Chapter 132: Without Ruthlessness, You Can't Stand Firm

Chapter 132: If a Man Isn't Ruthless, He Can't Stand Firm

The Chicken-and-Goose District, Ghost Street.

The people living here understood better than anyone what it meant to seek advantage and avoid harm.

Long before the Tianfu Guards entered the adjacent Nine Dragons Street, the denizens of Ghost Street had scattered in a panic, each hiding in their own bolt-holes.

A deathly silence reigned all around, though greedy eyes watched from the darkness.

Wu Ya Hua sat squatting under the eaves in front of the clinic, a bowl of heaping rice and dishes in his hands.

Listening to the rain, the gunfire, and the shouts, he shoveled down mouthfuls of food.

"The Tianfu Guards entering the Chicken-and-Goose District to arrest people... haven't seen a mobilization this big in many a year."

"Have to hand it to that old bastard Zhao Ding—his eye for people is damn good. The young man he picked is a real man's man!"

Wu Ya Hua muttered to himself, head down, taking a savage bite that stuffed his cheeks full.

His movements were fierce, like a starved ghost reincarnated, as if this were his very last meal in the mortal world.

Perhaps he ate too fast; Wu Ya Hua's face suddenly flushed a deep red. He hurriedly scooped up a handful of rainwater from under the eaves and washed the food stuck in his throat down.

"Damn it, nearly choked myself to death. If I really went out like that, it'd be too embarrassing."

The old man set the spotlessly clean bowl on the steps, placing the chopsticks neatly beside it.

"Fed and watered. Time to be on my way."

He leisurely stroked his beard into order, rose slowly, and lifted his head to gaze at the night sky above.

This profound darkness, devoid of even a sliver of starlight, was no different from his own eyes, brimming with the vicissitudes of a lifetime.

"On the surface you look ruthless enough, but this old man can still tell—your heart is soft."

Wu Ya Hua murmured low: "This world eats people. No matter how hard your bones, how strong your genes, how many rounds of scheming can you endure? Every move an open book—how many rounds can you survive?"

"Men are bullied for their kindness, horses ridden for their gentleness. In these years where martial men walk alone, you must turn savage—reach out and I'll chop the hand, raise your head and I'll sever it!"

He was asking himself, and answering himself.

Having spoken these words, Wu Ya Hua lifted the front of his long robe, turned, and strode with large steps into the clinic.

"Back in the day, the martial men of our Chu Wu Sect probably settled scores just like this, didn't they? Dead fatty, daring to set your sights on my Duo'er—pah!"

Boom!

At that same moment, in the No. 14 Chain Cultivation Abbey of the Divine Candidate District.

The abbey was empty of people now, only the projection of the Three Pure Ones still suspended in mid-air.

Bleak, cold air seeped through the cracks in the house, issuing ghostly wails and wolfish howls.

The neural bundles hanging from the ceiling swayed to and fro, like tentacles extending from a demon's body, capable of sucking essence and marrow.

Immortal qi and demonic allure coexisted; the abbey and the ghost realm connected.

Within the cold, merciless eyes of the Three Pure Ones, an eerie red light suddenly flickered on the meditation cushion of the Divine Dais.

The next second, orange-red flames raged out, followed by an earth-shattering boom.

Boom!

Slap-splash, slap-splash, slap-splash!

Dozens of pairs of leather official boots trod successively through the filthy water accumulated in the alleyway, footsteps and breathing equally frantic.

The leading Guard Captain wore a grim, ugly expression; the guards behind him looked bedraggled, several already bleeding, the blood washing down their trouser legs in the rain.

This clearly short alley seemed impossibly long at this moment.

Besides the rain, faint rustling sounds occasionally rose from the shadows, as if someone were watching them from the dark.

"Rashly entering Nine Dragons Street... that was a fucking colossal mistake!"

The Guard Captain cursed incessantly in his heart. The high officials didn't understand, but they, these guards rooted in the bottom rung, who dealt with gangs and lowlifes year-round, knew perfectly well.

Arresting people here was simply unrealistic.

