Xie Jin shouted into the swirling Nether Fog, “Li Weiyi, your senior brother Zhao Meng is in our custody. He’s in a miserable state—his kneecaps have been shattered.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be as close as brothers? Hand over the Buddha Relic, and we’ll immediately have a physician tend to him.”
“All for a single Buddha Relic—you really are selfish. And too cowardly, so afraid of death; ha, you’re nothing but a shrinking turtle…” …
Zhao Meng’s legs and his right arm were broken by steel rods; his limbs swollen from the loss of circulation. Xie Tianshu ordered his men to rip the clothes and pants from him. In an instant, his dislocated arm bones and the shattered broken leg were fully exposed to everyone.
It was utterly gruesome—a sight that made one’s bones ache just by looking. Seeing Zhao Meng in that state and hearing his continuous agonized groans, Xie Tianshu momentarily lost all desire to torture him further. In such agony, any further cruelty seemed almost unnecessary.
“Old man, you really can’t deny your age!”
Kong Fan emerged from the medical tent while getting dressed. He muttered “old man” casually, but the triumphant smile on his face betrayed the inner joy of a youthful heart reborn. He had only been inside for ten minutes.
Seeing Kong Fan full of rotund flesh, Gao Huan’s eyes flared with fury.
“They’re all damned scum! I’m going to kill you!”
Before Gao Huan could charge forward, a member of the kitchen team kicked him down hard.
“Kid, you’ve got good taste—she really is pale and smooth,” Kong Fan jeered proudly, as though he delight in seeing Gao Huan seethe with rage.
Striding over, he looked at Zhao Meng, stripped naked and lying on the ground, and remarked, “Not even a word yet? Xiao Lin, go to the kitchen shed and fetch a jar of chili oil. Heat it up boiling hot and bring it here—add some spice for the First Mate.”
Before long, a team member known as “Xiao Lin” of the scientific expedition arrived carrying a bowl of steaming hot chili oil. Kong Fan ordered, “Pour the chili oil onto his wounds. If he still won’t speak, then we’ll pour it into his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth all at once.”
The chili oil was surely heated to two or three hundred degrees. Just through Kong Fan’s description, many of the expedition team shuddered in terror and could hardly imagine such cruelty. Only Zhao Meng remained strangely calm, cursing the fact that he no longer even possessed the strength to hasten his own death.
So miserable, what disgrace to his sect.
“Hua!”
A shrill sound of wind tearing through the air rang out. A long streak of yellow light flashed out from the Nether Fog and struck Xiao Lin’s right shoulder blade. It was a sword—the Yellow Dragon Sword.
The entire blade of the Yellow Dragon Sword had pierced through him, leaving only the hilt exposed. The tremendous force of the impact sent Xiao Lin flying, flung sideways, landing about two meters away. With Xiao Lin’s miserable scream, the bowl of scalding chili oil slipped from his grasp and splattered onto Kong Fan’s feet.
“Ah…”
Kong Fan cried out in agony, hopping up and down as blister after blister formed along the top of his foot. Clanging sounds of metal against stone and hurried footsteps resounded, and moments later, from the depths of the Nether Fog, several figures appeared before everyone.
Li Weiyi strode forward dragging his rifle, the tip scraping against the ground and sparking a luminous trail as it went. His speed was astonishing—not any less than that of the Ghost Bear Emperor.
Just as Xie Tianshu drew his gun ready to fire, a black spear nearly as long as a zhang—its imposing presence like the weight of Mount Tai—came down upon his head. The rushing sound of the spear as it cut through the air pained the ear.
“Puchi!”
Xie Tianshu barely dodged, narrowly avoiding a strike to the head. Yet his right shoulder was caught; as though slicing through tofu, his entire arm flew off.
“Boom!”
After the spear chopped off Xie Tianshu’s arm, it landed heavily on the ground, sinking it into a deep crater. His handgun tumbled along with his severed arm. Crumpling to the ground, Xie Tianshu clutched the stump where blood gushed uncontrollably.
He writhed in searing pain, his vision darkening as though he would soon pass out.
“Shu Ge!”
“Li Weiyi did it! He’s alone—everyone, join in and kill him!” …
Only now did the rest begin to realize what had suddenly occurred. Some noted that the long spear held by Li Weiyi belonged to the ranks of those ghastly, white-boned soldiers, something utterly inconceivable. But this was clearly not the time for fear.
Under Xie Jin’s lead, five men from different directions charged toward Li Weiyi. In their hands were stun guns, protective shields, steel rods, kitchen knives—every weapon conceivable. Li Weiyi merely cast a fleeting glance at the miserable state of his senior brother before seething with fury.
His eyes swept over the scene with lethal intent. This was only seven days ago! How could his companions have sunk so low?
Just seven days ago, on the Arctic, everyone had been laughing and full of high spirits, their hearts united in joy.
“小 Li, be careful… they outnumber you!”
Old Liu, the technical team leader whose hands were bound, managed to speak up after noticing someone was dealing with the ruffians. The others, like Old Liu, felt a flicker of hope in the despairing darkness, yet were filled with worry. After all, Li Weiyi was alone—a solitary man facing five attackers.
Even when attacked by five at once, Li Weiyi showed no fear. A scorching flow of energy burst forth from his right sole before he suddenly leaped forward two mighty steps. Each step was as long as a zhang as he swept his long spear.
“Bang!”
One of the kitchen team members wielding a cleaver had never expected Li Weiyi to leap like a monkey, almost as if he were flying. Unable to dodge, the man was struck by the long spear and sent flying several zhang away like a straw doll. That black spear, several zhang in length, must have weighed hundreds of jin.
