Chapter 167

The man said harshly, “It’s a shame you’re not worthy.”
Xie Wendong sighed again and slowly said, “I’ve gathered quite a few ghosts and spirits in China, but it seems I still haven’t gotten rid of them all.”
The man’s expression changed; his hair and beard stood on end—though he had no beard—as he glared at Xie Wendong with fury. After a long while, he said fiercely, “So you must repay what you owe.”
Xie Wendong replied helplessly, “I want to repay it too. But there are countless souls I’ve taken, yet I only have one life. To whom should I give them back?”
“Then I’ll take them first!” The man said, rushing forward, gripping the handle of his knife, and thrusting it at Xie Wendong’s abdomen. The attack was fierce, fast, and brutal. Xie Wendong couldn’t dodge and could only retreat. With each step he took back, the man stepped forward, the knife tip pressing against his clothes—just half an inch more, and it would pierce his body. So Xie Wendong had no choice but to retreat. He stepped off the road into the forest, where a tree as thick as two people stood blocking his path. A spark of excitement flashed in the man’s eyes. Though Xie Wendong couldn’t see behind him, the man’s gaze told him everything.
The closer Xie Wendong got to the tree, the more excited the man became. He gathered all his strength in his arms and shouted, aiming to pierce Xie Wendong’s abdomen and pin him to the tree in one strike. Even Xie Wendong could feel the murderous intent from the knife’s edge. Though separated by clothes, the intense coldness was terrifying.
Seeing the armed police move, Sanyan fired reflexively, then felt pain in his wrist as the gun was kicked away by the police officer’s side kick. The two quickly separated, standing three steps apart. Sanyan shook his sore wrist and sneered, “You’re quite skilled!”
The armed police didn’t respond, his face pale. Sanyan was too fast—he fired as soon as the police officer moved. Though he missed the vital spot, the bullet pierced his arm, causing it to ache and go numb, leaving him unable to use it at all. Blood streamed down his arm onto the ground. Sanyan glanced at it and sighed, “What a shame. I was aiming for your heart with that shot.” The armed police’s voice remained calm, icy as ever, “I’m still standing, but you no longer have a gun.”

Three-Eyes snapped his fingers and said, “You know, guns aren’t really my strength. What I like best is using a knife—especially the pleasure of cutting through an enemy’s throat.” The armed police officer said expressionlessly, “Then why haven’t you drawn your knife yet?” Before he could finish speaking, Three-Eyes already had a mountain-cutting knife over a foot long and three inches wide in his hand. The blade was thick, shiny, and free of any imperfections. The armed police officer sighed, “That’s a good knife!”
Three-Eyes nodded, looking at the knife in his hand with affection. “Indeed, it’s a good knife,” he said. The armed police officer added, “Killing with this knife won’t cause pain.” Three-Eyes replied, “I guarantee there won’t be any pain.” The officer nodded, pulled back his shirt, and drew a Japanese katana over two feet long from behind him. He swung it in the air once before saying, “This is also a good knife.” Three-Eyes nodded. “It’s a good knife too. It all depends on the person using it.” With that, he stepped forward toward the armed police officer and swung the knife downward with great force, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound. The officer shouted and raised his knife to block it. There was a crisp clang. Three-Eyes stepped back, while the officer stepped back three times. Looking down at his blade, he saw a gap the size of a grain of rice. Three-Eyes also checked his own mountain-cutting knife—it was still sharp and intact. Smiling triumphantly, he shouted, “Be careful!” and charged forward again.
The two fought back and forth, moving up and down in a fierce duel. As they fought, Three-Eyes secretly admired the opponent’s skill. Every strike from the other man was cunning and fast, like lightning. He would often neutralize Three-Eyes’ offensive advantages with a single move. Clearly, this man dressed as an armed police officer had specialized in swordsmanship and was extremely proficient. If not for being injured first, Three-Eyes felt he might not be able to match him. The armed police officer grew increasingly alarmed. Although the opponent’s attacks were chaotic, each one targeted vital points. Without proper defense, a single strike could leave him seriously injured or even kill him. The opponent also had great strength; the officer’s arm went numb from the force, and he gradually stopped trying to confront Three-Eyes head-on and instead tried to dodge his attacks.

