Villains' Sisters Yearn for my Copious Mana

Chapter 68: Quantity versus quantity?

Smith Lambert.

He was one of three family heads, known in America as the strongest human. He wielded guns created from fantasy steel, his bullets imbued with mana.

He came out like a special agent, his presence silencing everyone around him except Max, who had been sneering at him.

"You love guns so much that you even created them through supernatural means, forming a new battle style," Max scrutinized the old man going his way, "It's impressive how you still claim the top three spot with a new style."

While players were agape from Max's disrespectful tone, Lambert fixed his eyes on a young man. He sensed profound mana coming out from Max, his origins unknown.

Such mana shouldn't exist on Earth, though. And as the recent events shook the whole world, Lambert inferred that Max killed his old rival, Franc.

It was quite odd, though.

The world changed, and a person with unimaginable mana appeared. It was as if Max was like the Grim Reaper, his objective to kill everything in his way.

"A young man with abundant mana appeared precisely before the catastrophe. You wield so much power that you can match us, who had lived for more than five hundred years.

You are the cause of the catastrophe, aren't you? And even if you aren't, you must have had your hands in it.

You play a savior now? Is it because of guilt?" Lambert narrowed his eyes, his voice loud, reaching everyone, similarly to Max's previous performance.

He wanted to shift attention to Max.

Yet, as Max heard those words, he smiled, "Where's your proof?"

He might be stupid and inexperienced in supernatural matters, but it was different regarding quite common stuff. Moreover, Max learned significantly from experiences happening around him.

Lambert faintly smiled, "You killing Franc is enough proof. You want to change the world, but at what price?"

Max laughed, looking at the crowd of ordinary people, "Did you hear him, guys? He has no proof, simply trying to shift the blame to me.

He said a few things right, though. Yes, I am a young man. I've been living for eighteen years, unaware of mana and dungeons.

What about him? How many years was it? More than five hundred? I think I heard him right. As a leader for such a long time, you haven't even thought about ordinary people. You haven't prepared them for a catastrophe, simply enjoying the dungeon's benefits.

And now, you spread propaganda to stay at the top, don't you? Do you really think you will find an answer to your old age by having power in this weak world?"

Max won an argument against Lambert, for the old man didn't answer any of his questions. Furthermore, the man with a gun was on the losing side because his propaganda was exposed from the start.

No one believed him, and no one wanted to be with him.

That was only if Max was around, though. People would enter the holy land if Max disappeared with the twins.

They would willingly follow Smiths, even if their ideas were twisted.

And what could those ordinary people do, anyway?

Max suddenly read a red dot on his forehead. A moment later, a bullet went through his forehead.

"Nice try," Max whispered as his mana barrier stopped the bullet just before reaching his head, "Yeah, I am your only obstacle. Me and my girls, I mean." He laughed before disappearing from the scene.

In an instant, Max appeared before Lambert.

He used his unusual crack. But his casting time was much faster, for his target was closer. His speed was also impressive!

BANG!

Max threw his punch forward, slamming his hand coated in mana through the draconian battle style on Lambert's back. Unfortunately, the old man's armor was sturdy. He just stumbled a few steps forward.

And as he located Max, he promptly turned around, pointing his pistol at him. A few bullets escaped his rifle, going straight at Max.

Max dodged by reading trajectory through his Mana Read. He was even bold enough to slap one bullet with a stronger body.

"Just a scratch," Max whispered, retracting his eyes to the old man.

The distance between him and Lambert widened significantly, so the old leader used his M4A1, spending the entire clip on Max.

He squinted his eyes, for Max used a combination of his punches and mana barriers to defend himself. At the same time, Lambert looked around. He was shocked to see his teammates unable to help him due to twin dragons.

'We should've killed these women instead,' Lambert complained before changing the clip through his inventory.

He grew worried, for it didn't seem like Max was trying. He didn't know how Max's battle against Muller Franc had gone. But if it was similar, then Lambert was probably already dead.

Thus, he signaled through secret gestures to his forces hidden within the holy land. After he conveyed his plan to them, Lambert fired a few more bullets through his M4A1.

"How many bullets do you have?" Max asked, perfectly avoiding all attempts to wound him by tilting his head, bending his body, and raising his speed a little. He also used his barriers for the unavoidable bullets.

Lambert didn't answer his question. He was focused on something else. And as Max entered his close range, Lambert took out his knife.

With this weapon, he rushed forward, daring to fight Max head-on!

'What's his plan, huh?' Max thought while exchanging blows with the old man. Because he couldn't tell the knife's information, Max intensely focused on dodging the blade, thrusting his palm strikes at Lambert's wrists.

They fought in such a fervent dance for good five minutes.

As the clock reached midnight, Max sensed more than ten thousand dots on himself. He glanced behind, spotting mini guns on the holy land's gates. All of them pointed at him, intent to use quantity against him!

And while Max boasted copious mana, he wasn't sure whether he could fare against the five hundred years household, whose resources were surely abundant.

'That's fine, though,' Max sneered as he waited for them to fire.