The Shepherds Are Dense

Chapter 170. Tommy: The Advantage Is Mine Ch 170. Tommy: The Advantage Is Mine

After venting his anger through curses, Tommy Lloyd cooled down slightly.Weighing his options, he decided not to give Vice President Boca any time to prepare. Unlike Boca, his time was tight—three days, as per Meg’s ultimatum.

If he killed Boca but failed to catch Alastair, he’d have to start over. Even capturing Boca alive might not yield accurate intel, and any leads could shift rapidly.

There was also a slim chance Alastair wasn’t Boca’s man but Noble Red’s.

“Are they trying to trick us into killing each other?” Tommy muttered.

Everyone knew he and Boca were at odds. Their mutual suspicion felt like a convenient excuse to spur action.

But after long deliberation, Tommy dismissed this.

From Noble Red’s perspective, they had reasons to target Aiwass and stir trouble, but using a shadow demon now made no sense. An unknown shadow demon was far more dangerous than a known one. At second-tier, Alastair could grow stronger, potentially threatening fifth-tier Transcendents at third or fourth-tier if timed right.

Noble Red’s restoration goal was laughable, but their commitment was serious. They’d hide such a trump card until the last moment, not sacrifice it to spark infighting. There were easier ways to achieve that.

Tommy and Boca were different.

Boca, a fallen judge, valued logic. Tommy, a pure merchant, focused on motives—or profit.

When not blinded by rage, Tommy analyzed actions through self-interest: “What’s in it for them?” His knack for reading motives made him the current “Lloyd.”

Supernatural abilities were too varied—logic alone risked missing key clues, leading to dead ends. Tommy’s approach—tracing beneficiaries—was sounder. If he targeted the wrong person, no matter. Kill them and move on.

If everyone lost, no one profited, and the bloody game continued.

To be safe, with his head clear, Tommy reviewed the clues again.

The only oddity was Boca’s angry tone on the phone. Knowing Boca’s character, if he’d orchestrated this, he’d be calm, smugly proposing alliances only to betray Tommy later.

Boca’s supposed weakness—if not an act—meant he’d avoid direct confrontation. Tommy outmatched him in strength, authority, wealth, and connections.

“But…” Tommy frowned, deep in thought.

He abandoned the idea of negotiating with Boca.

Boca’s hostility was real. Even if they allied temporarily to find the mastermind, Boca would betray him—eventually, if not immediately.

Better to eliminate Boca now.

If Boca knew of Meg’s verdict, his style suggested he’d sabotage Tommy, dragging out the three days to ensure Tommy’s death. They were in a kill-or-be-killed standoff—given the chance, either would strike.

Even if Boca wasn’t the culprit, Tommy would confront him first.

Meg’s three-day deadline was tight. If Boca interfered, it’d be impossible.

If Boca was involved, capture and interrogate him—or extract his memories. If not, kill him.

Resolved, Tommy made call after call.

The most urgent was to Lady Greygreen, Lloyd Society’s third faction, who balanced between Tommy and Boca. Now, he forced her to choose.

She sided with him upon hearing the full story, easing his mood slightly.

He wouldn’t wait for night, the usual time for their operations. Darkness aided escapes in Lloyd District’s maze of warehouses and backdoors, and the Bureau moved slower then.

But time was short, and Boca knew their tactics. Waiting risked Boca preparing—protective rituals, bribing Tommy’s men, calling court allies, or fleeing Glass Island, where Tommy couldn’t touch him.

Less than two hours after the threatening call, Tommy’s group, fully armed, approached Boca’s residence.

They used eight modified carriages, not for speed but for concealed ritual arrays.

Tommy’s innovation—splitting a ritual array into parts without losing efficacy—fooled Bureau inspections. Only the ritual circle needed to remain whole for activation. Components were crafted separately, assembled when needed.

Inspectors, familiar but not expert in ritual lore, wouldn’t recognize the disassembled summoning arrays. Outer circles passed as spare wheels, inner ones hid under cushions or disguised as decorative shields.

On the carriages, they assembled the arrays, soaking them in sodium phosphate-treated human blood to summon demons.

Noble Red scorned Tommy’s “invention” for its weaker effect and risk to casters, but as a pragmatist—Transcendence a tool, Authority the goal—he didn’t care. The 5% failure rate never triggered.

His group of over thirty doubled to sixty en route.

Sixty against two—Boca couldn’t muster more than a couple allies in an hour, plus himself and his demon. They were no match.

Tommy brimmed with confidence.

(Chapter End)