Chapter 477: Completely Wrong

Chapter 477: A Grave Mistake

"Chief, is the intel from Section Two accurate this time?"

Heavy Armor glanced back at the ensign trailing behind him, his voice low: "Red Eye, what do you want to say?"

"Nothing much, just that the agents of the Roc have been silent in the Wa region for a long time, and now they've suddenly popped up out of nowhere—I can't help feeling it's odd."

Red Eye, though Heavy Armor's ensign in charge of external operations, bore a harmless, cherubic face; even fully armed, he lacked any trace of fierce, intimidating presence.

Yet everyone in the Jinyiwei of Himeji Castle knew that this ever-smiling ensign dealt with the enemy's hands with ruthless cruelty—tortures like tendon‑pulling and bone‑extraction were routine for him.

His missions often left no survivors, and he scorned the customary prisons used by other Jinyiwei, causing the Intelligence Section to constantly complain, repeatedly filing grievances before Captain Qilong of the Hundred‑Household Office.

Had it not been for Heavy Armor's protection, he would surely have been stripped of his ensign rank long ago.

Red Eye met Heavy Armor's gaze and smiled: "By rights, the Wa region no longer offers the conditions for the Roc to make a comeback, yet Peace King Sugawara no Masahiro appears now—it simply makes no sense."

"Even according to the intel from Section Two, the whole affair began when Commissioner Wu Bishan's achievements were seized, prompting him in a fit of rage to clutch at straws, ally with Sugawara no Masahiro, and stir up trouble to topple Zhou Heyu."

Red Eye licked his lips, smirking: "We all know Wu Bishan isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, yet even a dimwit from the Confucian aristocracy would hardly resort to such a childish move."

Heavy Armor's face grew slightly grave; as commander, he naturally knew the doubts Red Eye voiced, and he possessed far more information than the ensign.

This intelligence was supplied by Zhou Heyu, the current Pacification Commissioner of Himeji Castle.

Zhou Heyu hailed from the Runan Zhou clan, one of the foremost elite families within the New Donglin faction; his illustrious birth made him assertive from the moment he set foot in Himeji Castle.

He first denied Commissioner Wu Bishan any chance to contend, indiscriminately purging Wu's trusted aides from the Pacification Office's roster and filling key posts with his own confidants brought from the imperial heartland, thereby utterly stripping Wu of authority.

Such a move not only ruined all of Wu Bishan's preparations but also revealed Zhou Heyu's intent to keep every credit for himself, clearly aiming to swallow whole the fruits of Wu's reforms.

This ruthless, overbearing tactic naturally bred resentment in Wu Bishan, turning their relationship into one of fire and water.

Such infighting among Confucian factions, the Himeji Jinyiwei would naturally stay out of.

But after Zhou Heyu swiftly seized full authority over the Pacification Office, he did not pause; instead he marched straight to the Hundred‑Household Office and demanded that Qilong bring all the Jinyiwei under his allegiance.

He promised that, once the new policies concluded, Qilong could lead his Jinyiwei into the Runan Zhou household—provided they accepted Zhou Heyu's Confucian seal.

Qilong, who already held no love for Confucian clans, could never agree; moreover, the other's attitude was arrogantly condescending, speaking as if bestowing a morsel of rice upon the Himeji Jinyiwei were a grand act of charity.

Thus their first meeting ended in discord.

This time, Zhou Heyu's request for the Jinyiwei to investigate Wu Bishan came in the form of a joint dispatch issued under the Pacification Office's seal.

Since the case involved the Roc, even though Qilong suspected Zhou Heyu might be using him to eliminate rivals, he could only hold his nose and comply.

Originally Qilong intended to send a couple of Jinyiwei just to go through the motions, but Section Two Chief Yun Cong offered a different opinion.

"The chance that Wu Bishan colluded with the Roc is slim, but Zhou Heyu's involvement is likely! Peace King Sugawara no Masahiro is a Confucian insider; for years the Thousand‑Household Office has suspected a Confucian clan behind him, which explains how he rebounds with lightning speed after each Wa‑region Jinyiwei sweep."

"If Zhou Heyu truly intends to use the Roc's name to silence Wu Bishan's kin and wipe him out completely, then all evidence will be solidified. If we can capture a live witness and wring the Zhou clan's name from his lips, that would be a boon for us."

These were Yun Cong's words, spoken in the presence of Qilong and Heavy Armor.

