The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness

The whistle shrieked like some kind of eerie beast, echoing through the night sky.

Compared to the drifting signal whistles used by the Hyena Gang, this one was far sharper, laced with a chilling aura—it sounded more like a war horn than a call.

“This... this is the Guard Corps!”

Shurz let out a terrified scream. The side effects of the drugs heightened his panic, and the old man—who once killed without blinking—now stood pale as death.

The strays prowling the perimeter had already sensed something was off and fled, and just as his words fell, footsteps and hoofbeats erupted at the far ends of the street.

Guards in black uniforms surged into the desolate outskirts of the city like a tide, flooding the abandoned district.

At every intersection, they raised large shields. Waist-high ballistae were rolled forward, their gleaming arrowheads flashing with deadly light, unmistakable even in the dark.

Shnk!

Blinding lights suddenly lit up.

Among the guards, mages conjured concentrated beams of light, illuminating the very center—where elites, thugs, and rats were gathered... and where a face lay beneath a black cloak, dulled and blank despite the heavy disguise.

Who am I?

Where am I?

What the hell just happened?

Wasn’t this supposed to be a perfect black-eats-black operation? Why the hell were the Guards here?

“Listen up inside! You are surrounded!”

A rotund man in a higher-grade uniform poked his half-fat face out from behind a shield. His magically amplified voice roared across the street:

“You’ve been reported for illegal transactions, theft, robbery, and even group prostitution. Drop the contraband, put your hands on your heads, and squat against the wall!”

“You have one minute to comply. If you resist, we’ll use force. I repeat—we will use force!”

Creaaaaak—

That nauseating sound of bowstrings winding filled the air. The ballistae, nearly as tall as a man, were drawn taut. Massive bolts waited in place.

These weren’t the cheap toys the Rats wielded. These siege weapons were usually stationed at towers or city walls—capable of piercing a magical beast’s heart or boring through several meters of stone!

And yet, here they were... aimed at small-time criminals who barely dared to operate in the Lower City.

A surreal feeling crept over them all—like bugs being stared down by a giant.

“Wh-... what’s going on?”

Even Lorenzo, who prided himself on having seen every kind of chaos, was stammering. He shouted furiously at his trusted aide:

“What the hell is this? Didn’t you say the Guard Corps was already paid off? Why are they here? Why the hell didn’t we hear a peep? And what’s with those bullshit charges—illegal trading, theft, robbery, and prostitution? Would we drag out something like that for prostitution? What, did we just happen to whore some noble’s precious daughter without realizing it?”

“I... I don’t know...”

His aide wiped cold sweat from his pale face. “I swear I made the arrangements. The Deputy Magistrate himself patted his chest and promised me!”

“You sure? Look again. Does that guy shouting look like your so-called Deputy Magistrate?”

“What?!”

The aide cautiously peeked out from behind the wall—and sure enough, there he was. The very same man who’d been drinking with him just days ago, debating whether wine or young girls were more intoxicating... now standing behind the shield, groveling before a bald middle-aged man.

“Bastard, I’m going to expose you as a goddamn pedophile the moment I get out of this!” the aide howled, enraged at being duped.

“Fuck!”

Lorenzo couldn’t help but curse out loud.

And then came a long, dreadful silence.

The three gang leaders exchanged glances, every one of them looking ashen.

The atmosphere turned painfully awkward.

After all their years in the underworld, they had never encountered something this bizarre.

“We have to leave.”

Sam the Rat’s beady eyes darted rapidly. He knew the noble lords best—and was the first to sniff out the anomaly.

He cast a regretful glance at the metal container in Ariel’s hands, then spoke with a grim face:

“We need to go. I don’t think the Guard Corps was ever here for us. Someone important must’ve also taken interest in the Ancient Dragon’s Lifeblood. All that ‘crime’ stuff is just a cover. Otherwise, they’d have sent the Knight Order, not the Guard Corps. And those ballistae? Probably staged for effect.”

Without another word, Sam led his men away efficiently. They clashed briefly with the guards lurking in the shadows. The sound of fighting soon faded into the distance.

Up front, the countdown continued, from sixty... down to twenty-five-point-five. The ballistae never fired. One minute had never felt so long.

“We’re leaving too!”

Seeing the Rats retreat, Lorenzo bit his lip and growled, eyes filled with bitter reluctance.

“But... the Ancient Dragon’s Lifeblood...” his aide still hesitated.

“No ‘buts.’ Our lives come first. We’ll deal with the High Lord’s task later.”

Though Lorenzo felt like he was bleeding inside, he tightened his grip on his blade and turned away. Half of his elite force followed, slipping into the shadows, aiming for the weaker side of the encirclement.

As for the Hyena Gang... their thugs had scattered the moment chaos erupted. Even Shurz’s fancy top hat was left abandoned on the ground.

Only Ariel remained.

Bathed in the overlapping, eye-searing beams of magical light, she stood alone—trembling.

“Wh... why is this happening?”

Her wide eyes blinked in dazed confusion, mind flooded with questions.

Where did it all go wrong? Why would the Guard Corps show up out of nowhere? I even picked such a remote location. Since when were those tax-draining leeches this reliable?

“Sigh...”

A weary sigh echoed in Ariel’s ears—her Master’s voice.

“Let it go, Ariel. ★ ★ Clearly, the Lifeblood isn’t meant for you.”

“No!”

Ariel shrieked in rage, nearly crushing the metal container in her hands. Her silver teeth clenched.

“No way I’m giving this up! It’s already in my hands! You expect me to hand it over now? You want me to ruin my perfect record of black-eats-black?”

“But this isn’t a simple black-eats-black anymore. The Guard Corps clearly came for the Lifeblood. If you don’t give it up, you won’t get out of here.”

Not a simple black-eats-black...

The words struck Ariel like a lightning bolt.

She suddenly remembered—remembered that scorned little bastard.

“I have another way.”

“The Ancient Dragon’s Lifeblood will be mine.”

The two sentences she’d once sneered at now echoed back with piercing clarity.

She finally understood.

Everything.

This was that noble brat’s so-called “other way”!

This wasn’t some underworld stunt—it was a righteous crackdown by the Guard Corps after a heroic overnight investigation! A glorious act of justice! A devastating blow against the Lower City’s shadow forces!

She could already picture that bastard draped in accolades, basking in applause, proudly boasting how his courage, wits, and determination led the Guard Corps to uncover a massive illegal operation—restoring the Lifeblood to its rightful owner!

Restoring your ass. In the end, it’s still going into your hands!

And not even a single coin spent!

Not a single coin!

Watching someone else profit hurt more than losing her own money.

“No—!”

The grief hit her like a storm. Ariel collapsed to her knees, pounding the ground with her fists in anguish.

Though it was only late autumn, in that pure night sky, it felt as if snow were falling. An inexplicable, sorrowful background music began to play.

“Why? Why is everything going wrong lately? I missed every golden chance, and even black-eats-black betrayed me... Damn you, Muen Campbell!”

“...Why’d you bring him up?” her Master asked, confused. “This has nothing to do with him.”

“I don’t know...”

Tears welled in Ariel’s eyes as she gazed toward the heavens and screamed:

“Even if it has nothing to do with him, I just really need to curse him right now!

Damn you, Muen Campbell!”