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墨書 Inktalez
The clash with Watanabe Ichiro was nothing more than a spark in the night, lacking any exaggerated or flamboyant moves. Yet, it was simple, and the outcome was explosive. The eldest disciple of the Martial Sovereign, as Jufeng would say, was buried under his own foolishness.
With a Tachi replaced by a longsword, Jufeng moved slowly down the corridor, while in front of him, the elites of the Yamamoto Clan retreated step by step.
Until there was nowhere left to retreat, the members of the Yamamoto Clan found themselves trapped in the middle of the corridor. On one side stood Lance and his Bear Guard, and on the other was Jufeng wielding his longsword. As for Chen Tan Hua, he had turned and descended the stairs to eliminate anyone attempting to escape and report back.
Jufeng had emerged from his boss's room, a fact witnessed by many members of the Yamamoto Clan. However, only a few had seen the brief yet complex scene unfold; even those who did were hesitant to believe that their leader had truly perished beneath that Tachi.
So they waited—one second, two seconds, ten seconds, half a minute.
Jufeng remained still. Lance seemed to hesitate, perhaps considering Jufeng's feelings, and did not give the order to attack. Thus, the situation fell into a stalemate.
Time trickled away, but within Watanabe Ichiro's room, there was not a single sound.
Fear spread in the hearts of the Yamamoto Clan members as time passed; outside, the night seemed to grow even darker.
About a minute later, footsteps echoed from the staircase—only two sounds—and a figure appeared at the end of the corridor.
It was Chen Tan Hua. His appearance clarified one thing: the elites downstairs who had attempted to flee had been dealt with; all that remained were those present in this space.
One bold member of the Yamamoto Clan unconsciously swallowed hard; his voice was low but sharp enough for Jufeng, with his heightened senses, to catch it.
And so he smiled. The thrill of battle excited him; thus, his smile was filled with exhilaration and even a hint of bloodlust.
His fingers that had been lightly gripping the longsword suddenly tightened into a full grasp around its hilt. Jufeng's feet moved swiftly as he dashed into the crowd.
The longsword flashed with a brilliant white light, marking the beginning of the purge.
Suddenly, a thick cloud obscured the moonlight, refusing to budge despite the sea breeze blowing through.
As dawn approached, the place where the sea met the sky became increasingly pale, a faint golden halo slicing through the surface of the water like a sharp sword.
The night in Prit Town was peaceful, and the morning was tranquil. Wisps of blue smoke floated in the still air, separated by great distances, each undisturbed by the others.
In the inn where they were staying, Jufeng sat at the edge of the bed, straightening her upper body and sitting upright.
Of course, this imposing posture was strongly insisted upon by Ikeda Masahiro. As someone who had studied first aid for a semester at university, she needed the patient to cooperate fully so that she could confidently apply what she had learned.
However, she couldn't help but grumble a few complaints. "Why force someone who's not an expert? Look at the three of us; you're the only one who got hurt. You really have some nerve!"
Jufeng wanted to shrug to express her dissatisfaction, but as soon as she moved, Ikeda Masahiro's delicate hand landed on her shoulder with a crisp "smack!" Though it didn't hurt, it made Jufeng instantly compliant.
Ikeda Masahiro's perspective would not be agreed upon by anyone else in the room. The enemy Jufeng faced was on a completely different level than those faced by the other two. However, no one dared to refute her; Lance had never held any good feelings toward Jufeng, while Chen Tan Hua felt obligated to uphold the principles of a bad friend.
Hayamura Shuichi stood straight by the window, avoiding watching Ikeda Masahiro bandage Jufeng's wounds, silently lost in thought.
As for Vera, she had not appeared from the beginning. This formidable European Blue Cat had seemingly learned to evade confrontation from an unknown point in time.
Ikeda Kenji looked at Jufeng's injuries. Although he had expressed his gratitude earlier, he still felt uneasy and couldn't help but ramble on again.