And precisely for this reason, Heavy Armor this time took his ten finest Jinyiwei—including Ensign Red Eye—straight to the hiding place of the Roc mentioned in the intelligence.

A factory on the outskirts of Himeji Castle, once belonging to Sensen Heavy Industry, now an asset of the Pacification Office.

"Our duty is to execute, not to doubt."

Heavy Armor offered no further explanation, merely grunted a line, then chambered a round and, voice low, told those behind him: "Get to work!"

"You lot keep your eyes peeled; if anything goes wrong, shield the chief and pull back at once—understood?"

"Yes!"

Red Eye watched Heavy Armor's striding, worried back, drew his embroidered spring blade with a clang, snapped his left‑arm guard to raise a 'Wu Mu' shield large enough to cover half his body, and hurried after.

Under the night sky, the factory lay unusually still.

The plant chiefly manufactured infrastructure equipment and was no small operation.

After Sensen Heavy Industry changed hands, it downsized its holdings, selling all its factories outside Edo at low prices to the local Pacification Office. Yet at that time the one in charge of Himeji Castle was Wu Bishan, who poured all his thoughts into pushing the new reforms and neglected these properties, causing the factory to decay as profits fell, weeds overrunning the vast yard and scrap machinery piling up like mountains.

Screech!

Above the factory grounds, a scout night owl wheeled beneath the clouds, its scarlet vision linked in real time to the eyes of the Jinyiwei on the ground.

Nothing amiss, not even a decent light‑dark post—just a completely deserted, derelict factory.

"Chief, there's a ghost."

Red Eye's tone was utterly certain.

"Haven't we seen this sort of thing before? If there's a ghost, we bust ghosts!"

Heavy Armor remained unmoved, thrusting his left palm forward; those behind instantly formed a spear‑wedge formation, with him as the tip, and surged ahead.

Bang!

A 'Night‑Blaze' grenade was tossed into the warehouse, a blinding white flash flaring then fading. Two 'Wu Mu' shields led the way, covering the Jinyiwei filing in behind.

A reek of blood!

All the Jinyiwei almost simultaneously caught that heavy, metallic stench in the air, and the sight before them made their hearts sink.

In the night owl's thermal view there was no heat signature, yet inside the warehouse that should have been empty lay corpses strewn everywhere, blood flowing in rivers.

Judging by their clothing and appearance, these were clearly the trusted aides of Himeji Castle's Commissioner Wu Bishan!

Had they fallen into some illusion like the Buddhist realm of the earth, or was something shielding the factory's interior?

Why did our reconnaissance gear give no warning?

Heavy Armor had no time to ponder these questions, for amidst the pile of bodies a figure suddenly stood!

"Here you are?"

A dagger stained with blotched blood clattered to the floor, ringing out.

In the pitch‑dark, nothing obscured his view; Heavy Armor made out the face clearly—it was none other than one of the wanted leaders of the Roc, the Peace King's faction, listed by the Thousand‑Household Office.

"Damn it!"

The bizarre scene ignited Heavy Armor's fury; he lunged forward, kicked the Roc operative who had surrendered to the ground, and swiftly raked his left hand across the man's facial bones.

It was his natural visage, untouched by any surgical alteration!

At the same moment, the surrounding Jinyiwei finished identifying the corpses—genuine, every one of them Wu Bishan's men!

Yet why would the Peace King's Roc underlings kill Wu Bishan's people? Could it be internal strife?

"Speak—where is Wu Bishan now?"

The cold muzzle pressed against the Roc's skull, a charging whine rising in his ears; the chambered explosive bolt held enough power to blast the body into a spray of blood.

"Don't rush—this isn't the time for interrogation. And, Chief Heavy Armor, are you looking for me?"

In Heavy Armor's astonished gaze, the head on the muzzle twisted its neck to look back; the face that met his eyes rippled like water and, in an instant, became Wu Bishan's likeness!

But what truly shocked Heavy Armor was the seal‑style 'Zhou' character glowing on the man's forehead.

A Confucian seal—death‑sworn retainer of the clan!

"You point a gun at me—are you plotting with the Roc to rebel?"

Wu Bishan's words had barely left his lips when a blinding shaft of light shot from the factory doors, followed instantly by a torrent of gunfire!

Protect the lord!

Red Eye roared, charging from the flank, shield raised to block the heavy‑armored one.

“Yuncong, any word from the heavy‑armored side yet?”

Inside the Himeji Castle garrison office, Qilong sat behind the desk, gazing at Yuncong, the deputy commander of the Second Division, standing before him.

