Era of Mist

Chapter 276: Chapter 275: Wither

The two drew closer.

Stray bullets, some from the New Rangyi and others from Daxing, peppered the ground around them, sending up crackling splashes of water where they landed. But both men moved faster than the shooters could have ever anticipated. The splashes only erupted in their wake, unable to catch their fleeting figures.

In their eyes, there was only each other, only blazing killing intent.

By Wang Dafu’s side, Ah Cheng’s eyes glinted as he raised his gun and took aim. Whether his sights were trained on the Black Warrior or Shi Tiexin, no one could say for sure.

His finger tightened on the trigger.

But—

SMACK. A hand suddenly grabbed his gun and forced it down. It was Wang Dafu.

Ah Cheng never got to fire the shot.

The next moment, the Black Warrior and Shi Tiexin finally clashed.

One slashed with his sword, its blade slicing through the rain. The other threw a clenched fist that blasted through the air.

Life and death would be decided in a single instant.

It all came down to who was faster, and who was stronger.

In a flash, it was over. The intervening moments seemed to have been edited out, leaving everyone to see only the result.

SLICE!

A gash opened on Shi Tiexin’s flank, and blood sprayed into the air.

He’d been cut!

But an instant before the blade found him, in a moment too fast for the naked eye to follow, a series of cracks like snapping fingers echoed. Shi Tiexin’s fist had suddenly accelerated, slamming into the Black Warrior’s shoulder a fraction of a second sooner.

The unexpected acceleration left the Black Warrior no time to react. His shoulder caved in instantly. With the strength in his arm gone, the trajectory of his blade went wide.

A strike that should have taken Shi Tiexin’s head was reduced to a gash across his flank.

The Black Warrior was staggered!

Shi Tiexin sucked in another breath and roared, his Pseudo-Core frantically erupting with rays of heat. He brought his arms together in a twisting motion and, with a sharp CRACK, snapped the Black Warrior’s wrist. Then, with a scooping motion, he wrenched the crimson Samurai Sword from his enemy’s grip.

A pull, a turn, and then, without a moment’s hesitation, a thrust!

With a sickening squelch, a spray of blood erupted from the Black Warrior’s back as the crimson tip of the blade burst forth. The Samurai Sword had run him completely through. His dark eyes bulged from their sockets.

”GAAAH—!”

Roaring, Shi Tiexin slammed into the Black Warrior, driving him backward in a ferocious charge while simultaneously dragging the sword downward, slicing vertically through his torso.

The man’s torso was abnormally tough; the blade struggled to cut through it.

His life force was incredibly strong. Even with such a grievous wound, he seemed to have enough strength left to fight back.

But with a heave of his shoulder, Shi Tiexin threw the Black Warrior to the ground, smashing him into a puddle and sending a great wave of water surging out. He ripped the blade free, then, pointing the tip downward, he channeled his weight and strength into another vicious downward thrust.

SQUELCH. The blade plunged into the Black Warrior’s chest once more. The bones there were abnormally dense and solid, resisting the tip’s advance. But with a crackle from his arms, Shi Tiexin’s strength surged again. With a sickening CRUNCH, the blade broke through the plate of bone. He drove it deeper, and deeper still, until it had run completely through the man’s chest, pinning the Black Warrior to the ground.

The Black Warrior’s body convulsed. He gripped the blade protruding from his chest, as if trying to pull it out. But in the end, his hands simply fell away, lifeless.

The tension left his muscles all at once, and his tenacious life force began to drain rapidly away.

The battle was decided.

A true battle to the death, over in the blink of an eye.

A struggle of life and death, decided in an instant.

Shi Tiexin half-knelt on the ground, his hands braced on the sword’s hilt, gasping for breath. A deep exhaustion radiated from his very bones. Today, he had truly reached his limit. Especially that last exchange—though it was just a single sequence of moves, it had overdrawn all his energy and stamina.

’Compared to the fights in the secret realm, a duel like this is a true deathmatch,’ he thought. ’Truly kill or be killed. There are no second chances, no room for even a sliver of hesitation.’

This one true deathmatch had started to change him.

After a moment of gasping for breath, the blood that had been pouring from his waist began to slow and then stanch. The effect of his 50% increased recovery rate was kicking in. Shi Tiexin knew he wasn’t going to die.

The gunfire had stopped. Daxing had secured a complete victory. Wang Dafu hurried over with his men, Ah Cheng diligently holding an umbrella for him. Wang Dafu seemed to say something, but Shi Tiexin, dizzy and seeing spots from blood loss, couldn’t hear clearly.

He just lowered his head, looked at the fallen Black Warrior, and suddenly reached out to grab the Celestial Dog Mask.

He wanted to see the face of the man who had exerted such immense pressure on him.

The Celestial Dog Mask came off, revealing a familiar face.

The people gathering around fell silent, staring intently at the face. It looked so familiar. Ah Fei, who had squeezed his way to the front, suddenly cried out, ”Isn’t that Fujiwara Jizhen?!”

An uproar immediately swept through the crowd.

Fujiwara Jizhen was the Black Warrior!

The Black Warrior was Fujiwara Jizhen!

So the rumor that the Black Warrior had killed the Car God was nothing but an elaborate ruse he had orchestrated to fake his own death!

Everyone was shouting, all except Shi Tiexin. He quietly gazed at Fujiwara Jizhen’s face. After a long while, he finally spoke, his voice heavy. ”You know, I considered avenging you.”

”For that... I am... most grateful...” Blood welled up in Fujiwara Jizhen’s mouth. It was a strange and vivid purplish-red. He struggled for breath, forcing out the words. ”I... could not face you... I had to... fake my death...”

Shi Tiexin said nothing more. He didn’t even ask why.

”If times were different... I would have much preferred... to share a drink with you... A pity... what a pity...” Fujiwara Jizhen struggled to lift his head and look up. Heavy rain beat against his eyelids, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes lost focus, his vacant gaze piercing through the thick, dark clouds, as if he were suddenly back in a spring field blanketed in wildflowers.

”My... Land of the Rising Sun...”

”My... home...”

THUD. Fujiwara Jizhen’s head fell back, splashing into a swirling puddle. The water surged out, then flowed back, submerging his face. The purplish-red blood diluted into a pale pink, like scattered wild cherry blossoms fading into the mud amidst the wind and rain.

Shi Tiexin watched it all, his face expressionless, as the idealist passed away. Even the strongest life force ultimately comes to nothing.

”Boss,” Guo Bing suddenly leaned in, his expression grim. ”Boss, you should go see Mai Ba. He’s...”

Guo Bing’s grim face said the rest. Shi Tiexin shot to his feet and stumbled over to where another group of people had gathered.

Mai Ba lay in Ah D’s arms. The bleeding from his wound had stopped, and his face was terrifyingly pale. The knife wound, the blood loss, being soaked in water, and the prolonged lack of medical care—it was clear to anyone that Mai Ba wasn’t going to make it.

”Damn it! Damn it! The boss is here to see you! Open your eyes!”

At Ah D’s calls, Mai Ba struggled to open his eyes. His voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz.

”Boss...”

”I’m here. I’m here.” Shi Tiexin took Mai Ba’s hand, his voice deep and steady. ”Tell me what you need. Does your family need to be taken care of? Do you have any relatives?”