Chapter Sixteen: The Assassin Strikes

“Where do you think you’re all going together? Looks to me like you’re all headed for the afterlife hand in hand, ha ha…” Several mocking laughs echoed from the shadows not far away. Five assassins, dressed like mountain bandits, strode over to stand before Qin Xiaomo. Each wore a headband embroidered with a tiger, the emblem of their sect—so blatant that they didn’t even bother to hide their affiliation, as if afraid no one would know where they came from.

“You’ve really made us search high and low these days, only to find you enjoying yourselves here,” sneered their leader, a man with a coin-sized mole on his cheek, sprouting three red hairs.

“If it weren’t for that medicine merchant, we’d still be wandering the city,” grunted one of the cold-faced thugs.

“Medicine merchant? You mean that guy with the little mustache?!” Qin Xiaomo’s brows knit together, fury flaring within her. She wished she could tie that little mustache up and feed him to the groundfish!

The white dumpling, sensing trouble, bristled and bared its teeth. Knowing it couldn’t help, Qin Xiaomo simply held it tight, stopping it from causing mischief.

Qian Mubai treated the newcomers as if they were air, quietly sipping his tea.

“Boss, he’s looking down on you!” The cold-faced thug stood beside the red-haired mole, craning his neck and pouting.

“Oh? You’re arrogant, aren’t you? I’ll show you what I’m made of.” The red-haired mole strode over, brandishing his broadsword with all his might, slashing left and right at Qian Mubai, but striking nothing but air—he was soon out of breath.

Qian Mubai merely curled his lips in a faint smile and sipped his tea again.

“Boss, he’s laughing at you!” the cold-faced one shouted from behind.

Red-haired mole grew a bit embarrassed, especially at being slighted in front of his men. “Well, I don’t believe it. Brothers, get him!”

The assassins, eager for a fight, raised their blades and advanced. Qian Mubai, still holding his teacup, dodged easily, not even ruffling his robes, all the while serene. He took another sip. “If you have any real skill, show it now.”

“Boss, he’s mocking you!” the cold-faced one shouted, stretching his neck.

Furious, the red-haired mole turned and smacked him on the head, muttering, “Shut up! Shut up! I said shut up!” The cold-faced thug howled in pain.

Qin Xiaomo couldn’t fathom how such a person became a leader, but before her thoughts could settle, the red-haired mole barked, “Trying to provoke us, are you? Brothers, form up!”

The five spread out, each taking a corner about two meters from Qian Mubai, drawing from their clothes coils of copper wire chains over two meters long. Each chain was lined with inconspicuous barbs—just brushing against them would strip away flesh. If all five embedded themselves in a body, the consequences would be dire.

Qian Mubai scanned the assassins with a blank expression and asked Qin Xiaomo, “How’s your leg?”

Qin Xiaomo was baffled. Wasn’t this the moment when tempers flared and a great battle erupted? Qian Mubai didn’t look outmatched—what was he planning? Escape? She nodded, quietly lifted her skirt, tucked in the white dumpling, and prepared to run.

Noticing, the red-haired mole laughed. “Trying to run? I’ll tell you now—fall into our hands today, and you won’t get away!”

“Stand back. Things are about to get bloody—it’s best you don’t see it,” Qian Mubai said as he carefully put away his teacup, tucking it into his sleeve.

Qin Xiaomo obediently retreated a fair distance.

“Boss, this guy’s too cocky. Should we kill him or keep him alive?”

“Keep the woman alive—her bounty doubles if she’s taken living. Let him run his mouth before he dies; it’ll show we’re generous,” said the red-haired mole, confident of victory.

The cold-faced one chimed in, “Soon we’ll never have to worry about money again, ha ha ha!” The red-haired mole grinned, exposing his yellowed teeth.

“Are you sure?” Qian Mubai raised an eyebrow.

“Absolutely, definitely, positively!” the cold-faced thug boasted, tilting his chin up.

The assassins dropped their mocking demeanor, right hands gripping their blades, left hands holding the copper wire chains, eyes sharp as they advanced. With a synchronized flick, their chains tangled together to form a pentagon, trapping Qian Mubai in the center. A single tug from any side and he’d be ensnared.

Yet Qian Mubai remained unruffled.

Qin Xiaomo, refusing to look away, saw Qian Mubai’s palm summon a golden light, its shape shifting with his breath. When the glow condensed to the size of a cherry, he suddenly pressed his hand down, shattering the light. Golden sparks shot out in all directions, and wherever they landed, darkness spread.

The assassins surrounding Qian Mubai found their faces and bodies quickly covered in dense black spots. Moments later, anguished cries erupted. “It itches… I’m dying of itch!” They rolled on the ground, scratching desperately.

Qian Mubai glanced around. “You’re already poisoned. This is called the Luminous Severance. The blackened spots will itch, then burn, then rot away, killing you.”

“Liar! I’ve never heard of such a technique!” the red-haired mole shouted, still scratching.

“You’ll know soon enough. After I count to five, the itch will turn to pain—pain no ordinary man can endure. Want to try?” Qian Mubai’s interest faded. “One, two, three, four, five.” As he finished speaking—

“Aaah! I’m in agony!” The red-haired mole and his men howled, clutching their wounds.

“If you agree to three conditions, I’ll give you the antidote,” Qian Mubai said.

“W-what conditions?” the red-haired mole whimpered, his face contorted in pain.

“First, you’re never to trouble her again, and you’ll serve her as guards. Second, go deal with the group two hundred meters away. Third, bring me that medicine merchant, bound and delivered.”

Silence. The red-haired mole bit his lip, blood seeping from between his teeth.

“The antidote is right here.” Qian Mubai drew a small white bottle from his sleeve and waved it before their eyes.

“Boss, just agree,” pleaded a henchman.

“Brother, I can’t take it anymore!”

“Boss, in eighteen years I’ll be a man again. I’m not afraid to die, but I’ll never be ordered around by some woman!” the cold-faced one declared.

The red-haired mole finally spoke with difficulty. “I agree! But you… you must promise me one thing. I’ll submit, but let my brothers… go.”

“Brother, I’ll follow you even if it kills me!” the cold-faced one replied loyally.

“Qian Mubai…” Qin Xiaomo, unable to watch them suffer further, stepped forward and gently tugged his sleeve.

“Deal!” Qian Mubai tossed the antidote in front of them. The red-haired mole scrambled to snatch it up and divided it among his men. Gradually, they regained their strength.

Turning away, the red-haired mole pulled a bag of silver from his breast and, head bowed, spoke to his brothers. “I’ve let you all down. I hoped we’d make our fortune, return home rich, buy land, marry. Take this—divide it among yourselves. It’s enough to buy some fields back home and never starve. Go now.”

“I won’t leave, brother!” The cold-faced one clung to his sleeve, face flushed and eyes brimming with tears.

The other three exchanged glances. One lowered his head and said sincerely, “Boss, I’ve had enough of this wandering life…”

“I understand—no need to say more. If we meet again out in the world, we’ll still be brothers!” The red-haired mole hugged the three who were leaving, eyes reddening.

Qin Xiaomo dabbed her eyes with her sleeve, thinking, “To find such loyal and honorable people in this game—no wonder Qian Mubai wanted me to take them in.” Yet she couldn’t recall this gang from anywhere in her memory. She resolved to study the game’s progress and storylines once back in reality; if she could find a walkthrough, so much the better.

The red-haired mole and the cold-faced one watched their three brothers walk away, reluctant to part.

“Enough—we’re not alone. Another team of assassins is already nearby. Isn’t it time you two showed your true abilities?” Qian Mubai’s voice was cool and clear.