Chapter 381: Good Words Hard to Swallow

Chapter 381: The Elusive Proverbs

Fú Hè's eye twitched incessantly, his teeth grinding with a sharp, audible snap.

Though he seemed consumed by fury, in truth, fury was all he could muster.

The lone warrior of the ink-armored fifth rank, if he truly meant to kill himself, the word "slaughter" would be fitting.

"Continue."

Qiú Lóng felt the weight in his hand, but before he could lower his head, he heard Lǐ Jún say: "I've taken his flying sword and magical implements, but as a Daoist fifth-rank official, he must have more. I'm not skilled at searching bodies, so I'll leave that to you."

Only then did Qiú Lóng see clearly—a purple flying sword, no longer than his forearm, a pair of thin ear ornaments, and a pile of exquisite talismans and seals.

"He must have more valuables on him. Make sure to extract everything before letting him go—this will be your compensation for the trouble you've caused."

Lǐ Jún paid no heed to Fú Hè's murderous glare behind him, brazenly assigning tasks to Qiú Lóng.

At that moment, the crowd from Zhīgè City entered the courtyard.

However, the leader was not the wild veteran Bǎihù, but a total of seven banners displayed in a macabre spectacle.

"You've come as well?"

Lǐ Jún glanced at the other party, his gaze lingering briefly on the bloodstain at the collar of the banner display.

"The benefits extracted should also be shared with them. Our affairs have nothing to do with the men below—don't let those wounded brothers bleed in vain."

"Understood."

Qiú Lóng nodded in agreement, then cast a glance toward the heavy armor.

The latter understood at once, hoisted his weapon, and approached Fú Hè.

The heavy armor looked up at the Daoist cultivator before him, a full head taller, and with a cold, expressionless face, his lips twitched for a long moment before he spat out: "All height, no brains."

Qiú Lóng erupted in fury: "What the hell are you babbling about, you bastard? Hurry up and bind him! First, remove his neural core!"

"Alright."

"Yán Jūn,"

Fú Hè finally spoke, his voice as cold as ice shards: "A warrior may be killed, but never humiliated."

"What's the point of a Daoist cultivator spouting Confucian phrases?"

Lǐ Jún sneered but halted the heavy armor's action: "These procedures are unnecessary. He won't resist. Don't let others say our Wa district's imperial guards lack grace."

Fú Hè pressed: "What about the matter we discussed earlier?"

"Pay the money for your life first, and we'll discuss the rest later."

Lǐ Jún waved his hand, turning to Qiú Lóng: "Lend me a carriage. Lǎo Sū has ordered me to return to Edo immediately."

"What's wrong?" Qiú Lóng froze.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Lǐ Jún stepped toward the door, his voice tinged with self-deprecating helplessness: "This time, I've stirred up quite a mess."

Heavy snow fell in thick flakes, and Huáng Guān walked alone through the streets of Ōsakajō.

Looking around, the entire long street was desolate, devoid of people. Even some shops that once thrived through the night now had their doors tightly shut.

The thunderous explosions and deafening gunfire of not long ago had sent the city's people fleeing like startled birds, none daring to venture out.

Pū.

Huáng Guān's foot sank into the snow, a foot thick, instantly swallowing his ankle. Beside him, a sign reading "Zài Héishǒu" (Looking Back) from a tavern spilled an eerie crimson glow, enveloping his figure.

"You're alive after all."

The howling wind and snow sliced his vision into fragmented shards.

Huáng Guān squinted, spotting a distant, shadowy black figure, his voice softening: "Shí Rè, you understand—under those circumstances, if we didn't cooperate, that gentleman would never have let us go. I was forced to strike you."

The cold wind across the long street stirred mournful wails, and Huáng Guān focused intently, yet heard no response.

Still seeking excuses, his words grew increasingly urgent: "I know you hate me for betraying you, but Shí Rè, you know I never meant to kill you. If I truly wanted you dead, how could you still be alive?"

"It was he who stopped you. Otherwise, I'd already be dead."

A grating voice replied, and Shí Rè finally responded.

"I've long calculated he wouldn't let you die. For years, the martial cultivators have been thoroughly studied by our Confucian scholars. Everything I did was merely a performance for that martial artist."

Huáng Guān waved the electronic document in his hand: "The matter is settled now, and the reward from Kynai Castle has arrived. I've never touched your share. We brothers can leave the Wa district and return to the imperial homeland to live freely."

"Didn't you want to establish a factory and become the master yourself? Now, not only can you open one, but you have enough for two!"

Pū.

The silent street echoed with footsteps trudging through snow as Shí Rè took a step forward.

"Those aren't my money."

"Zhèn Jūn is already dead!"

Huáng Guān suddenly roared, his voice rolling and powerful, successfully halting Shí Rè's advance.

"And do you know what he did behind our backs?"

Huáng Guān raged: "He wanted to involve us in the Daoist cultivators' disputes! Today, he was negotiating with the people of Yǒnglè Gōng! This is using our brothers' lives to repay his glory and wealth—this kind of person deserves to die!"

"It has nothing to do with me."

Shí Rè's voice was flat and calm.

"What about his collusion with Hōnghú?"

Huáng Guān shouted: "Exactly because Yú Cānghǎi became a traitor first, I had to betray him. Wasn't that justified?"

"Since he became a dog, do you want to become one too? There's no such logic in this world."

Shí Rè stepped forward through the snow, his figure gradually becoming clear in Huáng Guān's eyes.

Still those cold, unyielding familiar brows, and that even colder embroidered spring blade.

"I was only trying to find a way out for the two of us."

Huáng Guān's face showed sorrow, his right hand slowly moving behind his back.

Shí Rè shook his head: "Your way out has nothing to do with me."

"Neither does this, nor does that."

Huáng Guān sneered: "Fine, fine, fine—you Shí Rè, loyal and righteous, high and mighty. Then I ask you, what does have anything to do with you?"

"Your life and death—has everything to do with me!"

Shí Rè's tone rose with each word, until it became a shout, his unhurried steps suddenly quickening, dragging a bone-chilling blade to strike at Huáng Guān!

"Good words cannot persuade a doomed ghost. That Yán Jūn is merciful, so I'll send you to the underworld once more!"

Huáng Guān's hand behind his back swung forward, the icy muzzle of his gun jabbing toward his front!

Pāng! Zhēng!

Gunshots and blade songs clashed, and blood splattered into the sky.

This unnoticed duel lasted not long, nor did it display any terrifying might—everything happened suddenly, and swiftly faded into nothingness.

Huh.

Gluttony clutched a twisted arm, dragging a man drenched in blood, struggling to crawl through the tavern's doorway.

Upon the snow‑covered threshold, corpses frozen stiff lay, slowly melting.

That man—Gluttony's sole kin, the only kin he possessed.

Just as he was about to push the door open, a harrowing scream rang out upon the snow‑covered ground.

Gluttony whirled around abruptly.

A man in a sable robe stood there, pounding a young companion against the doorway's wall with relentless fists.

The youth—Gluttony's sole companion, the only one he had.

"Stop at once!" Gluttony shouted.

Yet the robed figure sneered, "Who dares intervene?"

Gluttony's voice trembled under the blow of the robed man's fist.

"I must contest a return in brocade; had I known, I’d have slipped through night in silk, walking home, steady and sure."

Gluttony exhaled a wisp of warmth, murmuring to himself, "What shall I do when I return? Till the soil? Build a factory? Actually, serving as a guard for others isn’t so terrible."

His words faded, like a dim mechanical hum within his chest.

"Alas, there is no chance left."

Gluttony slowly closed his eyes, his crimson‑stained visage awash with regret and lingering longing.