“Not yet, but the Night Owl scouts have just reported that they’ve begun moving; I expect results soon.”

“Hmm.”

Qilong rubbed his furrowed brow, a quiet unease stirring within him; he felt this tit‑for‑tat scheme was recklessly hasty, and he began to regret his decision.

“Order the First Division to stand ready to move at a moment’s notice; if the heavy‑armored side runs into trouble, reinforce them immediately.”

“I’ll see to it at once.”

Yuncong answered with a faint smile, speaking softly: “Actually, sir, you needn’t worry; the heavy‑armored one is always steady, and even if something unexpected occurs he’ll handle it calmly. Besides, having Red Eye— that sharp‑eyed kid— at his side makes mishaps all the less likely.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Yuncong, observing Qilong’s still‑grave expression, took a subtle step back and said: “Sir, the Pacification Office just reached out to me, asking me to relay a few words to you.”

“They contacted you?”

A sudden flash of insight ignited in Qilong’s eyes, making Yuncong shudder and retreat a few more steps.

“What did Zhou Heyu ask you to convey?” Qilong asked, masking the chill in his gaze with a neutral tone.

Yuncong hurriedly replied: “Zhou Heyu says he spoke those words out of thoughtlessness and a moment’s impulse; he hopes you’ll bear no grudge, for we all serve the empire, and let no verbal spat hinder the new policies.”

“And what else?”

“He hopes you’ll reconsider the retreat route for the Himeji Castle Embroidered Guard; he knows your loyalty to Commander Su runs deep, but since Commander Su himself has accepted the disbandment, why persist? Even if you don’t think of your own future, think of the brothers in the office.”

“Those words sound less like Zhou Heyu’s and more like yours, don’t they?”

Qilong cut Yuncong off, his icy gaze sweeping over him from head to toe.

“I know you’ve long harbored the notion of joining the Zhou clan and serving Zhou Heyu.”

In a slow, heavy tone, Yuncong broke into a cold sweat, his face ashen as paper: “Sir, I—”

“No need to explain; it’s only human, and I understand.”

Qilong raised a hand to halt Yuncong, then continued: “Yuncong, you’ve been with the Himeji Castle Embroidered Guard for nearly ten years, haven’t you?”

“I arrived in the Wa region in the second year of Jiashi; it’s been exactly ten years.”

“How fleeting, like a white colt passing through a crevice.”

Qilong sighed and asked: “How have I treated you over these ten years?”

“Like brothers, as close as limbs,” Yuncong murmured, head bowed.

“And you have treated me the same.”

Qilong’s tone softened: “These past ten years, though our office has achieved nothing spectacular, we have at least honored the saber at our waist. During the period when the Ming king and his allies ganged up on us, the Himeji Castle garrison’s accounts— aside from compensation for fallen brothers— were nearly barren, yet your Second Division never complained, nor let our intelligence lag behind anyone else’s; I remember all of that.”

“I know you entered the Wa region after being persecuted, and all these years you’ve held your breath, longing to return home in glory, to give those scoundrels a proper beating and vent the old resentment.”

Yuncong kept his head down, silent, the veins in his fists standing out as his knuckles cracked.

“So you’re thinking of throwing in your lot with the Zhou clan; I’m not surprised— after all, it’s wise to take shelter under a big tree, and having an escape route is better than none. If you’d just come straight to me, I’d let you go, and I’d even equip you with enough men to secure a foothold before Zhou Heyu.”

A cold gleam gathered in Qilong’s brow as he rose slowly, hands braced on the desk: “But you’ve erred in one thing— you must not barter your brothers’ lives for your own ticket to wealth and glory.”

At this moment, Qilong finally understood the source of the lingering unease that had plagued his heart!

It was none other than the man he regarded as brother— Yuncong, commander of the Second Division of Himeji Castle!

“Qilong, that remark of yours—I can’t agree; what fault does he have?!”

The doors burst open, and Zhou Heyu strode in, resplendent in official robes, followed by a pallid, black‑clad attendant whose aura was chilling.

“A wise bird chooses its tree; knowing when to hold on and when to let go is the finest virtue of a person. Wouldn’t you agree, Commander Yuncong?”

Yuncong, who had kept his eyes down and his tongue tied, now stood behind Zhou Heyu, finally summoning the courage to meet Qilong’s gaze, his visage twisted with fury.

“What wrong have I done?”

Boom!

A wave of flame swept over, scorching the heavy‑armored figure, only to be severed by a sudden flash of cold light.

