God Level Farmer In Another World

Chapter 70: Structure of the Assassin Group "Soul Hunters"

Giovanni was utterly confused. The documents Welma had thrown at him contained names and details of people he didn't recognize.

"Uh, Mad Wolf, take a look at these. Do you know any of these people?" Giovanni waved at Mad Wolf to come over.

Mad Wolf, grimacing in pain, limped over and carefully examined the documents.

He finally spoke up:

"Director Welma, these people aren't ours."

Welma's expression grew colder.

Sweat started to bead on Mad Wolf's forehead from the tension.

Finally, he spotted someone familiar in the pile of papers.

Pointing at the person, Mad Wolf quickly explained:

"I do recognize this guy, but he's not one of us! He's just a small-time thug from the northern district. He once tried to join us, but I didn't think he was worth the trouble."

Welma sneered:

"An E-rank awakened individual, and you didn't think he was worth it?"

Mad Wolf paused for a moment, stunned.

"That's impossible. He was just a regular low-life thug. I swear he wasn't an awakened individual! If he's awakened now, it must have happened recently."

Welma stared into Mad Wolf's eyes, searching for any sign of deceit. Finding none, she relented.

Could the recent rise in Bluewater City's crime rate really have nothing to do with Giovanni? she wondered.

Welma released Giovanni, crossing her arms and mockingly laughed:

"You can't even control the awakened thugs in Bluewater? You're a disgrace, far worse than Carlos!"

"Giovanni, keep an eye on your people. If I find out they're causing trouble during this time, I won't let you off."

With that, she turned and left.

Giovanni watched her retreating figure, his expression gradually turning vicious.

"You damn woman, one day I'll make you pay for this. Keep acting high and mighty!"

The following day, the news broadcast in the Old Oak Cafe reported a series of violent incidents:

"Yesterday, a brawl broke out on East Street, resulting in the deaths of three gang members and two bystanders."

"Yesterday, a woman was assaulted on Central Avenue. The case is still under investigation."

"Yesterday, a robbery took place on Central Avenue, where the shop owner was stabbed three times and killed. The suspect is believed to be an awakened individual."

A white-collar worker, sipping coffee, murmured, "What's going on? Why has Bluewater City been so chaotic lately?"

His companion scoffed, "What do you expect? Didn't you hear that Captain Ethan Blake was arrested? Without him, who's left to keep those criminals in check?"

Sitting in his usual spot, Alexander overheard their conversation and pulled out his phone.

On it was an app, set up by Rosie, that could track the city's crime statistics.

It was clear—the crime rate had skyrocketed.

In particular, after Renji's resurrection, the crime rate had reached the highest levels in the city's history.

Alexander clicked his tongue in thought.

"Truly a talented individual. In one night, he managed to send out fifty Saps of Ascension. How on earth did he pull that off?"

It was difficult to achieve that without exposing the guild, the hunters' identities, or the appearance of the Sap of Ascension.

The other hunters have only managed to send out a few dozen at most.

Closing his phone, Alexander looked out the window and murmured:

"This kid hasn't disappointed me. I'm almost out of Sap of Ascension."

"I'll observe him a bit longer. If he's capable, I'll make sure to nurture him properly."

The Mercenary Guild had connections everywhere now. Hunters were embedded in various professions and industries.

Money wasn't an issue either. Giovanni was wise enough to contribute a significant portion of his profits, and each month, he would personally add another million as a tribute.

Alexander's bank account saw nearly ten million coming in monthly.

Resources weren't a problem either. Whenever hunters needed points, extraordinary plants were supplied continuously.

But there was still one crucial thing the Mercenary Guild lacked.

Death squads. Efficient and ruthless death squads.

Most of the hunters had families and jobs. Other supernatural organizations likely didn't operate this way.

It wasn't that Alexander didn't have the heart to send them out for assassinations—it was just the delicate balance he had to maintain.

But people with attachments often act inefficiently.

Alexander needed hunters who could risk their lives at any moment.

Someone like Renji.

With no family, no ties, and even having died once, Renji had no reservations.

The idea of Soul Hunters slowly began to form in Alexander's mind.

Hunters who walked in the shadows, executing traitors—hunters who existed solely to kill.

They would hunt down anyone Alexander set his sights on.

Alexander began scribbling notes in his notebook.

In the coming days, Dou Yubo would be delivering the monster corpses from the recent siege to Alexander.

Once those arrived, they could produce more devil fruits and even higher-level Sap of Ascension.

That would signal the start of the Soul Hunter project.

"Soul Hunters can live in my estate when not on missions. That large space would be wasted otherwise."

"They can blend into society as maids, butlers, or gardeners."

"They'll earn points for kills... hmm, actually, maybe not points."

Alexander paused, muttering to himself:

"I don't want them knowing too much about the Mercenary Guild."

"After all, their missions are far more dangerous than the average hunter's."

Instead of points, they would be rewarded with money.

Killing specific targets could translate directly into cash, and occasionally, they could be rewarded with extraordinary plants.

Alexander continued writing:

"Renji and the Old Beggar can serve as instructors for the Soul Hunters."

"Renji will teach them reconnaissance skills, while the Old Beggar will focus on combat training."

If someone had high-level combat talent combined with Renji and the Old Beggar's skills, and wasn't afraid of death...

What a terrifying killing machine that would be.

A deadly assassin group was slowly taking shape in Alexander's notebook.

But then Alexander paused.

Where would I find that many death-seeking individuals?

Perhaps recruiting criminals with nowhere left to turn?

Would that work?

As Alexander pondered this, a waft of perfume made him wrinkle his brow.

"Are you writing a novel?"

The voice was clear and slightly sweet.

Alexander turned his head to see a young woman.

She had cream-colored long hair, a pure and innocent appearance.

Wearing jeans and a white sweater, her tall figure was curvy in all the right places.

She was quite beautiful, but Alexander couldn't figure out why he hadn't noticed her approaching.

Alexander stared at the girl, trying to discern any clues.

Feeling embarrassed under his gaze, she bent slightly, apologizing:

"Sorry, there's no other seat available. Can I share the table with you?"

Alexander looked around.

The café was small and, indeed, filled with people. It was likely due to the aftermath of the monster siege—many companies were still recuperating, and some office workers had chosen to work remotely from places like cafés.

Alexander nodded, displaying gentlemanly manners:

"Please, have a seat."

The girl thanked him again and sat down across from Alexander, pulling a notebook from her pink laptop bag.

She glanced at Alexander and, smiling brightly, tried to strike up a conversation:

"Are you writing a novel too? I am as well."

She must have caught a glimpse of his notes and assumed it was the outline of a story.

Alexander closed his notebook, nodding.

"Yes, a novel. An outline."

Perhaps she had seen some of the contents of the notebook—the question of to kill or not to kill was certainly an intriguing one.

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