Chapter 489: The City Bathed in Blood (End) (Thanks to the Supreme Pumpkin Porridge Master for the Patron!)

Chapter 489: The City Bathed in Blood Red (End) (Thank You to the Great Boss of the Pumpkin Congee for the Leader!)

Though the sky had not yet fully brightened, the remnants of night still lingered.

Yet Ba Du’s gaze was already illuminated by countless cold glints.

The rolling gun shadows pressed forward in wave after wave, pushing his three-united soldier from the Six Tao Group backward.

“Back then, in the Shu Lu Court, I was the most overlooked among my senior peers. Five years to ascend to the Martial Rank, ten more to breach the seventh tier—until thirty, still barred by the rituals from entering the sixth.”

Li Jun’s eyes were as cold as blades, his wrist twisting to shake off the knife clinging to his arm. The muzzle of his gun flashed a chilling light, piercing straight into Ba Du’s eyes.

The latter’s face split open again, a maze of tiny cracks no ear could discern the sound of which, as the unseen roar surged forward, warping the gunfire’s path and driving it straight to his neck.

Ba Du’s right hand slashed his sword in a heavy blow, his left seizing the retreating firearm. A peculiar tremor rippled from the overclocked mechanical heart up the weapon’s shaft, racing toward Li Jun’s body.

*Thud!*

The raised sword cleaved the earth, the fallen spear arcing into the air.

Yet Ba Du’s gaze, unable to track Li Jun’s vanished form, grew momentarily frantic. A dull explosion erupted at his side.

Li Jun bowed, twisted, and unleashed a fist—city-shaking, fortress-tearing—crushing through layer upon layer of armor. Just as it surged toward Ba Du’s body, he dodged with a hair’s breadth.

The empty punch struck air, detonating a roaring boom.

Shu Lu Court’s fourth-ranked martial arts, city-shattering.

*Clang!*

Li Jun wrenched his back, his free hand catching the falling spear. He lifted his right leg above his knee, stepping forward like climbing a mountain. The figure vanished again in an instant.

Shu Lu Court’s fourth-ranked martial arts, mountain-climbing.

“At that time, I had no standing within the sect at all. I watched helplessly as contemporaries entered the Military Department’s chambers, received noble titles, while I remained a martial instructor for the young, only to be surpassed by them all. My heart boiled with resentment, unwilling to spend my life thus. To gain an edge, I donned a fish-scale robe, joined the imperial guard—a rank the Martial Order deemed beneath them.”

Li Jun clung like a shadow, always near Ba Du.

Though Ba Du’s reactions lagged behind the spear’s speed, the mechanical heart’s turmoil spread like an invisible web, the gunfire seeming to slow as if trapped in amber.

Swords clashed, gunfire rang, trembling soundwaves.

Yet outside the carnage, the old man’s voice continued recounting his memories.

“The Ming Empire back then wasn’t stagnant like now. Every day buzzed with activity. When discussing matters, the old emperor sat on the throne, the scholars, monks, and commoners below erupted in chaos. Today, the Confucian scholars sought a position, their own men completing the ritual—only to be trampled in the dirt. The Legalists kicked them, shouting, ‘If you dare misstep again, we’ll swap your lives!’ Tomorrow, the monks proposed building a temple for donations—only to be beaten senseless, nearly becoming a Buddha on the spot. The Martial Order, used to tyranny, grew fat, waiting for others to speak. Whoever erred, they’d roll up their sleeves and strike, the common folk beating them mercilessly. The Emperor didn’t care, leaning on his dragon chair, smiling.”

Su Ke leaned against the silent corpse of the general, smiling: “I didn’t understand their quarrels then, nor had the right to stand on that podium, just basking in the sun outside, listening to the spectacle. Now I recall, those days were comfortable, yet the northern plains’ sunlight never warmed. No matter how much I sunbathed, I felt cold to the bone. Later I learned, the empire had long been a shadow beyond the dragon’s reach, its storms and thunder unceasing.”

*Clang!*

Ba Du blocked another gunshot raining from the heavens, his grip on the sword trembling. His mind reeled—Li Jun, once his own, now surged ahead in close combat.

