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墨書 Inktalez
Yan Kong followed closely behind Lian, his steps slightly heavy yet steady. His gaze swept around, and his stern face was marked with vigilance and impatience. The small recycling robot trailed quietly behind him, its tracks emitting a faint whirring sound, like a loyal shadow closely following.
The trio moved along the tranquil wooden walkway, the ancient wood creaking softly with each step, as if whispering the unique secrets of this corridor. Several calligraphy scrolls adorned the walls, their sharp and austere characters perfectly matching the atmosphere. A gentle breeze wafted in from a nearby gap, carrying with it the distinctive chill of Wu Jing and a metallic freshness.
Suddenly, a corner appeared ahead, and Lian paused at the turn, slightly turning to glance back at Yan Kong, seemingly checking if he was keeping up. Yan Kong said nothing; he merely furrowed his brow but continued forward without hesitation.
As they rounded the corner, an expansive balcony came into view. Beyond it lay a training ground of Wu Jing, surrounded by towering steel frames. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the framework, casting a layer of cold brilliance over the entire area.
On the training ground, dozens of Fog City Soldiers stood in neat rows, wielding swords and knives as they practiced in an orderly manner. Their movements were clean and precise; each swing of their blades sliced through the air with a cold arc of light. The sound of blades cutting through the air was distinctly audible, as if each strike was tearing apart the silence of this realm.
"Ha!"
The soldiers shouted in unison, their voices deep and powerful, imbued with an intimidating pressure that sent shivers down one's spine. Their synchronized cries rose with each swing of their weapons, echoing like thunder across the training ground, harmonizing with the glint of their blades.
Yan Kong halted his steps, his gaze piercing through the balcony railing as he coldly scrutinized the soldiers. A hint of disdain flickered in his eyes as if he were assessing whether these individuals were worthy opponents. However, his gaze soon shifted to a figure in the distance—a commander draped in a Black Cloak stood calmly at the edge of the field, holding a long knife and watching every movement of the soldiers with hawk-like intensity.
"How boring," Yan Kong muttered under his breath, a note of sarcasm lacing his tone. Lian heard him but did not respond; instead, she smiled slightly before turning to continue onward.
The small robot paused momentarily at Yan Kong's feet and emitted two beeps as if offering some commentary on the training before its tracks began to move again quietly behind him. Yan Kong cast one last glance at the training ground before retracting his gaze and quickening his pace to catch up with Lian.
Following Lian's footsteps, Yan Kong ascended slowly along a narrow staircase, each step causing the wooden boards to creak softly beneath him. At the top of the stairs lay a noticeably wider corridor with smooth and hard flooring flanked by rows of ready Fog City Soldiers. Each soldier stood tall with sharp gazes; their swords gleamed with cold brilliance, creating an atmosphere that was suffocatingly serious.
As Lian stepped into the corridor, the soldiers instinctively raised their hands in salute—an action executed with mechanical precision. Their eyes fell upon Lian with respect and obedience. However, when their gazes shifted to Yan Kong trailing behind her, there was an added layer of wariness and scrutiny in their expressions, even tinged with a hint of disdain.
Yan Kong suddenly felt the weight of those gazes upon him. He stopped in his tracks and coldly scanned the soldiers. His sharp eyes sliced through their faces like blades. With his chin slightly raised, his gaze was filled with provocation and disdain, as if silently warning the soldiers—do not look at me that way.
"What? Have you never seen a Yankeeper like me?" Yan Kong thought to himself with a sneer, his brow furrowing slightly as his expression grew colder. His hand slowly moved to his waist, fingertips brushing against the only knife he had left, feeling the cold metal and a surge of indescribable anger rising within him.
Indeed, he now possessed only one knife. For a swordsman known for collecting blades, this was an outright humiliation. Once, his waist had been adorned with trophies; each knife represented a victory, a tale of legend. But now, those blades were long gone, and he hadn’t even had time to inquire about their whereabouts.
"Damn it..." Yan Kong muttered under his breath, fingers gently gripping the knife's hilt but ultimately refraining from drawing it. He understood that this was not a place for reckless anger nor a time for easy confrontation. Yet this feeling of suppression weighed heavily on him, like a massive stone pressing down on his chest, making each step feel unbearably heavy.
