Volume One: First Signs of Brilliance Chapter Sixty-Four: Decisive and Efficient

After killing two people in succession, Wang Jue overcame the barrier in his heart. This time, his actions were strikingly decisive and swift, as if he were slaughtering chickens rather than men.

There is, undeniably, a truth to the saying: sometimes, unless you push your limits, how can you know what you're truly capable of? Wang Jue had been caught in such a state before—unable to cross the threshold in his heart, endlessly agonizing over whether or not to kill. Though he had been nearly consumed by murderous intent before he came here, when it was time to act, he found himself unable to follow through. If Old Lin hadn’t suddenly pulled a gun and made Wang Jue sense his own life was in imminent danger, if his instincts hadn’t taken over and forced him to kill, perhaps he would still be lost in indecision.

Killing one is killing; killing two is still killing. After dispatching the second, the blond-haired man, Wang Jue felt a vague shackle within him suddenly vanish. His state of mind shifted, transforming from that of an ordinary man to that of a martial artist. Death, which is terrifying for most, becomes commonplace for one accustomed to life and death. The world of martial artists is undeniably more brutal than that of ordinary people. Often, when you show mercy, the other party will not be grateful—instead, they will seize the chance to strike back and kill you.

In fact, on Azure Star, few martial artists truly die at the hands of star beasts; more perish at the hands of their own kind. Killing for treasure, treachery, and betrayal—such things are all too common in their world.

“Not bad, you were much more decisive this time,” Lan Yiyi said as she approached after the two Black Dragon Gang members fell, her gaze lingering on Wang Jue in the living room, who was staring at his blood-drenched sword in surprise. “Honestly, I thought you’d need more time to adapt. I didn’t expect you to adjust so quickly. It seems you really are cut out for this.”

Surprise aside, Lan Yiyi had to admit Wang Jue’s actions had been unpredictable from the start. Even earlier, in the room, his behavior left her perplexed. But she also realized that while Wang Jue was young, he considered many things she hadn’t. She even found herself wondering whether his mental age exceeded his actual years.

Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a radiant glow on Wang Jue’s sword. With his head lowered, his expression unreadable, his voice trembled slightly: “Honestly, I never imagined killing someone would be so complicated.”

He had never dreamed that taking a life, which seemed so simple in theory, would be so difficult in practice. It wasn’t at all the swift, sword-falls-head-drops ordeal he’d imagined. At least, not at first.

“And now?” Lan Yiyi asked, unhurried, standing in the blood-scented living room, waiting for his answer.

“Now? Let’s continue. The sooner we finish this, the sooner it’s over.” Wang Jue lifted his head, his expression indifferent. “By the way, where’s the one who hit my father?”

He showed little emotion, almost as if he had discarded his feelings altogether. Indeed, especially in killing, too much emotion was never a good thing.

“In another room,” Lan Yiyi replied without hesitation. “There were three who beat your father. Two rooms are dark—likely their occupants are asleep. In one, the light’s still on, so that one’s probably still awake.”

She had investigated everything before they arrived.

These Black Dragon Gang members, whether in her eyes or those of the Hunters, were weeds in the Safe Zone—persistent, destructive, and in need of eradication. The Safe Zone’s approach was to cut them down like weeds, harvesting them every so often. It was the best solution. Fortunately, these men were notorious for their crimes; if they had been innocents, Lan Yiyi would never have agreed to help Wang Jue. That was the reason she was willing to assist him.

“I understand,” Wang Jue nodded, wasting no time as he strode out of the house and into another dark room. Lan Yiyi quietly followed behind, her steps light as a lotus blossom.

Moments after they left, two Hunters responsible for cleaning up entered the house. “What do you think the captain sees in this guy?” one asked.

“How should I know? Who can guess the captain’s thoughts?”

“I thought this kid would be something special, but he doesn’t seem like much.”

“That’s enough. Quit talking and clean this up before the captain finds out…”

The thought of their captain’s wrath silenced both men as they set about tidying the mess Wang Jue had left.

Meanwhile, on the other side, guided by Lan Yiyi, Wang Jue unhesitatingly turned on the light in the next room, as if he were in his own home. He walked straight up to a burly, rough-faced man in his forties. Though the man wore pajamas, the suit and tie hanging on the rack suggested he usually dressed formally.

“If I’m not mistaken, this is one of the men who beat my father, isn’t it?” Wang Jue asked, unconcerned about waking the man—in fact, he would have preferred it.

“Yes. Of the three who attacked your father, he’s one; another is in the room next door, and the third is in another house,” Lan Yiyi answered nonchalantly, then added, “Oh, and the one on the upper bunk was there too—the injuries to your uncle and aunt, and your mother’s slap, all came from him.”

The two of them pointed and spoke openly of the sleeping men, as if they weren’t even human. Especially after Lan Yiyi’s last comment, the murderous intent that had nearly faded from Wang Jue’s body surged back, even more terrifying than before.

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet.

“Who the hell turned on the light?” mumbled the man on the upper bunk, woken by the glare and grumbling, “What time is it? Can’t a guy get some sleep?”

Half-awake, he didn’t even notice Wang Jue and Lan Yiyi, reaching out to grope for the light switch.

Wang Jue was unfazed by the man’s sudden awakening. Whether he was asleep or awake made no difference; if he was asleep, he would never wake again, and if awake, he would be sent back to sleep—permanently.

Two swift sounds of a sword slicing through flesh rang out. Wang Jue dispatched both men without hesitation, fulfilling the phrase “strike and kill, bodies carried away” as he took their lives in an instant.

The unlucky man on the upper bunk barely had time to gasp in pain as blood poured from his throat before he met his end.

Within seconds, the blood from the wounds of the two sleeping men soaked half the mattress.

“Let’s go. Next one,” Wang Jue said coolly to Lan Yiyi, as if he had just killed two chickens.

Lan Yiyi was left speechless by his efficiency and the terrifying ease with which he acted. She had wanted to say something, but before she could, Wang Jue was already out the door toward the next target.

At the target room, Wang Jue found the door locked. Without hesitation, he drove his sword through the lock and opened the door effortlessly, undeterred by any resistance.

He entered, turned on the light, identified his target, killed, and left—a seamless series of actions, carried out without mercy.

By the time Lan Yiyi made it back to the living room, Wang Jue was already there. The two met in the center of the house.

“Where to next?” he asked.

Lan Yiyi nodded. “Mm.”

Soon, they arrived at the last target’s room. This time, the situation was different—unlike before, the people were awake.

As soon as they entered, Wang Jue was spotted by the men inside, who were sitting in the living room drinking. One of them looked familiar; after searching his memory, Wang Jue recognized him—it was Brother Qian, the fat man he’d seen at his door with the now-dead blond.

The others were strangers to him.

“It’s you?” Fatty Qian’s face froze with shock when he saw Wang Jue. He remembered Wang Jue well, especially after hearing that some of the money extorted from Wang’s family had been reclaimed. A sense of foreboding had lingered in his heart—no one knew better than he how dangerous Wang Jue was.

If it had been an ordinary man, he wouldn’t have cared. But Wang Jue was a martial artist! That was why he hadn’t slept all night—partly because the money had been taken back, leaving him fuming while others mocked him, and partly because he feared Wang Jue’s revenge and wanted to be ready to escape.

But never in his wildest dreams had he imagined Wang Jue would come for revenge so suddenly, so swiftly.

And when he spotted the trace of blood on Wang Jue’s sword, Fatty Qian’s face twitched with terror.

He didn’t need to guess—something had gone terribly wrong.