The Chicken-and-Goose District had existed in Chengdu County for so many years it had become a stubborn, chronic ulcer, showing signs of the tail wagging the dog.

Mostly because the big shots couldn't bear to part with the annual tribute, but also because the district's commoners banded together against outsiders, refusing absolutely to cooperate with the authorities.

The moment these guards set foot inside, their movements would be locked onto by countless pairs of eyes hiding in the dark.

Every rustle of wind and grass would be seen clearly.

To catch the Bagua Society's helmsman, Kuang Qingyun, in this environment, there was only one possibility.

That the man had no brains and delivered himself to their door.

"When it comes down to it, it's still that bastard Huang Yaozong with no brains, using our brothers' lives to curry favor!"

Slap-splash!

A strange sound startled him awake; he hurriedly looked down.

He saw a wild cat, not much smaller than a dog, stepping leisurely through the sewage, blocking the middle of the alley.

Beneath its mottled fur, a cold metallic glint flashed; a pair of green eyes stared fixedly at them.

Inexplicably, he actually felt a human-like mockery and sneer in those feline eyes.

A nameless panic, with nowhere to hide, spread through his heart.

Instinctively, he raised his right fist, signaling the squad to halt.

"Esteemed Lords of the Guard Bureau, gracing Nine Dragons Street with your presence is rare enough—so eager to leave already?"

Kuang Qingyun emerged from the gloom in a black martial suit, a long Qi-family saber resting on his shoulder.

Distant neon lights from a sign cast their glow, illuminating the cold smile on that chiseled face; behind him, heads packed tight, ferocious visages flickered in and out of existence.

The Guard Captain stared at the overbearing man blocking the way, voice deep: "Kuang Qingyun, you should know, our Guard Bureau and your Bagua Society have had no grudges previously. This entry into Nine Dragons Street is merely carrying out orders!"

"When you were shooting and killing, I didn't see your hand shake. Saying 'carrying out orders' now—isn't it a bit too late?"

The Guard Captain frowned tightly, raising the muzzle of his Duoyanwei submachine gun.

"Think clearly, Kuang Qingyun. Starting something here, you won't gain any advantage!"

"Who doesn't have guns?"

Kuang Qingyun threw out the words coldly, striding forward.

"Even your Inspector Luo Zhen died when he came. You lot, a bunch of lackeys, still dare enter? You think this is somewhere else?"

Kuang Qingyun's steps grew faster and faster, until finally he was sprinting. He leapt into the air, the nearly body-length long saber in his hand slashing out a cold, biting arc of light!

"This fucking place... is Nine Dragons Street!"

The Guard Captain roared sharply in unison: "Open fire!"

Gunfire erupted, sudden muzzle flashes driving back the alley's darkness.

Scorching streams of lead punched through Kuang Qingyun's black clothes, tearing synthetic flesh, finally slamming into his mechanical frame and exploding into dazzling showers of sparks.

Clang! Pfft!

Qi Jia’s saber cleaved through the horizontally braced spear shaft as a hot knife through butter, shearing the Do-yan Guard’s metal haft in two.

The unspent momentum of the long blade burst through the flying debris, bisecting the guard captain’s chest clean down the middle!

"You’re a Soldier Eight."

The scream had not yet ceased before the mangled corpse hit the ground.

Kuang Qingyun dragged his saber in hand, charging recklessly into the midst of the guards; a kick caved in the chest of a blocking sentry, and a horizontal sweep of his long blade whipped up a storm of blood and severed limbs.

With him holding the vanguard, the Hunshui Robe brothers behind him opened fire without hesitation, ruthlessly butchering this squad of guards.

"Leave no survivors, kill them all!"

The moment Kuang Qingyun’s words fell, a violent palpitation surged in his heart, a sensation as if a razor-sharp knife had already cleaved the air before his face.

In that instant, inspiration struck Kuang Qingyun; his body flung itself backward violently.

Boom.

The alley wall beside him was blasted open into a massive breach, a heat wave surging, rubble flying horizontally!