The mechanism was triggered—no traps, just a secret passage. The man who pressed the switch let out a sigh of relief, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and called out, "There's a hidden tunnel here! Bring the torches in, it's too dark to see clearly."
The leader immediately ordered his men to bring in torches. The room lit up—it was just an ordinary study, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
"It really is a secret passage. Half of you stay here and guard, the rest come with me." Nolan’s Suburban Villa is truly ingenious—these men are supposed to be experts, yet it took them half an hour with so many people just to find this place.
The leader led his men one by one into the secret passage, leaving a group to stand guard at the entrance in case anything went wrong. But just then, a creaking sound echoed—the entrance to the passage suddenly slammed shut...
"Quick! Go check—something’s gone wrong!"
"Who’s there? Show yourself!"
The guards left behind immediately panicked, raising their torches and searching the room. Suddenly, they spotted a man in black, sitting at the desk with his back to them.
When did this person sit down there? How did they not notice him when they came in?
The guards exchanged panicked glances, then nodded to each other—at the same moment, they all charged at the man in black.
"You think you can kill me?" The chair spun around, and the man in black finally revealed his true face.
"Black clothes, silver mask—are you Lance Quinn?" The guards hesitated for a split second, but in that instant, Lance Quinn’s sword was already drawn...
Crack! With a sharp sound, Lance Quinn knocked out their torches, plunging the room into darkness. He vaulted over the desk, moving with deadly speed—before the others could react, his sword was already thrust into one man’s chest.
"The Emperor’s men are getting worse." Lance Quinn’s words were both a taunt and a clear signal about who these men really were.
The guards didn’t dwell on it. Realizing their cover was blown, one snapped angrily, "Lance Quinn, what are you so cocky for? Don’t forget who beat you like a stray dog last time—if you hadn’t gotten lucky and run, you’d be six feet under by now."
"Lord Fuller? Felix Fuller, you mean? Why isn’t he here? I came tonight just to wait for him." With Lance Quinn’s skill, killing these men would be a matter of seconds, but instead he took his time, striking them down one by one, pausing now and then to ask questions—as if he were deliberately fishing for information.
At first, the guards didn’t notice anything strange. But as Lance Quinn kept asking more and more questions, they finally realized—he was trying to get information out of them. One immediately shouted to his companions, "Don’t answer him! He’s trying to trick us!"
"What a pity—you actually figured it out. Since you’re useless now, there’s no reason for you to live." Lance Quinn moved like a tiger leaping into a flock of sheep, his sword stabbing into bodies and whipping out again. Blood dripped from his blade, beading and splattering on the floor...
When Lance Quinn sprang out from the crowd, the men were still standing—only when he finished wiping the blood from his sword did they finally collapse one after another.
"Third Prince, you can come out now." Lance Quinn called toward the bookshelf.
Of course, the bookshelf didn’t reply. Lance Quinn didn’t mind—he sheathed his sword, stepped forward, and shoved the shelf hard. It slid to the left like a door, revealing a small room behind it. Inside, a man sat waiting.
That man was the Third Prince—the one the Emperor wanted to take away.
The Emperor’s intelligence was correct: the Third Prince had indeed arrived in the capital before Nolan and had been placed in Nolan’s Suburban Villa. But there was no hope now of the Emperor’s men taking him away.
"Lance Quinn? What’s your connection to the Former-Dynasty Lan clan? What are you after?" The Third Prince, hidden behind the bookshelf, was fully aware of everything that had just happened.
"You’re as sharp as ever, Third Prince—no wonder the Emperor fears you so much. What if I said I came to help you seize the throne—would you believe me?" Lance Quinn’s words sounded almost like a joke, but his voice was icy cold, making it impossible to dismiss him outright.
The Third Prince didn’t reply at once. He studied Lance Quinn for a long moment before finally asking, "So you really are a descendant of the Former-Dynasty Lan clan?"
The Third Prince had heard of Lance Quinn’s reputation, but this was their first meeting. He knew little about Lance—a wandering swordsman, not someone the prince had ever considered important.
"Since you’ve already guessed, why bother asking?" Lance Quinn didn’t deny it. His bloodied sword remained pointed at the Third Prince, his aura menacing.
Outwardly, the Third Prince showed no fear, but Lance Quinn’s killing intent still unsettled him. Meeting Lance’s icy gaze, the prince instinctively looked away and said, "So you’ve come for the Nine Provinces Treasure Map in my possession?"
The Nine Provinces Treasure Map?
The Third Prince has the Nine Provinces Treasure Map?
Nolan has held the Third Prince for so long—how is it that not a single piece of news has leaked out?
Lance Quinn kept his composure, but his mind was racing. He hadn’t expected the Third Prince to possess a fragment of the Nine Provinces Treasure Map—what a stroke of luck.
Lance Quinn showed no sign of guilt; he nodded coldly. "You’re as clever as ever, Third Prince. Since you know what I’m here for, I’ll need your full cooperation. You should know—I’m not exactly a gentleman."
Lance Quinn was sure the Third Prince wasn’t lying—very few people even knew about the Nine Provinces Treasure Map, and for the prince to mention it now meant he really had it.
"The Nine Provinces Treasure Map is useless unless you gather all nine fragments. Just having one means nothing—even if I hand it over to you, Lance, what difference does it make?" Seeing that his bait had worked, the Third Prince put on a mysterious air, waiting for Lance Quinn to take the hook.
"And what’s the catch?" Lance Quinn obliged, taking the bait.
The Third Prince was secretly delighted, though he kept a calm facade. "The catch is this... If I give you the Nine Provinces Treasure Map, what do I get in return, Lance?"
"In return? How about I let you keep your head?" Lance Quinn thrust his sword forward, stopping just a fingernail’s width from the Third Prince. The prince stiffened, then relaxed when he saw Lance had no intention of killing him—at least, not yet.
"You certainly have a sense of humor, Lance. But as someone from the Former Dynasty, you should know how important the Nine Provinces Treasure Map is. Trading one fragment for my life isn’t too much to ask, is it?" The Third Prince finally stated his terms.
For Lance Quinn, the Third Prince’s demand was simple—he just wanted to leave alive. But for Nolan, this was a steep price.
If the Third Prince vanished now, Nolan would be accused of deceiving the Emperor. If he wanted to survive, he’d have no choice but to rebel...
Truth be told, the brothers were all alike—whether it was the Emperor, the Third Prince, or Nolan, none of them showed the slightest brotherly affection...