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Chapter 122: Promotion Form (Part 1)
Bang.
The man in the Black Jacket, leading the group, pulled the trigger of his gun, and the bullet struck Wei Yuan's forehead. Blood splattered everywhere, and like a tragic hero, he ended his final struggle, collapsing to the ground lifelessly. Then the theme song played, and the credits rolled.
This was a common ending in many action movies from the 1980s, but the situation at this moment was somewhat different; it was rather absurd and comical, despite the description being at odds with the environment.
"I can't die, absolutely can't die. I still need to find Xu Feng. I want revenge for what he did to my family. I will make him pay in blood for his debts."
Wei Yuan's mind kept repeating this belief, as if he had been brainwashed by some cult organization—deep and clear. The human spirit is indeed powerful; this obsession repeated over and over caused Wei Yuan to gradually forget the intense pain from where his head had been struck.
Previously, his head had been continuously injured, and that heart-wrenching agony combined with the obsession he was now forced to repeat made Wei Yuan suddenly feel an inexplicable sensation, akin to the breakthrough feeling when a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly. He realized that within his mind's Mist-like Space, Dark Ink-colored Mist was continuously being generated.
It was as lively as boiling water and seemed to be dispersed. It felt as if he had found a breakthrough point in his mind, surging forth until it came into contact with air and transformed into Transparent Substance, completely enveloping the Black-Clad Man's gun barrel.
At this moment, Wei Yuan felt the surging Dark Ink-colored Mist; every wisp that left the Mist-like Space would cause the original Silver-gray Mist to be re-catalyzed, subsequently giving rise to new Dark Ink-colored Mist.
Wei Yuan still couldn't understand what was happening; however, he clearly knew that the man in black would not let him go. The man had already made up his mind to kill Wei Yuan. With a cold expression, he said, "Sorry, kid. Let's just say it was an accidental discharge. Goodbye."
As soon as the Black-Clad Man finished this line, he pulled the trigger like a stylish killer from a movie, preparing to end Wei Yuan's life. However, at that moment, a comical scene unfolded.
He pulled the trigger several times in succession, yet no bullets were fired from the gun. All four people present were dumbfounded; the previously tense atmosphere was disrupted. After repeatedly pulling the trigger with no response from the gun, it was as if a normal man suddenly turned into a limp figure.
This was an incredibly frustrating situation. The Black-Clad Man had been trying to look cool while preparing to dispose of Wei Yuan's body after killing him, but now his handgun had malfunctioned.
"Is this gun fake?"
At that moment, Wei Yuan's thoughts mirrored those of everyone present. He had originally thought he was doomed, but who would have guessed he would walk through the gates of death and come back? Wei Yuan's feelings were beyond description; no matter how exhausted he had been or how weak his body felt, despite the severe injuries he had sustained, he now felt invigorated, as if a new life had surged within him.
"Damn it, Gunrunner Liu, that bastard dared to fool me with a fake gun."
The man in black fired several shots without effect. He clearly remembered loading the bullets; the only logical explanation was that the handgun was fake. Furious, he slammed the gun down onto the ground.
"I'll kill you even without a gun," declared the Black-Clad Man confidently.
Seeing Wei Yuan half-kneeling on the ground, battered and bruised, and exhausted from the continuous fighting, they thought there was no way they couldn't take him down together.
However, just as the three of them prepared to rush forward, they suddenly heard a continuous honking sound—more than five cars honking at once.
It must be the people Yuan Ziyi had called over. Even after being modernized completely, the Purple Robe Pavilion still maintained strong combat capabilities. When the elders inside heard Yuan Ziyi's call for help, they dared not delay; they quickly asked for the address and gathered people to come over.
"Haha... why isn't your gun misfiring?" Wei Yuan's exaggerated smile sounded like mockery to the Black-Clad Man.
At this moment, Wei Yuan lay on the ground, his body completely battered. But upon seeing reinforcements arrive, it felt as if those Light Ink-Colored Mists surged forth from his mind's Mist-like Space like the Repairing Source Power from the bottom of Luoxia Lake, seemingly blocking his gun.
To be precise, it should be said that the Repairing Source Power restored the bullets he had fired back to their original state. So on the surface, it appeared as though the gun barrel was blocked, leading one to wonder: could this gun be fake?
Wei Yuan laughed wildly; it was an excitement of rebirth that supported his body. If it weren't for the joy of narrowly escaping death moments ago, perhaps even his facial muscles would have frozen. Of course, hidden within this emotion was another factor: shock.
Indeed, he never expected that Light Ink-Colored Mist could actually block fired bullets. Since gaining this Ability, he had made quite a bit of money with it; however, all of it was hard-earned. Every time he absorbed Spiritual Energy to repair higher forms of items, he did so in a state of trembling fear.
