Chapter 102: Heart of the Machine 'Martial Saint—The Battle of Changsha'

Chapter 102: The Mechanism Heart 'Martial Saint—The Battle of Changsha'

Boom!

Within the black clouds, lightning snakes danced, wind howled, and rain lashed down, the sound of rain merging into a continuous roar in an instant.

Pedestrians fled in all directions as the falling raindrops struck them, the bustling streets from moments before now deserted, save for the alternating red and blue lights flickering on the signs above.

The cold wind rushing through the silent streets produced a wailing sound like ghostly lamentations, a bone-chilling cold spreading unchecked.

The sudden storm, like a sudden attack of murderous intent.

Click.

A pair of leather boots splashed into the sewage, sending up large splashes of murky water.

The rag-and-bone man curled up under the eaves, drowsy and half-asleep, seemed to sense something amiss on the street, quietly parting one red artificial eye to peer out.

Just a glance, and his entire body trembled uncontrollably.

At both ends of the empty street, two men without umbrellas but armed with knives on this rainy night had somehow appeared, facing each other in opposition.

The beggar caught between them had no time to curse the sudden misfortune from above; he abruptly lowered his head, raised his hand to slap his forehead, and the artificial eye in his eye socket went "pat" and fell out. His hands and feet moved swiftly to conceal it against his body.

Though from their appearance these two men didn't seem likely to rob a beggar on a rainy night, this was still the most valuable thing on his person, and he couldn't afford to lose it.

Having completed this practiced maneuver, the beggar stared with his now-empty eye sockets, deliberately lifting his face toward the two men to reveal a vacant, foolish smile.

"Put down your knife?"

Li Jun narrowed his eyes, staring at the long-handled Guan Dao strapped across the other man's neck, "Do we have a grudge?"

The man holding the sword wasn't tall, wearing a shoulder-length armor that revealed his muscular arms.

On his right arm, metal wires intertwined to form a statue of Guan Yu standing with a halberd, eyes wide and fierce.

The face of Guan Yu painted red seemed to gleam with cold light under the street lamp, like a living creature, exuding a murderous aura that pressed down on the senses.

The man also glanced at the ink-black blade at Li Jun's waist, shaking his head, "No grudge."

Li Jun nodded, "Then you're taking orders from someone else?"

The man gave a faint smile, "Taking money to settle a debt."

"Aren't you afraid of doing the job and not getting paid in the end?"

"The money from the Chuan Yu Gambling Association—no one dares to renege on it."

Chuan Yu Gambling Association.

Li Jun noted the name, snorting, "Then you probably don't understand Wu Gong."

"Third-rank door lord."

The man sneered, his gaze toward Li Jun revealing a hint of interest, "Though you're just a Martial Eight, to make the Confucian door lords treat you as a thorn in their side and a splinter in their flesh—that's rare."

"Are you coming with me willingly, or do I have to chop off your limbs and drag you away?"

Li Jun rubbed the hilt of his sword, his palm burning hot, his face calm as he smiled, "You're quite domineering, but I wonder if your blade is as domineering as you are?"

"Why don't you try and see?"

The man removed the Guan Dao from his neck, gripping it in one arm.

"These years, I've been looking for a Martial Eight to kill. Too bad you people in this sequence hide your heads and show your tails, making it hard to find. Now that I've run into you, I might as well test whether the rumor that military way is subordinate to martial way is true or not!"

"No need to try," Li Jun grinned, "I have no interest in taking a slave."

The man's face suddenly darkened, each word deliberate, "Remember this—the one who kills you is the Chuan Yu Gambling Association's Third Rank!"

With those words, the blade struck, and the man followed the blade's movement.

A Guan Dao pierced through the rain curtain like a bolt of lightning striking down from the clouds, cleaving toward Li Jun's head!

"Now the military way is the master!"

Clang!

The ink-black blade rose from behind Li Jun's waist like a dragon, scales and claws flying, gripping the edge of the Guan Dao.

Li Jun stared into those fiery eyes, retorting sharply, "Why don't you help me pass on a message—tell them I'm still just a junior?"

'Third Rank's' thick brows suddenly arched violently, a buzzing sound echoed in his chest cavity, a mighty force like a rushing river surged along his mechanical bones, and in an instant, it was channeled into the Guan Dao.

The tide of force was about to rise, and Li Jun's feet were already in motion.

He sidestepped, the ink blade scraping against the Guan Dao's body, sending up a dazzling spark as he delivered a horizontal slash toward the man's skull.

'Third Rank' lowered his stance, evading the fierce wind head-on. At the same time, the Guan Dao in his hand crashed to the ground, splitting a narrow crack in the hard street surface.

Logically, this blade splitting the air should have left the man off-balance, his defenses wide open.

Yet there was no trace of alarm on his face; his hands gripped the weapon, borrowing the force to launch a kick toward Li Jun's face.

This kick was heavy and powerful, and the angle of the lifted leg was strangely odd, like a scorpion lashing its tail, completely unbound by human joint constraints.

Bang!

Li Jun crossed his blade before his chest to block the kick, about to leap backward to dispel the force, when a near-piercing mechanical heart buzz suddenly sounded in his ear, and a cold gleam erupted from the ground!

'Third Rank' stepped forward, drew his blade, and the Guan Dao slashed upward with ferocious simplicity, exuding a terrifying majesty.

This blade, if it had struck solidly, might have split even a black sedan chair in two.

A thousand armies parting!

The rainwater stirred by the blade's light struck Li Jun's face first, yet it couldn't shake the ferocity in his eyes.

He abruptly pulled his left foot back half a step, his body crouching like a fierce tiger, his arms' muscles bulging under the impact of internal force, each tendon distinct, like steel wires coiled around them.

His right foot stepped forward, both hands gripping the blade, the hilt to his brow, and he brought it down with force.

Battle array sword technique, breaking the army blade, advancing with might!

The two blades clashed with a thunderous crash.

"Nice timing!"

'Third Rank's' eyes widened in fury; his chest cavity's 'Martial Saint—The Battle of Changsha' mechanical heart was most suited for direct combat, its nature being unmatched in ferocity.

As the compatibility grew stronger, 'Third Rank's' spirit soared, ready to continue urging the mechanical heart to unleash its power, when he suddenly realized the blade's force had abruptly intensified!

Advancing foot soldier's momentum—this was not reckless charging, but bold aggression!

Li Jun, who had retained some strength within the blade's movement, suddenly exerted force, his arms sinking to press down the Guan Dao, his left foot dragging back like a battering ram, directly ramming toward the man's chest.

'Third Rank's' brows knit tightly, and in haste, he bit his teeth and dragged the blade's body out from under the ink blade's grip, using the Guan Dao's shaft as a shield to withstand Li Jun's kick.

Bang!

This Chuan Yu Gambling Association blade-wielder retreated hastily with the Guan Dao, attempting to create distance and regroup.

Unfortunately, Li Jun's figure had already surged forward, his already somewhat skillful leap-step enhancing his speed further, and in an instant, he pressed close to the blade-wielder.

At this distance, the Guan Dao's advantage of striking from afar was completely nullified.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Metal clashed in rapid, crisp sounds, the rising blade light engulfing both figures in its midst.

The beggar curled beneath the eaves clutched the bio-prosthetic eye, his body pressed against the street-side shop, inching forward with painstaking care.

Suddenly, a wild joy lit upon the beggar’s face.

His fingertips could no longer graze the rough wall—this meant an alley’s corner lay before him.

Just as he prepared to flee at full sprint, escaping the twin death gods, a thunderous shout crashed into his ears, and his heartbeat faltered for a breath.

“Mechanical heart, overclocking!!”