Chapter 954 - 13: Otherworld Survival Live Broadcast of the Hero and the Demon King_2

Chapter 954: Chapter 13: Otherworld Survival Live Broadcast of the Hero and the Demon King_2

At this moment, they heard a distant clamor of cursing and shouting, which sounded fierce and threatening yet carried a sense of bluffing to hide their own unease, desperately pretending to be fierce to appear strong.

The Hero frowned.

Not far away, in a small alley.

A group of ruffian young men blocked the alley entrance, their hair dyed in various colors, and some even had nose rings... they looked somewhat familiar. If the Great Demon King and Asher were here, they’d be surprised to recognize them as the group of punks they had taught a lesson to earlier.

Each of these punks had bruised faces, and their injuries had yet to heal, regardless of gender.

After all, those two Demons were good enough to hold back their habits and not instinctively go too hard, which was already impressive. Expecting them to differentiate between punks, rebellious girls, and treat them separately was impossible. They were absolutely impartial, very fair in their approach.

Currently, among the gang of punks, some still had bandages wrapped around their heads; whether they got hit so hard they suffered a concussion is unknown. They looked quite comical, yet undeniable were their dedication to duty, showing up despite their injuries...

"Are you deaf?!"

"What are you looking at! Do you need me to repeat myself?"

"Be smart! Hand over your belongings!!"

But despite this, they still tried to maintain a fierce demeanor, passionately waving baseball bats in their hands, or flailing their limbs in an angry, loud scolding of the people on the other side, attempting to use their numerical advantage to intimidate and showcase their supposed strength.

Probably just a few days back, after taking a severe beating, they had pent-up frustration boiling inside, a fierce resentment—they wouldn’t repent or reflect; these scoundrels would only get even more furious, eagerly wanting to vent their impotent rage on the next victim.

That’s about all their pitiful brain capacity could fathom.

They had to live this way, needing to bully the weak to prove their lives were somewhat worthwhile...

Thus—

Although they didn’t even know why, tonight they drifted to this area, inexplicably confronting a young, naive chap. But their pent-up anger had to be released; they felt suffocated, with a fire of rage surging, acting recklessly.

"Stop... stop it!"

Just as the group of punks were getting more heated, spitting words more fiercely with their eyes reddened, ready to strike.

A voice from behind halted them, speaking in not-so-fluent Japanese.

"Who is it?!"

The startled punks turned around, their expressions drastically shifting.

There stood a very pretty girl, her slender figure, upright appearance, with rose-red long hair glimmering under the streetlights... but most importantly, was her bizarre attire.

Recalling the memories of a merciless beating from two oddly dressed individuals a few days prior, the punks’ faces turned dark, and for some reason, their anger was instantly ignited, each shouting loudly with reddened eyes.

"Uh..."

The Hero just arrived, intending to do good, barely uttering before seeing the group opposite, like maniacs, charging towards her with red eyes, leaving her utterly astonished.

Are these people crazy? Why so aggressive?

......

——A few minutes later.

......

Dozens of punks lay scattered on the ground, emitting weak moans or cries of distress.

They had been beaten once more...

Just like a few days ago, completely powerless to resist, facing not two big men, but a single seemingly weak woman, who swiftly took them all down. Their spirits were deeply crushed, not to mention the unbearable physical pain, almost reducing them to tears.

The previous injuries hadn’t healed well, now being pounded mercilessly, beaten nearly to the point of vomiting blood...

The medical fees alone would bankrupt them!

Standing in the middle of the chaotic battlefield, Miss Brave panted slightly again, deeply realizing her current weakness.

These were just ordinary people, not even collectively matching a real Demon Race, yet caused her quite an effort... if it weren’t for the still intact combat experience, resolving this issue might have been challenging; perhaps she needed to use the remaining Holy Power.

Pursing her lips, with a heightened awareness of her perilous situation, Miss Brave turned to the person previously surrounded by the punks.

"That was awesome..."

The young man clapped his hands, displaying a surprised expression, observing the punks sprawled across the ground, not overly concerned about the mess of his casually used tools, casually scanning and redirecting his attention to the girl opposite.

"It’s really lucky Miss, you’ve lent a hand, otherwise, I’d have been in trouble today..."

Fully immersed in his act, he sincerely expressed gratitude.

Miss Brave blinked; not fully comprehending his words, she could guess the sentiment. After all, his amazed expression followed by a genuinely sincere tone toward her seemed unmistakably intending gratitude.

——She didn’t realize that subconsciously precisely because she thought so, the subsequent scene would appear entirely reasonable.

——Gaining trust swiftly may not necessarily involve helping others but allowing them to help you at the right moment; this is even easier to dispel wariness.

......

...

Meanwhile.

On the first floor of a three-story old apartment building somewhere in the city.

Though it was a rundown apartment, it currently held an extraordinary significance, becoming a temporary remodeled Demon King Castle, the Earth’s first base to counter Ante Yisula!

Yet...

"Great Demon King?!"

"Great Demon King!!"

Asher’s voice transitioned from a cautious whisper to increasingly louder calls, finally unable to resist turning on the light, discovering the entire person of the Great Demon King lying on the tatami, seemingly lifeless...

The Great Demon King...

The Great Demon King is dead!!

As the Demon Grand Marshal knelt by his lord’s corpse, engulfed in sorrow, almost wailing in anguish, that seemingly rigid corpse moved slightly. Satan strained to open his eyes, feebly emitting a barely audible voice:

"I... can still be saved, quick... call an ambulance..."

Saying this, he shed tears of humiliation.

Having forgotten he had turned human, injured yet not eating or drinking continually, slept three days and nights straight...

Attempting to habitually heal using familiar past methods led to—

The Demon King from the Otherworldly realm was finally rushed to the hospital overnight due to malnutrition.