On one hand, there is a fear of experiencing side effects from excessive saturation while absorbing Spiritual Energy, and on the other hand, there is a concern about being drained to the bone when using Restorative Power due to overexertion. In fact, he encounters these two issues every time he advances; the balance between input and output requires an incredibly precise control, making him tread carefully as if walking on thin ice.
Many times, he thinks that if he could obtain another Ability from Luoxia Lake, such as X-ray vision or the ability to turn stones into gold, it would be much easier to acquire wealth. This might seem a bit greedy or ungrateful, but isn't that just human nature?
However, when Repairing Ability instinctively protects his safety through sheer willpower and even saves his life in such a dangerous moment, Wei Yuan realizes the true value of this Ability.
Seeing Wei Yuan lying on the ground yet still wearing a mocking victorious expression directed at him, the Black-Clad Man suddenly becomes furious. He pulls out a knife from his Black Jacket and says, "Let me kill this guy."
"Their people are coming; do you want to die alongside him?"
At this moment, the large Mustache hears the continuous blaring of horns from afar and has already lost his composure. Although he knows they are still some distance away, he worries about how many people the enemy has brought and whether they will surround the three of them.
The large Mustache's advice has no effect; it seems that the Black-Clad Man cannot vent his anger until he kills Wei Yuan. He charges at Wei Yuan with the knife.
Although his strength is nearly depleted, when he sees the opponent rushing at him with a weapon, a survival instinct drives his actions. A belief has always supported him: he cannot die here.
Watching where the opponent aims the knife, Wei Yuan decisively withdraws. At this moment, his body, now flexible from stretching, comes into play. He performs a backflip and narrowly avoids the incoming strike. However, the Black-Clad Man clearly has some skill with knives; as he swings downwards, the Cold Edge grazes past Wei Yuan's ear.
In an instant, the cold blade flashes before Wei Yuan's eyes. With no other choice, he raises his hand and slightly turns to block it. Fortunately, his suit is made of high-quality material, and combined with the shirt underneath it, both layers are slashed open. However, thanks to this layer of protection, Wei Yuan only suffers a minor injury on his hand—a thin cut from which blood slowly trickles down.
Was it really necessary to buy such an expensive suit? It can make an impression and lend some face at various gatherings without being too embarrassing. But no matter how high the price tag is, it can't protect against a kitchen knife.
Though he escapes serious harm from this attack, his suit jacket and shirt are ruined. This was only the first time Wei Yuan wore this outfit; he had hoped to pawn it if money became tight. Clearly, that idea is now out of the question. Remembering the long string of zeros on the price tag makes Wei Yuan feel a pang of regret.
After dodging several more strikes from him, Wei Yuan realizes he can no longer rely solely on defense. He notices a strange pattern: the way this Black-Clad Man wields his knife resembles that of Viper Man who had come to teach him a lesson last time—perhaps they share similar techniques.
At this moment, he doesn't have time to ponder their connection. However, this realization allows him to gradually grasp the Black-Clad Man's attacking rhythm. So when the man prepares to retract his knife after another strike, Wei Yuan seizes this opportunity and lunges toward his weapon-bearing hand.
Wei Yuan had almost used all his strength in one go after taking aim this time. With a crash, the Black-Clad Man stumbled, and his knife slipped from his grasp, falling completely into the pond.
"Do you know how expensive this outfit is?" Wei Yuan cursed angrily. Seizing the last bit of energy he had, he kicked at the Black-Clad Man's chest. Unexpectedly, due to excessive exhaustion, the kick only made the man in the Black Jacket take two steps back without falling down. However, because of the principle of force balance, Wei Yuan's own body fell backward.
The two experts who had come down from the truck heard the horn getting closer and felt uneasy. They quickly supported the Black-Clad Man's body, trying to escape. But it seemed that the Black-Clad Man had lost his sanity; he didn’t even realize what had offended Wei Yuan. He broke free from the two and charged madly toward Wei Yuan.
Wei Yuan was also alone; seeing him so frenzied made him tense up. Standing became a problem, so he could only brace himself against the ground and retreat. To his surprise, as he backed away, he pressed against the gun that the Black-Clad Man had dropped earlier.
When Wei Yuan picked up the handgun, it seemed as if the Dark Ink-colored Mist lingering near the barrel began to be automatically absorbed by his body. This situation was quite strange because Light Ink-Colored Mist turned transparent upon contact with air; at this moment, Wei Yuan was merely sensing something unusual.
Watching as the man charged crazily toward him, their distance shrank to less than a meter. Wei Yuan decisively pulled the trigger. An unexpected event occurred; what had just been suspected to be a fake gun now fired bullets violently after he pulled the trigger.
"I'm sorry, this time it really was an accidental discharge."
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