Chapter 17: Killing, or Mastering Killing
My ears caught faint sounds—three slow, light footsteps approaching from the tomb forest. Massive grave mounds, seven or eight meters tall, blocked our view of each other.
The trio moved with extreme caution, their steps unlike normal walking.
I couldn’t identify them by sound alone. A misjudgment could be fatal— if I failed to take out Chen Hong first, his rifle would kill me.
The coming clash required speed and utmost caution.
Xie Jin, positioned to see Chen Hong’s group moving slowly through the tomb forest, glanced their way. He sighed inwardly that I was too cautious, not chasing.
Had I pursued, I’d be dead under Chen Hong’s gun.
Chen Hong shook his head at Xie Jin, gesturing to lure me over.
Xie Jin understood, feigning arrogance: “Li Weiyi, you’re tough today, I’ll give you that, but I’ve got Dr. Cai. Come on, with a hostage, he won’t dare touch us.”
Xie Jin and the stun-gun-wielding security member fled toward Chen Hong’s group, thinking to draw me to the rifle’s muzzle.
Chen Hong gripped the rifle, stock against his shoulder, aiming forward.
I didn’t fall for it. Seizing the chance, I dashed to the top of a seven-meter grave mound. The five figures behind it came into clear view.
Hearing me, Chen Hong swung the rifle toward the mound’s top.
The Yellow Dragon Sword flew first.
The blade whistled through the air, shrieking.
“Thud!”
The sword struck Chen Hong’s chest.
Like a blow from an iron rod, pain seared his chest, and he fell backward, nearly losing the rifle.
The corpse armor saved him— the sword didn’t pierce, leaving only minor injuries.
After throwing the sword, I leaped from the mound to a three-meter tombstone, then down, aiming a kick at Chen Hong’s face.
Chen Hong rolled to dodge.
I pursued, my palm slashing like a blade, sleeve whipping, aiming for his neck.
Too fast— Chen Hong couldn’t aim. He raised the rifle to block.
“Thud!”
My palm struck the rifle’s barrel like a hammer, forcing it back against Chen Hong’s throat, nearly crushing it.
His throat burned, sweet with blood, eyes wide, ready to counter…
But a hoarse scream escaped first.
I twisted his rifle-holding arm, snapping it, then hurled him. His head smashed against a tombstone with a “thud.”
Slashing, grappling, breaking, throwing— fluid as flowing water.
I grabbed the rifle, stepping steadily, using the stock to shatter Chen Hong’s knees, ensuring he couldn’t stand.
“Ding ding!”
Faint camel bells echoed from the tomb forest’s depths.
A blood-red glint flickered in my pupils, as if countless voices urged me to crush Chen Hong to pulp. The rifle stock hovered above his terrified eyes, but I restrained myself, reason overcoming emotion.
Master killing to protect, not be consumed by it to destroy myself.
If killing was needed, I’d leave it to Senior Brother.
Amid Chen Hong’s screams, the other four fled in terror.
This college kid was too brutal, ruthless— a demon.
I fired the rifle.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
The last three bullets killed the slowest, the stun-gun security member.
Discarding the rifle, I didn’t chase the three vanishing into the mist. The deck was finite— where could they run?
Without guns, they posed no threat.
But here, the situation was complex. If I chased, someone could circle back, with dire consequences.
I dragged Chen Hong by the leg, sword dripping blood, emerging from behind the mound.
Seeing me, the crowd on the deck sighed in relief, hearts eased, viewing me as a god descended, unstoppable against villains.
The earlier gunshots had worried them for me.
Xie Tianshu, still in a pool of blood, was kicked repeatedly by Gao Huan, writhing in pain.
Xiao Lin, truly scared, believed I was no longer human, invincible. Sitting by the hull, he stayed still as a quail.
In the end, they were ordinary people.
Bullies acted like beasts, but when death loomed, they cowered like mice.
“Vent later— untie everyone first!”
I said this, then approached Zhao Meng to check his injuries.
Suddenly.
From the distant mist, a click of a bullet chambering.