"Brother Jufeng, I truly owe you a favor this time. In the future, no matter what you need, as long as it's within my ability and doesn't violate my principles, I will do my best to help."
Jufeng waved her hand dismissively but was met with a sharp pain instead. It turned out that Ikeda Masahiro was displeased with Jufeng's sudden movement and pinched her with delicate fingers.
Jufeng had to immediately lower her raised hand again and forced a smile. "You're too polite. It's all about reciprocity; there will surely be times when I need your help."
Ikeda Kenji nodded with a smile, appreciating Jufeng's straightforward nature. There truly is no such thing as a free lunch; many people say they don't need anything while secretly harboring different intentions, which is quite nauseating.
Before long, Ikeda Masahiro wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her fair-skinned hand and said, "Alright, looking at these wounds on you, they should heal quickly."
Jufeng smiled slightly at Ikeda Masahiro, a gesture of gratitude that was met with an eye roll. He didn’t mind, and after exchanging a greeting with Ikeda Kenji, he left the room with Chen Tan Hua.
"Your luck with the ladies is quite impressive, isn’t it? You seem to have a different girl by your side all the time. I must say, I’m envious!" Chen Tan Hua teased as they walked side by side along the tidy streets of Prit Town. Jufeng didn’t respond; he had something serious to discuss.
He pulled a handgun from his pocket and handed it to Chen Tan Hua.
Chen Tan Hua took the gun and casually glanced at it, but his playful demeanor quickly faded.
"This is from the Terrorist Arms Factory," Jufeng said, nodding. It seemed that despite his carefree appearance, Chen Tan Hua had been taking this matter seriously.
"Exactly. I stumbled upon it in Yingguo; it was supposedly acquired in Ireland. I suspect that since the Large Magellanic Cloud's Terrorists were wiped out and Earth has been cracking down on them, they couldn’t export their weapons and had to sell them off domestically instead."
Chen Tan Hua nodded. For a brief moment, he had the same thought. After searching everywhere without finding any leads, they finally had a clue.
"I'll head back to Xavier now and then go to Ireland with Hua Cheng and the others."
Jufeng nodded, smiling reassuringly. He trusted Chen Tan Hua completely; he was certainly capable, though perhaps not ambitious enough. Otherwise, he could have made a name for himself anywhere in the world.
Chen Tan Hua arrived in Clotia, having spent the night eliminating targets before hastily leaving in the morning. Investigating the Terrorists was different from dealing with the Underworld, so he couldn’t let Ikeda Kenji know. As for Vera, even though Jufeng’s relationship with her was growing distant, he believed she wouldn’t betray their initial bond.
Knowing when to act and when to hold back was a prerequisite for their cooperation. As partners, they could trust each other on certain matters.
When Jufeng returned to the hotel, Vera was already there; she had come to deliver news.
"Nobody from Yuta Shouroku escaped last night; he’ll likely realize it soon. But it’s fine—internal selection will begin shortly, and he won’t have a chance to find out who interfered before it’s over."
Ikeda Kenji believed in Vera's abilities and was confident she would handle everything well. He had just expressed his gratitude to her, considering that the losses of the Bear Guard in last night's battle would not be insignificant for the Yamamoto Clan.
Vera continued, "When the time comes, you will need to enter on your own. Here is the invitation; it allows a maximum of four people, and no fighting is permitted inside. The details of the selection process will be explained once you enter. From there on, it will be up to you."
Ikeda Kenji took the invitation, which was merely a card adorned with the image of an Eight-Winged Envoy, a mantle worn only by commanders throughout history.
He nodded at Vera, acknowledging that their allies had already done a lot for him. Now it was time for them to showcase their own strength.
Hayamura Shuichi had not slept all night, yet he appeared unusually energetic. This was a method used by warriors to enhance their willpower; a few sleepless nights could not only have no adverse effects on the body but could also significantly boost combat effectiveness.
Everything was ready; they were just waiting for the selection gate to open.
(To be continued)
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