*Chapter 61: When Facing Threats...*

The moment Goethe sensed the malicious intent, he immediately identified the stalker's identity—it was an accomplice of the man who had suddenly appeared from the alley earlier.

After all, this was Polo. Marple's first time in Blacksettings. He had no enemies here.

As for anyone coveting Mr. Marple's wealth? That was nonsense. Although Goethe made sure to appear generous, his generosity was within reasonable limits and wouldn't attract unwanted attention.

So, the only plausible explanation was that these were the accomplices of the man from earlier.

And soon, Goethe's suspicions were confirmed. In the distance, he saw the same man who had just been taken away by the police. The man thought he was being stealthy, but to Goethe, he was as clear as day.

Upon seeing the man, Goethe didn't hesitate. He tapped on the carriage.

The carriage immediately came to a stop.

"Kay?" Goethe called out to his manservant.

"Master, what are your orders?" Kay, sitting beside the coachman, immediately responded to Goethe's call.

"I need you to head to the largest newspaper in town as quickly as possible and inform them that a shooting incident is happening here," Goethe said calmly.

A shooting? Kay was momentarily stunned, but as a servant, he knew better than to question his master.

"Understood, Master! I'll take care of it right away!" Kay replied and jumped off the carriage, running off in a specific direction.

Meanwhile, Goethe stepped down from the carriage.

"Stay in the carriage and don't get out," Goethe instructed the maid.

"O-Okay," the nervous maid nodded repeatedly, still unsure of what was happening. The coachman, however, walked over to Goethe.

"Boss, leave it to me. They're probably just looking to save face and want a bit of compensation," the coachman remarked. He had clearly noticed something was off, and it wasn't his first time dealing with such situations; he was quite experienced in handling them.

But Goethe waved his hand, signaling that he had his own plans.

He had a rough understanding of the 'Wealth Bar,' and had some theories about the 'Fame Bar.' The current situation presented an excellent opportunity.

In this era, nothing could bring fame quicker than making it into the newspapers!

Originally, Goethe had planned to use his identity as a writer to gain fame through publications. But this method was far more effective.

What draws more attention: an ordinary writer or one involved in a shooting incident?

The answer was clear.

So, Goethe walked straight toward the stalker.

The coachman was taken aback but quickly followed. While it wasn't his job to act as a bodyguard, he hoped to ensure his employer's safety within his capabilities. After all, he prided himself on being the best coachman at the "Simek Carriage Service."

The stalker, realizing he'd been spotted, showed no signs of panic. Instead, he walked out boldly. Simultaneously, four more men emerged from the shadows, including the one Goethe had pointed a gun at earlier. The five of them stared menacingly at Goethe.

"Hick!" the man from before shouted at Goethe. Despite Goethe's well-dressed appearance and handsome face, the man, with his ragged clothes and ugly face, felt a sense of superiority as a native of Blacksettings. More importantly, he was emboldened by their numbers.

"I spent 100 crowns bailing my brother out! Now, I need you to cover part of that. No problem, right?" The tallest and burliest of the five, arms crossed, sneered at Goethe. After confirming that Goethe was just a pale, delicate young man who looked every bit the frail young master, his eyes filled with disdain and greed.

"Oh, and he was scared out of his wits! I need an additional 100 crowns as compensation!" the leader added, his demands increasing.

As he spoke, the other four drew their knives, slowly closing in on Goethe. The man from earlier shook his knife threateningly, as if ready to stab Goethe at any moment.

The coachman raised his whip, shouting—

"Get lost..."

Bang!

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, abruptly cutting off the driver's shout.

The driver looked in shock at Goethe, who had pulled out a revolver and fired directly.

Then, he looked at the leader, who was hit in the forehead and fell to the ground, blood gushing out, his expression frozen in disbelief.

The fallen leader’s face was filled with terror and disbelief.

The leader knew Goethe had a gun.

But he didn’t believe that this seemingly frail young master would actually dare to shoot.

He thought it was just a bluff.

The leader had similar experiences before.

As long as you pushed hard enough, these young masters would end up crying, maybe even wetting themselves, and then you could get whatever you wanted.

So, the leader didn’t believe Goethe would shoot, and neither did the four henchmen.

