Chapter 15: So-Called Immortality

Chapter 15: So-Called Immortality

"I am disappointed."

Zhao Ding's gaunt frame slowly straightened within the sedan chair, his sharp gaze looking down upon Zhao Dou kneeling before him. "Do you understand why?"

"Why? Hahahaha..."

Watching Luo Zhen depart right before his eyes, Zhao Dou had clearly anticipated his own impending end. His previously dejected head snapped up, his eyes devoid of any fear, replaced instead by a towering hatred.

"Isn't it just because I refused to play the farce of a loving father and filial son with you, and instead tried to seize your position, take your life?"

"If it weren't for those wastes from the Jidao Society, the one kneeling here wouldn't be me, but you! Zhao Ding!"

Zhao Dou bit down on those last two words with vicious force, baring his teeth like a feral hyena, venting his malice without restraint.

"It seems even now, you still don't understand!"

Zhao Ding's eyes held a disappointment so thick it could not be dissolved; in his view, Zhao Dou remained just as naive and ignorant.

"Ambition is not a crime, but you must be able to win, and more importantly, able to lose! Even in death, do not blame heaven or others!"

The old man glared, his voice carrying a raging fury.

"I'm not disappointed by your usurpation, but by the fact that you couldn't even defeat an old man on the brink of death from genetic collapse!"

"I'm not disappointed by your ruthlessness, but by the fact that you betrayed your own to curry favor with an outsider! Who is Luo Zhen? That man-eating starving tiger—did you really think you could command him?"

"If you, Zhao Dou, could win today, I would laugh louder than anyone even while kneeling here! Because you are my descendant!"

Roaring like an aging lion, Zhao Ding's withered body exuded a dreadful aura.

Zhao Dou's face turned paper-white, his eyes a shifting kaleidoscope of resentment, regret, and fear, finally twisting into a hysterical howl.

"If you were willing to pass the helm to me, why would I have turned traitor?!"

"Because you are incompetent! The foundation I, Zhao Ding, built with my blood cannot be handed to a waste!"

Zhao Ding waved his hand toward the silent Hunshui Paoge surrounding them. "Open your dog eyes and look at these brothers of ours!"

"If I entrust them to you, can you lead them to survive?"

Zhao Dou's eyes reddened, his mouth opening, but before he could utter a single word of rebuttal, Zhao Ding delivered the final verdict.

"You cannot!"

Three words, each resounding like metal, yet they crushed the last glimmer of light in Zhao Dou's eyes.

"You would only be devoured to the bone by Luo Zhen and the Tiger Mound, and the Hunshui Paoge would be utterly ruined in your hands!"

Having spoken these words, Zhao Ding wearily closed his eyes, no longer looking at the dazed Zhao Dou, his withered arm waving dismissively in the air.

"Let us grandfather and grandson die together. Otherwise, when I die, you won't survive in this world either."

The moment the old man's voice fell, Kuang Qingyun, standing behind Zhao Dou, suddenly thrust out an arm, five fingers like knives driving straight into the back of Zhao Dou's neck.

With a wet *puck*, the bio-chip embedded in Zhao Dou's neck was violently ripped out.

"Ugh... ah..." Zhao Dou's pupils dilated, unconscious gibberish spilling from his mouth.

The wound at his nape resembled a broken showerhead, spraying milky-white synthetic blood.

There was not a trace of red in Zhao Dou's blood.

To win Zhao Ding's approval, he had long since modified himself into something no longer human.

Yet even so, to his dying breath, he remained a waste in Zhao Ding's eyes. A waste who didn't even have the qualification to live on after his elder passed.

Kuang Qingyun's palm, clutching the chip, slid open, ejecting a black box the size of a matchbox.

Li Jun recognized this thing. It was a host server for constructing a "Yellow Millet Dream," and judging by its miniature size, its computational power wasn't high.

The simulated Yellow Millet Dream could likely only maintain a timeline of about five years before endlessly resetting, looping forever.

A bone-deep chill suddenly surfaced in Li Jun's eyes; he suddenly understood what Zhao Ding intended to do.

"Master Ding, do you really have to do this?"

Despite looking down on Zhao Dou just the same, Kuang Qingyun couldn't help but ask once more before inserting the bio-chip carrying Zhao Dou's consciousness backup into the host.

Kuang Qingyun's question received no immediate answer. Only after a long while did Zhao Ding's weary yet resolute voice drift from the sedan chair.

"To live in a happy dream... for Adou, that should be the best ending."

Kuang Qingyun opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing. Hesitating no longer, he inserted the chip into the host's port.

*Click.*

A red light illuminated the black box—the sign of a successful consciousness upload.

Zhao Dou's body was dead, but his consciousness had attained "immortality."

Only, such "immortality" was fleeting.

Kuang Qingyun cradled the host in both hands, walking to the sedan chair and placing it gently on Zhao Ding's knees.

Only at this moment did this ruthless, cold-blooded helmsman of the Hunshui Paoge finally cease to conceal his grief. His withered fingers stroked the black box back and forth, his lips trembling faintly.

"Mr. Zhao Ding, please control your emotions, please control your emotions!"

The life-support equipment emitted a piercing alarm; two expressionless bioroids prompted Zhao Ding in stiff, mechanical tones.

Zhao Ding took a deep breath, quickly composing himself, then opened his eyes to look at Li Jun.

"Ajun, I was unaware of Zhao Dou's betrayal of you. Including Qingyun using Eighth-Rank internal force to seal your mouth—that was not my intention. Had I known, I would not have allowed it."

Zhao Ding's voice was exceedingly calm, as if stating a mundane fact.

All trace of arrogance vanished from Kuang Qingyun; he stood obediently to the side, hands clasped, apologizing. "It was my fault, Master Ding."

"The brothers injured or killed today—I will pay to properly provide for their families. Furthermore, I will personally compensate you with three hundred thousand Daming Treasure Notes. What do you say?"

Zhao Ding's attitude was sincere, even humble. As the helmsman of the Paoge Society, he had no need to explain so much to Li Jun.

Whether Zhao Ding's words were true or false, the fact that he went this far was giving Li Jun ample face.

Otherwise, even if he used Li Jun as bait to hook that vicious shark Luo Zhen, what could Li Jun do?

Kill Zhao Ding to vent his anger?

The moment Li Jun entertained such a thought, he would be riddled with bullets instantly.

A Sequence Nine martial artist could barely count as a superhuman, but a superhuman is not a god.

A bullet to the head, and you die just the same.

No guns were fired in today's conflict because Luo Zhen's status as a Tianfu Garrison Inspector was on the table.

That identity was a shield, and a shackle. Even Luo Zhen himself had his hands tied by it.

Because once a large-scale shootout erupted, the nature of the entire affair would instantly change.

Gangland vendetta and armed conflict—these two terms were worlds apart.

Neither the high command of the Tianfu Garrison nor the powers behind Zhao Ding wanted to see a gunfight break out on Nine Dragons Street.

But now, Zhao Ding no longer had those reservations.

If he wanted to gun down Li Jun, it would take but a single word.

Li Junbowed his head slightly, masking his expression, and said flatly, "On behalf of my dead brothers, I thank you, Master Ding."