Worse still, his restrained mechanical heart’s power seemed powerless against this man. His genes felt an inexplicable pressure, attempting to force his mechanical heart out of overclocked state.

This feeling was maddening, yet sharp and clear, like a father’s primal awe and fear of his son.

Ba Du’s brow furrowed, shaking off these nameless thoughts, glancing at the still-prattling elder and the massive armor beside him.

Su Ke had become a dying ember in the wind, his urgent task seizing the general’s corpse.

This was the death sentence from within the Six Tao.

“I couldn’t fathom it, nor play their game. Daily, they captured lawless fugitives, solved local garrison issues with brute force. Years later, I clawed my way to a general’s rank—still scorned by sect elders, yet I felt fine. My strength grew through accumulated merit, refined by the Agricultural Order’s slow progress, inching to the fifth tier.”

“My dream was to command the Northern Pacification Office, though Confucian scholars always jabbed at the imperial guard’s spine, calling us dogs. If I could hold the highest post, I’d smash their bureaucratic pens, make them call me ‘Su the Great’ with a sneer. Ah, that taste—thinking of it made my whole body relieved.”

“Later, I met the general. He was a disdained rogue in the middle department, rumored to have killed several top warriors, so no one dared associate with him. I saw my chance—others rejected me, others feared me! A Martial Order’s armor was no small fortune.”

Su Ke glanced at the silent general beside him, smiling: “To decide who was senior, we fought. He bled from his face, I crippled his legs—ended in a draw. Both of us, flawed, became close allies.”

“It was then I learned the Mechanical Order was aiding the Martial Order in developing a ‘Toumu’ ability. I thought, seizing the upper realm to plunder the lower—what’s the point? Better yet, find an old fool to reverse-engineer it, skip years of struggle. Alas, fate denied me. When I buried myself in the earth halfway, I missed such a chance. Now, you—Li Jun—you’re the lucky one, haha.”

A booming laugh echoed behind him. Li Jun dared not look back, his rage transforming into the force of his iron rifle, carving a grievous wound across Ba Du’s chest, shattering the humming drone.

Ba Du roared in fury, his sword arcing to meet the attack, his fist pounding the air like a wailing specter from the Underworld, assaulting Li Jun’s mind.

“Until one day, everything changed.”

Su Ke’s tone lost its levity, calmly stating: “Once, the monks, Daoists, Confucians, and Legalists—once loud and boisterous—suddenly shrank to a single nostril’s breath. Even the once-invisible soldiers dared leap forward, pointing at the Martial Order’s face. The halls echoed with two words: ‘cleansing.’ Local bloodshed erupted, factions encircled the Martial Order. Overnight, they became a scurrying rat in the streets, everyone pounced like madmen.”

“I was tracking rebel remnants in a vassal state. When news of Shu Lu Court’s plea arrived, I learned the sect’s stronghold was besieged. The Buddhist realm, once a temple to the Martial Order, became a nightmarish cage. In the pitch-black, the Dao Deity’s weapon shone unextinguished, its thunder—if converted to currency—could fill the valleys between mountains.”

“Deemed a dog by others, scorned in the sect, I had no den. If they destroyed my home, I couldn’t just watch. So I returned to the empire’s heart, defying the imperial guard’s commander, charging through the passes.”

Su Ke grinned, suddenly laughing: “Result? Fooled.”

*Clang!*

The clash of weapons erupted like a hammer on an anvil, stars igniting then snuffed by wind. Swords and rifles clashed like storm and gale, swift and chaotic.

Li Jun seemed to inhabit the body anew, his features brimming with grim resolve, his rifle a serpent’s strike, its edge wicked, its roar scattering the Underworld’s spirits.

*Clash!*

Ba Du’s dark skin split with wounds, no blood, flesh knitting then tearing anew.

Slowly, no matter how his mechanical heart pumped, the strange sinews couldn’t match the body’s decay.

“The rescue message was a trap set by Shu Lu Court’s boneheaded traitors, luring me like fish into their net.”

The distant sky brightened, yet the elder’s face, etched with deep gullies, had long since lost all light.

“That day, I rose to the third rank, becoming a figure once fit only to foot the crowd. Yet I couldn’t rejoice. These faces—all monstrous—were deservedly damned.”