A blow from it would shatter every bone in one’s body. The kitchen team member landed heavily outside the medical tent. His face was drenched in blood, his mouth and nostrils gushing red, unable to get up—most likely, he wouldn’t survive.
One of the security team members, holding a protective shield, reached for a handgun that had dropped to the ground. Li Weiyi, his eyes catching sight of him out of the corner, would not allow this to happen.
“Puchi!”
He hurled his black spear nearly ten meters. In its path, the shield and the security man were impaled together, and blood sprayed across the deck. It was too savage—a man could be killed as easily as cutting grass.
Xie Jin and the others were so startled that fear made them hesitate, trapped in a state of indecision.
“Aren’t you the ones looking for me? Come on then!”
After that shout, Li Weiyi charged like a bullet toward Kong Fan. Seeing that Li Weiyi’s strength and speed were inhuman, Kong Fan dared not confront him directly. Instead, he resolutely attempted to seize Zhao Meng to use as a hostage.
Now, without his black spear, Li Weiyi’s speed was even faster—swift as a gust of wind. Before Kong Fan’s hands could grip Zhao Meng, Li Weiyi was already upon him.
“That fast?”
Kong Fan was so frightened his soul nearly fled his body. With no choice but to abandon Zhao Meng, he threw a full-force punch forward. Wearing his immortal “Silver Thread Gloves” that bestowed incredible strength, Kong Fan lunged.
Li Weiyi neither dodged nor retreated; he clashed head-on with the punch. With a resounding “Bang,” Kong Fan felt as though his fist hit an iron wall. His fingers ached unbearably, and the bones in his entire arm seemed to resonate with cracking sounds.
That single punch shattered his own lofty dreams and reminded him painfully that he was merely a mortal. Horrified, he spun and fled. Li Weiyi pursued, casually drawing out the Yellow Dragon Sword that had been embedded in Xiao Lin’s shoulder blade.
After only seven steps, he caught up with Kong Fan and slashed his back with a single sword stroke.
“Puu!”
A wound half a zhang long and as deep as half a palm appeared along Kong Fan’s back, slicing diagonally from his left shoulder downward, severing his spine. With a short, choked cry, he collapsed straight forward. At that moment, Sima Qin and two ragged security team members rushed out of the medical tent.
Seeing Kong Fan lying not far away with blood spurting from his back, and Li Weiyi carrying the blood-stained sword like a killing god, all three were terrified, stumbling and falling to the ground. Li Weiyi paid them no heed and turned back.
“Shila!”
With a casual swing of the Yellow Dragon Sword, he sliced through the rope binding Gao Huan’s wrist. Then, leaping upward more than three meters high and covering a distance of five or six meters, he brought his sword down on a figure who was about to retrieve the handgun.
That person, a security team member, was clutching a steel rod as thick as a thumb. He had grabbed the handgun with a wild, triumphant smile on his face. The Yellow Dragon Sword descended from the sky, cleaving into his neck.
His head fell off like a rolling gourd, and blood spouted from his neck like a fountain. In that moment, Li Weiyi’s clothes were soaked with blood. With one swift kick, he sent the fallen handgun tumbling toward Gao Huan.
Gao Huan snatched up the handgun and charged directly at the barely conscious, dying Kong Fan.
“Bang bang bang!”
Three shots rang out. With each shot came a hiss and a roar, and he was in a frenzied state. Then he dashed toward Sima Qin and the two ragged security members.
They scrambled desperately, running faster than ever. Gao Huan pursued Sima Qin, firing again and again. On the fourth shot, he finally hit him.
Sima Qin was shot in the thigh and fell. Seeing Gao Huan closing in, he quickly knelt and pleaded, “Gao Huan, Gao Huan, we’re classmates—you can’t kill me… Killing me would be breaking the law…”
“Bang! Bang!”
Gao Huan gritted his teeth, his eyes fierce and unyielding, paying no heed to his pleas as he continued firing relentlessly. It was impossible to count how many rounds were spent; even after emptying the magazine, he kept pulling the trigger several more times. Without any bullets left, Sima Qin, riddled with bullet holes, lay on the ground.
Gao Huan trembled violently, his body shuddering with each ragged breath. Then, clenching his molars, he took the handgun and smashed it repeatedly against Sima Qin’s face until the man’s entire head became a bloody, mangled ruin. Only then did Gao Huan collapse, utterly spent, sitting on the ground.
The other two ragged security team members, terrified, rushed straight into the Nether Fog without daring to look back. Gradually, the deck grew quiet again. Qi Shanshan strode lightly along the side of the deck, moving along the ship’s parapet.
Her beautiful eyes shone with astonishment—she could hardly believe that Li Weiyi was so mighty, taking on all his opponents by himself. Gazing upon his heroic figure standing with the sword, calm and handsome, she couldn’t help but feel a ripple of admiration, silently acknowledging that Cai Yutong had excellent judgment.
Xie Tianshu’s severed arm lay in a pool of fresh blood as his face turned ever paler. Xiao Lin, though less injured, hardly dared rise; the slightest movement would draw the attention of Li Weiyi’s gaze—an expression as cold and unyielding as that of death itself. Xiao Lin stammered repeatedly, “I didn’t do anything!
It was all under Kong Fan’s orders—he forced us.
Li… Li Brother…
I won’t dare again, I’ll obey you from now on.” Ignoring him, Li Weiyi fixed his gaze on Xie Jin and another security team member carrying a stun gun.
At the same time, he summoned a searing flow of energy that rushed along the silver veins toward his ears, heightening his hearing to a razor-sharp acuity, for Old Liu had just warned him: be cautious of Chen Hong. The rifle in Chen Hong’s hand—his senior brother had been ambushed by him, leading to his grievous injury.
(End of Chapter)