter what he said, Michelle maintained her posture, not even moving her eyes.
Spencer admitted that even standing in this posture, Michelle was a beautiful sight, but he had no interest in admiring her. With each passing minute, he felt his advantage slipping away.
He didn't know where this feeling came from, but it was there.
"Ten modified guns, and we'll release the hostages. That's the bottom line. Yes or no? One word!" Spencer said impatiently, halving the conditions Michelle had proposed.
"And for the next six months, we won't attack each other," he added.
Michelle finally understood. She lowered her hands and looked at Spencer, smiling brightly.
"See, isn't this better? We're still friends, aren't we?" Michelle said with a smile. "But your conditions might need some adjustments."
Spencer's eyebrows shot up.
"Don't worry, it's nothing major," Michelle said, her confidence bordering on audacity. "Our boss says that if you agree to release the hostages, we won't just avoid conflict. We'll become…business partners. The best of friends, even. Of course, that's entirely up to you."
Spencer, irritated by Michelle who was about the same age as his daughter, said, "We'll see."
With a wave of his hand, someone came over. Spencer gave a few instructions, and the person left immediately. Moments later, Brian and the others from Cloud Peak Manor were released, along with ten modified guns.
Michelle took one and examined it. These modified guns were different from the ones William had improved. William's modifications were fundamental changes, essentially creating a new category of firearms.
But East Hill Village's modifications were different. They involved changes to the gun's components, enhancing the material.
These modifications didn't have the same effect as William's improvements, but they were still more powerful than ordinary guns.
She had her people equip the modified guns immediately. She patted her clothes, which had no dust, causing her full hips to sway enticingly, leaving some young villagers feeling a bit parched.
"Done!" Michelle said, snapping her fingers.
Spencer squinted his eyes, smiling slightly.
"Oh, Mr. Ross, remember to send my regards to Justin. Our boss said that when God closes a door, He always leaves a window open. Justin may seem foolish, but who knew he had such talent as a craftsman? Just look at these modified guns. His 'Quenching and Refining' skill is already so advanced. His future is surely bright," Michelle said, giving a thumbs-up. Then she cheerfully waved goodbye to Spencer and led her people into the distant forest, disappearing in moments.
A voice asked, "Spencer, should we take this chance to eliminate them?"
The villager who had brought the people over looked at Michelle with some greed but still knew his place.
After waiting for a response from his village chief for a while, he turned his head to see Spencer, who was usually authoritative and respected in the village, was now sweating profusely, his face full of fear!