Su Ke’s face held no joy or sorrow, calmly stating: “I severed countless Buddhist realms until no scholar dared approach me. Facing endless thunder, I crushed the leading Daoist sect attacking Shu Lu Court. Survivors cheered, praised me, flattered me. But their old disdain gnawed at me. So I cleaved their throats, sent them to the afterlife.”

“Perhaps in the underworld, Shu Lu Court’s ancestors will sneer, ‘Su Ke destroyed our sect.’ Never mind. They can’t defeat me, whether alive or dead.”

*Ach!*

The sword clattered, the spear snapped. Li Jun’s fists clenched, his punch—city-shattering—piercing Ba Du’s armor, rippling layer upon layer, striking his face.

The synthetic flesh tore, revealing iron beneath.

Ba Du, a wounded beast, gripped Li Jun’s arm, his overclocked mechanical heart unleashing silent shockwaves, surging up veins and bones, aiming to burst his skull.

A drop of crimson stained his ink-black eyes, flooding to blood-red, spilling into his clothes.

Li Jun’s face, a demon’s grimace, curved into a twisted smile, twisting Ba Du’s body downward, stepping up, yanking his hair, kneeing forward.

*Thud!*

The clash of armor rang like a bell, Ba Du’s massive form toppling backward, his features crushed, sharp ridges tearing flesh.

Li Jun twisted, kicked his leg, the air boiling, striking Ba Du’s skull again.

“When I knew the white and black waters were all stained red, I realized there was little left to gain. I left the empire, wandered far, saw many things. When the Emperor decided to turn all vassals into criminal districts, I thought, ‘Why not kill these outsiders?’”

“I slew the Japanese imperial family, let the Confucian scholars exile me to these wastelands. I saw their scheming, lacked the will to cleanse temples and sects. I was merely tired.”

His hollow words faded into the echoing fists. Only when Li Jun’s mechanical heart shattered did he straighten.

Yet he didn’t turn back, facing Su Ke with his back, standing amidst the rubble, a tiger in the chaos.

“My first half of life was bitter. From a waste among peers to a dog, drifting, slipping like ice. Since becoming a ruler, no one dared speak. Even if I died today, the path to the underworld trod on celestial and Buddhist lords!”

“Now I see, my destiny’s true name wasn’t a disaster—it was freedom. At least the name was right: Su Ke, haha. This time, have I etched my name in history?”

Su Ke laughed, waving dismissively: “Irrelevant. Irrelevant. Li Jun—you lacked the coin to live as I did. Now you’ve gained it. Remember: live freely, recklessly, cut down obstacles. Don’t emulate me—martial artists needn’t such fuss.”

“Come along. Master Chi, don’t rush me. Let me bid my final farewell; I must depart in a manner befitting my status.”

Su Ce smiled warmly, bowing deeply to the retreating figure: “Su Ce, master of the martial trio from the sect, bids farewell to Du Xing Wu Si, Master Xin, and Master Li.”

At this moment, the sound of shattered locks finally echoed in Li Jing’s ears.

The boiling blood did not erupt in triumphant laughter, but in anguished wails.

“Dao Xu Sanxiu Chen Qisheng, respectfully sends off Master Su.”

The young daoist gazed downward, whispering softly to no one in particular: “I’ll send him off too, Master Su, Dao Xu’s grandson, Lu You.”

Zou Sisi carefully fastened the loose buttons at his throat, his demeanor solemn, and shouted loudly: “Yin Yang Xu Zou Sisi, respectfully sends off Master Su.”

“Japanese District Guards’ Embroidery Maid Yuan Mingfeng, sends off the thousand households!”

“Japanese District Guards’ Embroidery Madam Fan Wujiu, her given name is Fan Yinchen, sends off the thousand households!”

“Japanese District Guards’ Embroidery Madam Xie Bian, her given name is Xie Xichao, sends off the thousand households!”

“Japanese District Guards’ Embroidery Madam Qiong Qi.”

“Japanese District Guards’ Embroidery Madam Bao Wei.”

Along the bustling street, voices roared like thunder, tears fell like rain.

Li Jing finally turned around, dare not lift his eyes, and knelt to bow his head, his trembling voice breaking the silence.

“Junior Li Jing, hereby respectfully sends off Master Su!”