At first, the armed police could hold their ground, but it seemed as if Sanyan had endless strength and tremendous stamina. The more they fought, the paler the armed police became. Their intense movements accelerated blood flow, causing their wounds to bleed profusely, and their strength was gradually drained. They secretly thought that if this continued, they might not survive. Taking advantage of a gap, they glanced around the battlefield—they were clearly at a disadvantage. Although the men they brought were elites, they still fell far short compared to a regular army. Eight or nine out of ten of the corpses on the ground were theirs. With a sigh, they used all their strength to swing their swords to push back Sanyan, then seized the rare opportunity to dash out and flee into the forest.

Xie Wendong was forced into a desperate situation by that man’s sword, with no way to escape upward or downward, retreating in utter disarray. Just as he was about to hit the ground, whether intentionally or tripped by an old tree root, he suddenly collapsed straight down. The sword blade sliced across his upper garment and passed close to his nose. Only he knew how perilous that moment was.

The man had used too much force. With Xie Wendong’s sudden collapse, he couldn’t control his swing, and the sword pierced into the tree. In an instant, the man sensed something was wrong and tried to pull the sword back to strike downward. His guess was correct—Xie Wendong was indeed beneath him. By the time he pulled out the sword, it was already too late.

His speed in drawing the sword was fast, but Xie Wendong was even faster. The moment he fell, the golden sword slipped from his wrist into his palm. With a slight shake of his wrist, the sword flew out, its silver thread wrapping around the giant man’s legs. He immediately rolled aside, avoiding the man’s attack. As soon as Xie Wendong rolled away, the man swung his sword downward, driving it more than half a foot into the soil—showing just how much force he had used.

Xie Wendong was also drenched in cold sweat. If he hadn’t dodged just now, even with protective gear, he would likely have been fatally wounded. He raised his wrist, narrowed his eyes at the man, and smiled, saying, “What a pity about that sword strike. If it had hit me, I would definitely be dead!”

The man hadn’t realized his legs were already entangled in the silver thread. He growled, “It’s a shame it didn’t hit you. But don’t get too confident. Just because you dodged this strike doesn’t mean you can dodge my next one.”

“Not necessarily!” Xie Wendong raised an eyebrow and said with a smile, “I think it’s not certain either.” With a strong pull of his wrist, he sent the man falling to the ground. The man still didn’t understand what was happening when he suddenly hit the ground. He roared in pain, trying to get up by pushing himself on his hands, only to see two bloody but familiar things before him. Upon closer inspection, they were his own severed lower legs—cut cleanly, as if by a sharp blade. In disbelief, he looked up at his legs, then at Xie Wendong’s smiling face. Only then did the intense pain in his legs hit him like a tidal wave, jarring his nerves. The man writhed in agony on the ground, his wakizashi lying aside, his facial muscles twitching and contorting, yet he didn’t utter a sound—only biting at the dirt with his mouth, blood seeping from his gums.

Xie Wendong slowly retracted his sword and said calmly, “Many have tried to capture my soul in the past, but unfortunately, not only did they fail, they ended up having their own souls captured instead. I thought people could become smarter, but I overestimated you.”

The man’s face was as pale as paper, sweat dripping down his face, dirt filling his mouth. He mumbled, “If you’re human, kill me!”

Xie Wendong looked up at the sky and asked, “Is Ma Feng connected to the Soul Group?”

The man didn’t answer. Instead, he struggled to crawl toward the wakizashi he had dropped earlier, leaving a bloody trail behind. Xie Wendong walked over to him, sighed with pity, and said, “It seems he’s already in contact with the Soul Group, and their relationship is quite close. What do they plan to do together?”