Especially the man who had tried to kidnap Goethe in the alley earlier—he regretted being scared off by a young master at that time.

So, he came out and encouraged his boss to stand up for him.

But he never imagined that Goethe would actually fire the gun.

The situation before them was completely different from what they had imagined!

They were stunned.

But Goethe wasn’t.

He kept pulling the trigger.

Bang, bang, bang!

All four men holding knives were shot down.

And at such close range, every one of Goethe’s shots hit a vital spot.

In an instant, all five attackers lost their ability to fight back.

Only then did the driver’s whip come down.

But the whip no longer made that crisp, powerful sound—it just limply drooped.

The driver stared at Goethe, eyes wide open, as if seeing him for the first time.

Clearly, the driver was a bit frightened.

He never expected his employer to be so decisive and... ruthless!

That’s right!

Ruthless!

When he acted, it was without mercy!

“Earlier you mentioned that you had crossed vast uninhabited areas. I thought you were exaggerating, but now it seems your experiences are even richer than you let on!”

The driver smiled wryly.

“I just don’t like trouble.”

Goethe replied simply.

So, he just dealt directly with the people causing him trouble?

The driver thought silently to himself.

Then, he started wondering if he should give up the title of "Best Driver at Simek's Carriage Company."

He felt his employer was too dangerous.

One wrong move and he could lose his life.

But, in the end, he couldn’t bear to give it up.

The pay for the best driver was more than double that of a regular driver.

He had a family to support!

Thinking this, the driver quietly stood beside Goethe.

But Goethe was looking towards the street corner.

A group of men in black uniforms were rushing over.

Among them was someone he recognized.

The police had arrived faster than expected, causing Goethe to frown as he had a bad feeling.

It was the same officer who had arrested the man who was now lying dead at Goethe’s feet.

When the officer saw the five bodies on the ground, he immediately ordered everyone to draw their guns and point them at Goethe.

“I’m the victim here!”

Goethe glanced at the police pointing guns at him, then addressed the officer he had met once before.

The officer coldly pointed at the five bodies on the ground.

“Victim?”

“Victims don’t stand up!”

The officer mocked.

“Of course!”

“They tried to extort me and pulled out weapons, so I fought back!”

“Was I not supposed to fight back?”

Goethe spread his hands.

Immediately, he saw the anger flash in the officer’s eyes.

It was as if the officer’s authority had been challenged, and he growled.

“I told you before, in Hesetins, you need a permit to carry a revolver!”

“I have one!”

“Just got it!”

Goethe pulled out his gun permit and smiled at the officer, then pointed around and continued, “And I have at least ten witnesses who can prove I was forced to shoot.”

“Really?”

“What can they prove?”

“I decide what counts!”

The officer’s face remained cold as he leaned in close to Goethe, speaking in a low voice only they could hear, one word at a time.

A threat!

A blatant threat!

Goethe looked at the officer, his smile turning cold.

If at first, Goethe simply disliked this officer, now he utterly loathed him—the officer must have known what would happen after releasing the man earlier, yet he did it anyway, something even Swart wouldn’t do.

Swart always left some room for maneuver.

But this officer?

Not only did he leave no room, but he was also aggressive.

Perhaps he was used to this kind of thing.

Just like now, with his threat.

But Goethe wouldn’t let this threat slide.

He responded in a similarly low voice.

“Your way of handling things is truly eye-opening!”

“Believe me!”

“You’ll soon become famous for it!”

With that, Goethe looked to the side.

There, his servant was returning with a reporter.

The officer noticed too.

“This is your way of handling things?”

“Too naive!”

“Just wait, this is only the beginning. I’ll make sure you can’t sleep or eat in peace until you leave Hesetins...”

“Hillbilly!”

The officer sneered, dragging out his words, the mockery in his eyes growing more intense.

“Of course not!”

The officer’s words made Goethe completely abandon the idea of recreating Rust’s scenario.

As he had guessed, the officer was doing this on purpose!

And he intended to keep going!

If that’s the case...

Goethe suddenly lowered his head, smiled slightly, and with a flick of his hand, a knife hidden in his sleeve dropped into his palm.

But instead of stabbing the officer, Goethe shoved the knife into the officer’s hand and, before the officer could react, used the officer’s hand to stab himself in the abdomen.

Splat!

(To be continued)