Faint, but my ears caught it.
Without thinking, I ducked and rolled toward the medical shack.
“Bang!”
A gunshot thundered.
If not for my quick reaction, it would’ve left a bowl-sized hole in my waist.
Xiao Lin, caught in the crossfire, took the shot, his head exploding into a mess of blood and flesh on the hull.
Chaos erupted with screams on the deck.
Gao Huan, untying ropes, crouched in fear, peering into the mist.
“Tap tap!”
A rush of footsteps approached.
From the mist, the six from Lab 705 emerged.
Han Qin, the near-two-meter-tall man, led, chambering another round, aiming at the shack. If I showed myself, he’d shoot.
The crowd recovered from shock.
A team member asked, confused, “Director Yang, what are you doing? Little Brother Li saved us!”
Director Yang, in his Zhongshan suit, said flatly, “Why’s he so strong? Lifting a hundreds-of-pounds spear single-handedly, moving unlike a human. He must’ve swallowed the Buddha’s relic— its power made him transcend mortality.”
The bound team members showed sudden realization.
The bespectacled woman from Lab 705 said, “He’s been lying, saying the relic isn’t with him. Can you trust someone like that?”
Director Yang added, “Only by retrieving the relic can we turn the ship back to Earth. Don’t you want to go home?”
My voice came from behind the shack: “Yes, I have the relic, but it can’t control the ship. Director, don’t you just want to swallow it for its power? My strength doesn’t come from it.”
Director Yang, avoiding debate, said, “I’ll count to three. Hand over the relic, and I swear on my honor, we’ll pretend nothing happened. We’ll work together to survive this ghost world.”
“If you persist, face the consequences.”
Qi Shanshan, worried I’d be swayed by youth, laughed, “If he doesn’t show, you can’t touch him, Director.”
Director Yang glanced at Qi Shanshan, standing alone by the hull, baffled by her boldness to oppose them in such danger.
He stared coldly: “They’re brothers. If he won’t show, his brother’s right there.”
Han Qin aimed at Zhao Meng on the ground.
“One!”
“Two!”
Yang gave me little time to think, quickly shouting, “Three…”
As “three” rang out.
Qi Shanshan’s eyes sharpened, yanking off her cross pendant and hurling it.
An imperishable item from a skeleton!
“Ding!” The pendant hit near Han Qin’s feet, activating some mystic energy, bursting with blinding white light, clearing the mist.
Qi Shanshan knew my character— at “three,” I’d either act or surrender.
She wouldn’t let me lose to Lab 705’s six, so she risked helping.
She’d seen my strength— not just martial prowess but my sharp judgment and ability to seize opportunities.
I’d catch this chance!
As she predicted, as Yang shouted “three,” I called, “Want the relic? Here!”
Like a ghost, I leaped to the shack’s roof, channeling scorching airflow to my arm.
Like throwing a dagger, I flung the Tao Ancestor Tai Chi Fish, whistling through the air toward Han Qin, thirty meters away.
Han Qin raised his gun, but the pendant’s white light blinded him. In that instant, the Tai Chi Fish struck his head.
My strength was immense— even a stone could kill.
Han Qin’s forehead shattered, eyes darkening, collapsing.
“Splash!”
I leaped from the shack, feet swift as a horse, aiming to reach them before they grabbed the gun.
Except for the bespectacled woman, the other four were older but quick. One snatched the shotgun.
“Pfft!”
I’d anticipated it, hurling the Yellow Dragon Sword, piercing his chest.
His scream and the shotgun’s clatter rang out together.
“I’ll stop him!”
Director Yang, calm, his face darkening, raised his arm, revealing a three-headed snake bracelet.
A metal snake with three heads coiled around a blood-jade band.
Another imperishable item!
Yang cut his wrist with a knife.
Blood flowed, not dripping but seeping into the band. A blood-red glow erupted, the snake coming alive.
Yang, drained of blood, withered, aging a decade instantly.
“So much blood needed?”
He’d tested it before— a little blood activated it.
Too late for regrets.