The heavy‑armored one now bore wounds across his body; torn flesh revealed cracked alloy bone beneath. Most lethal was a narrow, deep slash to his chest, through which one could see his mechanical heart frantically beating, driven into overdrive.

“Boss, this ghost is fierce— not easy to catch.”

Around the guarded heavy‑armored warrior lay only cold corpses, save for Red Eye, equally drenched in blood, his cherubic face bearing a careless grin.

Pfft!

The heavy‑armored one laid his blade across an enemy’s shoulder, seized the foe’s hair, wrenched the neck toward the edge, and flung the severed head far away.

The rolling head struck a toe.

The next moment, the expressionless Wu Bishan kicked it aside nonchalantly.

“Heavy‑armored, Lord Zhou commands: spare your life if you slay this Embroidered Guard, and the post of Himeji Castle commandant shall be yours.”

Wu Bishan, now reduced to a hound of the Zhou clan, pointed at Red Eye.

In his right hand he gripped a short sword whose blade matched the length of the wound in the heavy‑armored one’s chest.

“My life’s worth a commandant’s post?! Boss, this deal’s a steal!”

Red Eye glanced back at the heavy‑armored one, chuckling: “Boss, don’t hesitate— chances like this don’t come around often.”

“Shut up!”

The heavy‑armored one’s eyes flared red as he locked onto Wu Bishan, whispering low: “I’ll cover your retreat; burst out of the workshop and report straight to the commandant.”

“I can’t go.”

A feeble voice reached his ears, carrying a stillness he could not accept.

He moved his gaze mechanically, and there he saw the ghastly gash that nearly split Red Eye’s belly open.

Such an injury would be fatal for a mere Level‑Six Red Eye.

“This organ I painstakingly cultivated— it must not hit the ground.”

Red Eye muttered, pressing his left hand’s five fingers against the wound, shoving the slipping intestines back inside.

He lifted his head, his pupils already unfocused: “Damn it, why can’t I see anything?”

Smack.

Red Eye raised a hand and slapped himself, yet the darkness before his eyes would not lift; he could only turn his face toward the heavy‑armored one, his mouth twitching uselessly, unable to form a full smile.

“Boss, don’t be stubborn— staying alive is what matters most.”

Human voices hit the ground, mechanical whines surged.

Hot blood gushed from the wound, then the roaring wind turned it into a mist of crimson.

The heavy‑armored one’s eyes burned crimson, his embroidered saber on the verge of shattering, bearing a final, fierce scream as he lunged at Wu Bishan, who stood amid the crowd.

“They were all killed.”

Wu Bishan spoke with calm detachment, too disdainful to spare his foe a glance, and turned away without another look.

Gunfire erupted like thunder, drowning out the clamor of the fearless rebels and swallowing the desperate flash of knives thrown in a last‑ditch gamble.

“It seems the only clever soul in the whole Himeji Castle garrison is you, Yun Cong.”

Zhou Heyu grimaced at the mangled corpse on the ground, then turned to the elderly servant in black robes now stained dark red, and said with a smile, “You’ve worked hard, Old Chen.”

“It’s nothing, not worthy of your praise, young master.”

A cold, sharp voice rang in his ears; the dazed Yun Cong shuddered, snapped back to awareness, and, eyes wide, looked up at the already‑turned Zhou Heyu, crying out in terror, “My lord!”

“On the fifteenth day of the sixth month in the twelfth year of Jiaqi, the former Himeji Castle garrison commander Qilong refused to accept the disbandment order and the resignation investigation, and killed himself in the office out of fear of punishment. The chief of the first unit, Zhongjia, colluded with the Honghu, attacked Zhou Heyu, the commissioner of Himeji Castle, and was executed on the spot. The chief of the second unit, Yun Cong, understood the greater good, actively cooperated with Commissioner Zhou Heyu in his work, and has therefore been reported to the Ministry of War with a recommendation that he be promoted to garrison commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard in Himeji Castle.”

Zhou Heyu wore a faint smile and asked, “Yun Cong, as garrison commander, what do you think of this report I’ve written? Are there any mistakes?”

“My lord, there is certainly no mistake!”

Yun Cong’s face lit up with wild joy; he lifted his robe, dropped to his knees, and kowtowed before Zhou Heyu.

Beneath his knees, scarlet blood soaked his garments, inch by inch devouring the flying‑fish pattern that marked his identity as an Embroidered Uniform Guard.