As one of the founders of Piltover, Heimerdinger could be said to be deeply pained about the current development of a large part of Piltover—admittedly, Piltover was already incredibly prosperous; almost everyone living in this city could feel sincere pride and joy. But having watched Piltover established bit by bit since the Rune War era, Heimerdinger knew better than anyone that today's Piltover was completely different from the past.
And among these, the biggest change was the trade nobles—although the members of these merchant families were equally wealthy in the past, they were absolutely not like now, able to make the favored children of Piltover Academy excitedly become incompetent drudges willing to earn money for them with just a paper contract.
Before this, Heimerdinger had already vaguely felt that something was going to happen between Piltover and the Twin Cities. But looking at it now, things indeed happened, but the things happening were even more intense than he imagined.
"Still watching?" Located in many hidden rooms in Bluewind Manor, conducting remote meetings through Hextech Crystal communicators. Hearing Faen's words through Faen's interference in the spirit realm, the reactions among many trade nobles were also different.
The image representing House Ferros lit up. A slightly tired, weak, but filled with cold malice old man's voice appeared in everyone's ears.
"These guys from Zaun have seriously affected our existence... Especially these words said by this guy, do you still plan to let him just finish saying them? If he really finishes, just wait and see how chaotic Piltover will become."
Hearing the words of the patriarch of House Ferros, Jago Medarda, the incumbent patriarch of House Medarda, also sneered and said: "Who are you threatening here? Stevan Ferros. Outside people respect you as Patriarch Ferros; here your identity is not nobler than others."
Stevan: "You!!"
"Enough." A cold female voice came from behind Stevan, also reaching the ears of other big family leaders through the communicator.
And hearing this sound, Jago Medarda, who originally still looked disdainful, also sat up slightly straighter.
Although the patriarch of House Ferros, Stevan, was an incompetent and paranoid trash, his sister's ability could be said to be obvious to the entire Bluewind Manor.
Her name was Camille Ferros. Also the Principal Intelligencer of House Ferros—
Piltover wanting to control Zaun naturally couldn't be just through trade means. In fact, among the current Piltover Council, the ancestors of at least two-thirds of the Councilors had participated in smuggling-related businesses—a man cannot get rich without ill-gotten gains, a horse cannot get fat without night grass. Precisely because of this, the Councilors of Piltover were quite clear about the rules of this world.
Civilization and all were just decoys; violence was the foundation of everything.
And Intelligencers were the invisible violence of Piltover—although House Ferros didn't directly invest in Jayce, they invested in House Kiramman. And House Kiramman successfully invested in Jayce, which let House Ferros eat full dividends in the Hextech revolution.
But precisely because of the hugely profitable business of Hextech Crystals, there were never few people targeting House Ferros. Although after moving the factory to Zaun and dividing the cake, to achieve long-term development, Piltovians agreed by chance to stop fighting. But Zaunites didn't get a share of the Hextech Crystal cake. Therefore, there were not a few thugs, even Chem-Barons, wanting to act against the factory regarding the pollution of the Hextech Crystal factory.
And whenever any clues appeared, Camille would discover them quickly with an amazing sense of smell, and execute them before they happened.
And similar Intelligencer organizations naturally didn't only exist in House Ferros. It was just that compared to this Gray Lady of House Ferros, Intelligencers of other families were like green leaves setting off red flowers. Although not well-known among the residents of Piltover, for the trade nobles of Piltover, this was definitely a hotter existence than representatives of the Piltover Dream like Jayce and Viktor.
Glancing at her younger brother who showed dissatisfaction because of her rash interruption, Camille's face didn't have much expression, just saying coldly:
"For Piltover, Zaun is not only a continuous bleeding, blood-making machine. It's more importantly an important source of transferring contradictions. If we let this guy continue talking, letting people know what you, or rather what we are doing, that is the beginning of true chaos."
"Sounds nice, aren't you just letting ours go to die?" A merchant family leader sneered hearing this: "Did you not see the footage just now? If this guy didn't slow down, he would probably have arrived at Bluewind Manor by now, right? Good thing you can still talk shamelessly here."
"If he possesses such power, then no matter how we struggle, it's of no use."
