Chapter 224: The Traitor Zhao Tong

Chapter 224: The Traitor Zhao Tong

On one side, there was a premeditated desire to seize this opportunity for wealth.

On the other, a murderous intent to cleanse the coveted malice.

The trap of waiting by the tree for a rabbit had met with reckless abandon.

The night rain above had already prepared to wash away the bloodstains, and the mud beneath had readied itself for a feast.

At this moment, any further words would be superfluous.

Four characters—"no death, no truce"—were enough.

Clang!

Li Jun’s right hand gripping the umbrella handle trembled slightly, the canopy suddenly contracting, a sharp blade edge spewing forth from the umbrella’s ribs.

In the blink of an eye, the black umbrella had transformed into a chilling blade.

Before the blade’s edge, the killers of the Chuan-Yu Gambling House had already closed in for the kill.

Zheng!

The soles of his shoes sank into filth, the blade slicing through the fine rain.

A shadow sprang forth, colliding into the crowd in an instant.

The Embroidery Spring Blade descended in fury, cleaving another chilling long blade in two.

The unrelenting edge plunged into the killer’s shoulder, slanting downward across his chest, spraying blood and torn muscles.

Li Jun spun and kicked, sending the corpse crashing into the crowd, the immense force toppling several people.

In a heartbeat, the Embroidery Spring Blade devoured another life, pausing not at all as it lunged forward again, striking another man’s face in a flash of lightning and fire.

The latter’s eyes widened in horror, his pupils flickering rapidly, his body beneath his robes swelling like a breath of wind.

Enhancing human cells, amplifying limb functions, using the body as one’s own field, planting seeds to sprout.

This was the signature technique of the Farmer’s Sequence.

Alas, before the seeds he had planted could sprout, the Embroidery Spring Blade had already severed his head, leaving only a headless corpse sprawled in the mire.

Two elite killers from the Chuan-Yu Gambling House had perished in mere seconds.

The remaining corpses, under the rain’s wash, faded from crimson to a deathly pallor at an alarming pace.

Wet strands of hair clung to his rigid sword-like brows, yet could not veil the bone-deep chill in his eyes.

Li Jun unleashed the latent ferocity within his bones, letting the blade’s edge speak in place of his throat!

Bang!

His shoes sank into the mire, splashing murky sludge. The blade moved with his body, condensing into a razor-sharp chill, once again enveloping the unnerved killers of the Chuan-Yu Gambling House.

Ssshh!

The sound of the blade slicing through steel sent shivers down the spine.

A mechanical arm was severed midair, its milky synthetic blood glaringly conspicuous in the dim rain-soaked night.

Li Jun’s left elbow slammed into the killer’s chest, his five fingers hooking into the opponent’s face, lifting the arm before him.

At that moment, the long-suppressed gunfire ahead finally erupted!

Bullets tore through flesh with dull, thudding sounds, eventually embedding themselves into the corpses after expending their force.

Smoke filled the air, blood splattered.

Li Jun tilted his head slightly, his gaze peeking from behind the corpse toward the direction where gunfire had erupted, his lips curling into a malevolent smile.

The next instant, the corpse—nearly reduced to a skeleton by bullets—was hurled forward like a cannonball, followed by a flash of cold light!

Click!

After a series of brittle sounds, the killer, his bones shattered all over, collapsed like a puddle of sludge at Li Jun’s feet.

His eyes widened in unwilling defiance, his gray pupils reflecting countless mangled corpses and rolling heads.

[Obtained Mastery Points: 10]

A peak-tier Sequence Nine, now worth only ten mastery points in Li Jun’s hands.

Such a bloody massacre had netted him over seventy points in total.

But fortunately, these were merely appetizers, warming his body and whetting his appetite for the final true feast.

Li Jun raised the Embroidery Spring Blade, pointing it toward the hillside, his aura soaring to its zenith.

“Your subordinates are all dead. Have you still not found my weakness?”

“Baji Quan, Chu Wu Shadow, Fen Jin Cuo Gu Shou—injecting such profound martial arts, and mastering them to this extent. That fat fool, Jin Sheng Huo, died at your hands. Not unjustly.”

Zhao Tong, seated cross-legged under a low tree, slowly rose to his feet, gazing down at Li Jun with disdain.

“There are rumors that you inherited the legacy of the Chu Wu Sect from Shu. Now it seems the tale is true.”

Upon hearing Zhao Tong recite his martial arts like a family heirloom, Li Jun’s brows knit sharply, his face darkening.

“What are you?”

“Me?” Zhao Tong laughed, stepping down the hillside.

“If we follow the Chuan-Yu Gambling House’s rules, a mongrel like you should bow and call me ‘Master.’”

“If we follow the old sect’s customs, a junior like you should kneel and address me as ‘Senior Brother.’”

“Senior Brother? More like a traitor, surely!”

Li Jun suddenly understood, his lips curling into a sneer. “The stench of rotting flesh on you—I can smell it even from this distance!”

“Li Jun, you and I know better than anyone what the martial sequences have become today. The Three Teachings flourish, their influence growing daily. This sequence has clearly become a dead end.”

Zhao Tong descended the hillside, speaking with a tone of admonishment: “If you cling to the old ways, persisting in futility, this hard-won awakened gene may one day be used as another’s wedding dress.”

Li Jun sneered, “So this is why you defected from the sequence?”

“The birth of the Weapon Sequence was meant to replace the Martial Sequence. You’ve never experienced the beauty of mechanization; you don’t know how suitable this path is for us.”

Zhao Tong’s face showed emotion, “Perhaps the Weapon Sequence is the true way forward for us martial artists!”

“You’re no martial artist—only a monster neither human nor ghost. The Weapon Sequence isn’t my path, but a trap dug by the Three Teachings for cowards like you.”

Li Jun’s eyes locked onto the figure descending the hillside, his feet also stepping forward.

With each step, the unrighteous flames around him blazed brighter, and the killing intent in his gaze thickened.

Zhao Tong, a defector from the Martial Sequence—this was something Li Jun had not anticipated.

Yet at this moment, his heart held no maudlin grief for the fallen, only contempt and disdain.

This path was impassable, so he would draw his blade and carve a new one.

Out of the question—salvation was never sought from others, but forged through one’s own strides.

Without a surge of blood, kneeling before others, what right had he to call himself a martial artist?

“Look at you, so defiant and unruly. How nostalgic.” Zhao Tong’s voice carried a sigh. “Many years ago, I saw those who abandoned the Martial Sequence—they wore the same expression, eager to kill.”

"But when you have truly faced the malice of the Three Teachings, you will understand what it means for circumstances to outweigh personal strength."

"Becoming a traitor, and yet you've managed to find a life lesson? Words that don't hit the mark, half a sentence more."

Li Jun twisted his wrist, the blade singing out in sharp, resonant bursts. "Isn't it better to use it to teach?"

"You people, after all these years still can't learn to behave, still so fond of using fists instead of brains."

Zhao Tong shook his head, smiling wryly, his hands extending from his sleeves, two straight blades slowly emerging from his palms.

"My origin is in martial arts, just right to kill you who ends with martial arts!"

The words had barely fallen when a piercing sound tore through the rumbling rain!

Clang!

Li Jun raised an eyebrow, the Embroidered Spring Blade blocking the incoming edge at incredible speed.

Blinding sparks burst from the clash of blades, illuminating both pairs of eyes brimming with lethal intent!