The small recycling robot quietly followed behind Yan Kong, its treads softly whirring as its body occasionally emitted a low hum. It seemed to sense Yan Kong's discontent, turning its tiny lens as if secretly observing him.
Lian walked ahead, seemingly oblivious to the tension behind her. Her steps were steady, her gaze fixed forward as she occasionally nodded in acknowledgment to the soldiers. Her expression retained that elusive calmness, as if everything was under control.
At the end of the corridor stood two massive Giants, looming like iron towers at the entrance of the Tatami Room. Their black Armored suits glinted coldly; upon closer inspection, the surface was marred with scars and battle damage, silently narrating countless bloody encounters. These scars were not mere decorations but bore witness to brutal confrontations involving blades, explosives, and life-and-death struggles.
The sight of their cybernetic bodies was even more shocking; the exposed metal limbs gleamed with a cold light, each joint appearing exceptionally precise and powerful. Their imposing stature combined with their enhancements made them look like gods of war. Their very presence exuded an oppressive aura that suffocated the air around them, filling it with the scent of death that sent chills down one’s spine.
Lian reached the door and paused, nodding slightly in greeting to the two Giants. Her movements were graceful and calm, as if she had long been accustomed to these formidable guards. However, the Giants remained unresponsive, standing like statues with cold gazes devoid of any emotion.
Their eyes shifted towards Yan Kong behind Lian; those gazes were ruthless and sharp, like invisible blades piercing through him. Standing behind Lian and facing those piercing stares felt as though he had been scanned from head to toe by countless invisible detectors.
He lifted his chin defiantly and met their gaze without flinching. A slight smirk curled at the corners of his mouth as he placed his hands on his hips, seemingly indifferent to the scrutiny from the two Giants. Yet deep down, he knew these men were not mere bullies relying on their size. The marks on their Armored suits and cybernetic bodies silently warned anyone daring to underestimate them—there would be no second chances here.
The two Giants stood at the entrance with icy expressions; their voices were deep and metallic as they spoke almost simultaneously: "Please surrender your weapons."
The words struck like a cold wind, causing the flames of anger within Yan Kong to surge instantly. His brows furrowed sharply, and a flicker of rage flashed in his eyes. From the very beginning, he had felt a deep resentment over the confiscation of his weapons, and now these two towering guards wanted to take away the only knife left at his waist?
"Dream on," Yan Kong scoffed inwardly, a provocative smirk appearing on his face. He slowly shook his head and then raised his hand to rest on the hilt of his sword, his movements unhurried yet filled with hidden menace.
"This is my only knife," he said in a low voice, carrying a chill as his gaze pierced through the two Giants. "If you dare to touch it, I can't guarantee things won't get... interesting."
Standing nearby, Lian shook her head gently, a helpless smile tugging at her lips as if she were not surprised by the scene unfolding before her. She sighed softly, seemingly having anticipated Yan Kong's reaction. Her calm eyes swept over the two Giants, quietly assessing what was about to happen.
The Giants reacted swiftly and silently; their mechanical bodies activated instantly, joints emitting low mechanical sounds as they assumed battle stances. Clad in black armor that resembled cold iron, their forms glinted ominously under the light as they gripped curved alloy blades, the sharp edges sending chills down one's spine.
"You want to play with me?" Yan Kong's lips curled into a slight smile, revealing a hint of madness. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, knuckles turning white as every muscle in his body tensed like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. His eyes sparkled with battle intent, as if this pressure invigorated him.
"Interesting, truly interesting," Yan Kong laughed loudly, the sound echoing through the corridor like the onset of war.
As the Giants entered combat mode, soldiers flanking them swiftly drew their swords in unison, blades reflecting cold light under the lamps. Their gazes were fierce and focused squarely on Yan Kong, and the pressure in the air surged to its peak.
A small recovery robot stood at Yan Kong's feet, its camera shaking slightly as if sensing the imminent danger. It emitted a few urgent beeps before retracting its entire body, tracks ceasing to move as it collapsed onto the ground, silently praying to escape this disaster.
Yan Kong laughed heartily, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before him, his laughter laced with mockery and arrogance. His hand pressed firmly against the hilt of his sword as he leaned slightly forward, as if ready to explode at any moment.
"Come on!" he said in a low voice, excitement and provocation unmistakable in his tone. "I want to see just how capable you really are!"
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