Hearing the other party's words, Camille's face didn't show the slightest anger because of it. Even her voice was full of coldness and calm:
"And him stopping now either means he wants to bring us greater despair. Or it means he is just strong in appearance but weak inside now. But in any case, this is our last chance. Otherwise, watching him step into Bluewind Manor helplessly, even executing him after this will also be of no help."
Pausing, Camille continued: "I know you guys have more or less hired capable people and strangers from all corners of Runeterra. Now is the time for them to show their value."
Hearing Camille's words, the channel fell into a brief silence. A moment later, Jago Medarda who spoke before also transmitted a light chuckle, then said: "Since the Gray Lady has already said so, then we can't continue to sit and wait for death like this. Otherwise, it will really make others think we are easy to bully."
"But this matter caused such a big scene; whoever contributes the most gets the biggest piece of the Zaun cake next, everyone thinks no problem, right?"
"No problem."
"I agree."
"Then let's try it out."
"Haha, I just found a good guy, perfectly timed to test his quality."
"Ha." Hearing this, Stevan couldn't help laughing: "Hunting a flashy fake? Then I win for sure!"
Accompanied by the conversation coming from Bluewind Manor, soon, Faen walking towards Bluewind Manor noticed the special echoes produced in the spirit realm.
Generally speaking, Faen could often only feel joy. But accompanied by fusing with Janna, the emotions Faen could feel also became more.
And now...
Contempt? Greed? Feeling the emotions in the distance, Faen also rubbed his chin—was it because the pixels of Zaun's broadcast airships were too low? Or was it because subjective consciousness acted up causing them to lose connection with Janna's Twin Cities resonance?
However, not giving Faen more time to think, soon, accompanied by the masters of Bluewind Manor issuing orders, afterimages darted out from the upper level of Piltover.
Ordinary Piltovians might be affected by many things during their own growth, unable to accurately judge how complex the outside world exactly was. But for these trade nobles who often had to negotiate with warlords, city lords, and leaders from all over the world, they knew very well that there is always someone better out there. Even more clearly knowing that violence is the source of all rights and order.
And now, although ostensibly not caring, after feeling the threat brought by Faen, almost every family sent out their hired capable generals to start hunting Faen.
The first to arrive was a lion man—or rather Rengar's kind—nearly two meters four tall, muscles coiling all over his body, draped in thick mane.
Not the Pridestalker Rengar in the game—but a Kiilash.
Also the race name of Rengar's origin. In the genealogy of Vastayans, it belonged to terrestrial Vastayans. It was just that not all Kiilash had silver-gray fur like Rengar. Instead, according to different tribes and living areas, the fur colors on their bodies were also different. And in most cases, these furs could provide better concealment performance, and naturally had characteristics of keeping warm, resisting cold, and being dirt-resistant.
Compared to ordinary humans, Kiilash were very terrifying. The average height of this race was all over two meters three, muscle density three times that of ordinary people. Inverse-jointed lower limbs endowed Kiilash with the ability to sprint at high speed and jump violently and long in any environment; they were born hunters. And their best method was to leap out from the visual blind spot in the distance when the prey hadn't had time to react yet. Usually, those prey couldn't discover who killed them until death.
And now, wild beast pupils locked deadly on Faen in front of him. Leaping out from the shadows, located on the right arm of the Kiilash Moguta, accompanied by an afterimage flashing past, an exquisite short sword—a serrated short sword completely counting as a machete for ordinary people—broke through the air.
In the hands of this muscularly solid Kiilash, this moon-white sharp blade left a white crescent flash in the space. Speed is power. And under this visible speed afterimage, almost no one would doubt that even if blocking in front of him was a piece of steel, it would be cut off directly in this instant!
No, not a feeling, but actually cut off. Proficient in ambush, Moguta had hunted monsters whose size and strength far exceeded himself with this shadow-breaking strike an unknown number of times!
Hunt complete!—At the moment the sharp blade touched Faen, a flash of excitement also passed through Moguta's eyes.
He absolutely didn't expect that his risky strike actually punctured this guy's flashy fake trick just like this!
But just as Moguta was still thinking, in the next moment, Faen's face suddenly appeared close to him, asking smilingly almost face to face:
"Do you know Rengar?"