The man couldn’t answer; he continued to struggle to crawl. Xie Wendong crouched beside him and nodded. “Both sides have a blood feud with me. Killing me is naturally their common goal. It seems the Soul Group has adopted the tactics of the Tiger Gang, trying to find an agent in China. Ma Feng is indeed a good candidate—young and capable. Does the Southern Hongmen know about his connection to the Soul Group?” The man was now very close to the knife, his fingers just an inch away. Xie Wendong shook his head. “Someone like Xiang Wentian would never coexist with a gang like the Soul Group. So he must not know. It seems Ma Feng also secretly contacted the Soul Group. If Xiang Wentian finds out, Ma Feng’s life will be ‘very pleasant’ from then on.”

The man finally grabbed the knife and screamed. Instead of stabbing at Xie Wendong, he plunged it into his own chest. Xie Wendong sighed and said, “Actually, you didn’t have to die.”

The armed police officer who had fought against Sanyan happened to see this scene as he dived into the forest. His face turned pale, and without hesitation, he rushed toward Xie Wendong, slashing at him with his sword. Xie Wendong looked at the corpse on the ground, about to express his thoughts, when suddenly someone jumped out from the side and slashed at him, startling him. Instinctively, he stepped back, and the katana left a cut over a foot long on his clothes. Seeing that the first strike wasn’t fatal, the armed police officer raised his sword again. With no weapon in hand, Xie Wendong had no choice but to step back once more. The man took advantage of this to quickly bend down, pluck a strand of hair from the corpse on the ground, hold it in his hand, let out a mournful cry, and dashed deep into the forest. His hoarse voice echoed through the woods: “I will definitely return to avenge this!”
Xie Wendong glanced at the cut on his clothes and shouted after the man’s disappearing figure, “It’s a deal! I’ll be waiting for you to return anytime!”
At that moment, Sanyan also rushed over. Hearing Xie Wendong’s shout, he asked in confusion, “Brother Dong, what did you say about a deal? Waiting for whom to return?”
Xie Wendong smiled and said, “It’s nothing. Just joking with the guy who ran away just now.” “Oh!” Sanyan shook his head helplessly before suddenly saying, “By the way, that guy belongs to the Soul Group.” Xie Wendong nodded. “I thought the Soul Group had retreated from China. I didn’t expect them to suffer setbacks in the northeast and come to Yunnan to find an agent.” After saying that, he went over to the corpse, tore off its sleeve, revealing the tattoo of the character “Soul” inside.
Sanyan frowned and snapped, “Damn it! These immortal ghosts are really persistent!” Xie Wendong chuckled and said, “They’ll come back to avenge themselves. Isn’t that interesting and fun?” Sanyan sighed, “It’s not fun at all. I feel like we’re playing with our lives.”
Xie Wendong replied, “What other game in the world is more thrilling than risking one’s life?!” Sanyan shook his head and remained silent.
With two members of the Soul Group dead and one fleeing, the battle quickly came to an end. Out of the less than twenty disguised armed police officers, thirteen were killed and five were seriously injured. It seemed they had spent more energy attacking than defending and were close to death. One person was also captured alive. This man hadn’t raised his hand once since the battle started. It was only when the soldiers cleaned up the battlefield that they pulled him out from the bushes. Thinking he hadn’t fought at all, he remained unharmed. He knelt on the ground, begging for mercy. Zhou Yu walked back and forth in front of him, looking very pleased.

He indeed had reason to be proud—his side lost not a single man while eliminating dozens of bandits. He could now even see a bright future ahead. He glanced at the captured man, who was around thirty years old, with messy hair covering his eyes but failing to hide his panicked expression. When he saw Zhou Yu pull out a pistol, his face turned even paler, his lips parted slightly as he trembled uncontrollably. Zhou Yu grabbed the man’s hair and pressed the gun barrel firmly against his chin, shouting, “Speak! How many more of you are there? Where is your hideout?” The man trembled and said, “I… I don’t know.”