Translator:
CatCyan_
Editor:
Zayn_
Shawn was arrogant like a wolf.
Su Bai was more flexible; he’d rather wrong the world than have it wrong him.
When they looked at each other, they both felt something by instinct, but after Su Bai’s action, Shawn let down his guard because he always looked down on the insignificant people in the story world.
But Su Bai had made up his mind to kill since the second they saw each other.
Su Bai had met other western audiences in another story world, but those people were not more skillful or high-ranked, and they were facing the same danger. Therefore, they were not fighting against each other. But without saying anything, they voluntarily formed two groups.
However, in this story world, Su Bai, Fatty, Seven and Gyatso had tricked one another multiple times; no one could trust one another. Of course, Su Bai wouldn’t leave a western audience as a potential threat.
Although they might not be working against each other, or even might be aiming for the same goal, Su Bai couldn’t take the risk. And he didn’t have to take any risk. If he was one of those eastern audiences, Su Bai might have hesitated, but he was a foreigner. In Su Bai’s mind, anyone who was not his kind could be an enemy.
It was just that simple.
One didn’t need many rightful reasons to kill someone in a story world.
Even looking odd could be one of the reasons.
Exorciser easily cut into Shawn’s waist. It was a cunning cut with perfect angle and position. And it was a surprise from Shawn’s behind.
In a real fight, it was always important to attack first. Most of the time, success was determined by the advantage based on the first attack.
When the Murder Club was founded, Su Bai was trained systematically by both Aroma from a military family and Chu Zhao from a cop family. Besides, Su Bai had been influenced by his parents before they were killed. His parent had been involved in sinister gangs. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have had a bodyguard like Nine.
Su Bai retreated immediately after his first attack succeeded.
Usually, the attacked would madly try his best to strike back because, on one hand, it was the instant physical response to pain. On the other hand, it was the natural reaction against emotional stimulation.
It would be the best if he could terminate his target immediately after the first strike. Otherwise, it would be wise to keep a safe distance for the moment.
Su Bai didn’t know what Shawn was capable of, or whether he could handle Shawn’s constant striking back.
Howl!
Shawn howled in rage after being attacked. Then he twisted his body; his skin turned dark green, his hands changed into claws and his face turned into a werewolf look. He didn’t turn into a wolf; such a half-human-half-wolf state could give full play to both human wits and wolf skills.
The muscles on his waist started to tighten up; his wound was clamped, but blood was still running out. Shawn glanced over Exorciser in Su Bai’s hand. He was shocked to find out that this eastern dagger was so ferocious that its sharpness stayed in his wound after it was pulled out and was keep his wound from healing.
Werewolf? Interesting.
Su Bai held the dagger in one hand, clutched the other fist and started bouncing on the spot like a boxer.
In the distance, Fatty opened the curtain from inside the carriage. Seeing what was going on, he couldn’t help swallowing.
Werewolf? Western people love that. There are western audiences in this story?
Gyatso said slowly,
Nothing special. Have you met any other eastern audiences?
It’s not because fate brought us together, but because weaker audiences were taken out by someone else. Of course, many died in that demon nest, but that can’t be all of them. Western players must have killed the rest of them.
But we’re almost disabled! Isn’t Su Bai asking for trouble? We should be hiding when we can’t handle any trouble.
Fatty was a little angry. If he wasn’t hurt, he might be more excited than anyone else when they encountered a western audience, but he was in bad shape and couldn’t take the risk now.
Seven looked at him.
You were the one asking for Beggar’s Chicken, so you were the one who led us to trouble. It must be a coincidence; thanks to Su Bai, he’s fast enough so we still have some advantages.
Seven looked at the baby sitting in the carriage, made gestures and said,
Good boy, let’s drive away, okay? Otherwise we’ll be a burden to Su Bai.
The baby looked at Seven, climbed out and grabbed the rein with one tiny hand. But he didn’t pull it or swing a whip, just made the post and started babbling.
And the horse was moving. It turned around and dragged the carriage away.
This kid! I wish I had such a smart son!
Fatty said enviously.
It’s such a pity that we have to send him into the demon nest. Alas.
Seven said nothing but ‘Amitabh’.
Gyatso was silent.
These two monks were planing to eat this baby. Now it seemed that he had been away from his mother for long enough, and that old man in the painting must have done something. The spiritual energy he carried was almost taken in by himself. To eat him now would be like eating a hundred-years-old ginseng, precious but not priceless. There was no need to offend Su Bai for such a small benefit. After all, Su Bai was in the best condition among the four of them at this moment.
Suddenly, Seven opened his eyes.
Son, stop right there. Don’t move.
The kid frowned and spit his tongue out to the people behind the curtain. Clearly, he was not fond of this capricious monk.
Seven, what’s wrong?
Fatty asked.
Gyatso started to knock on the bottom of the carriage with his knuckles.
Three senses are approaching from over there.
That western guy’s friends?
Fatty was surprised.
Sht! We’re dead! Bai could handle one, especially after his surprise attack succeeded. But we can do nothing but wait to be slaughtered!
We must do something. The carriage will never be faster than them,
Seven said thoughtfully.
Fatty, take out the small bottle from my chest,
Gyatso said. His only arm was broken. Although it was fixed, it would take days before he could use this arm. Now, he couldn’t pick up anything, let alone fight.
Fatty touched Gyatso’s breast and felt him up.
Gyatso’s face fell.
The other side.
Oh. You should have said earlier.
Fatty took out a bottle and pulled out the plug,
Damn it! It’s philter!
Do you have any spell for stimulating the medicine? No, for arousing one’s energy and spirit.
Gyatso looked at Fatty.
Yeah.
Fatty took out a handful of spell paper from his pocket. When he was suffering from poison, he could do nothing but draw on spell paper so he had made all kinds of spells, though they were not very efficient.
Dip them in water, and put the red beads in. Then we shall share it,
Gyatso said.
Seven nodded.
Fatty paused for a second. Philter? One last orgy before they die together? With the other two men?
Do it.
Seven felt a headache. He could tell what Fatty was thinking about. Sometimes, Fatty was so smart, but sometimes, he just went on the wrong way easily.
Since Seven said it, Fatty realized he might have had the wrong idea. He immediately picked up the kettle, burnt the spell paper and added it into the kettle.
After a few shakes, Fatty took a deep breath.
Bottoms up?
No more than one-third.
Gyatso reminded him.
Fatty nodded, finished his share with two gulps and fed Gyatso with a few sips. At last, Seven took the kettle and drank it up.
…
Michael was holding a wand. The power of wind enveloped him in pale blue light and made him much faster than Pierce and Jerre.
Pierce had a black longbow. When he was running, his hair was waving in the air, revealing his pointed ears.
Jerre’s muscles were plumping up, every step he took would leave a clear footprint.
The three of them were resting in the church nearby and rushed here after sensing Shawn’s wolfish scent. Now, they were seeing a carriage slowly approaching; it was being driven by a baby.
Michael cast over a confused look. But the three of them moved on without hesitation.
Next…
They heard a wolf howl. It wasn’t a werewolf’s howl filled with violence and blood thirst. This one came with boundless desolation and extraordinary vigor.
Michael took a deep breath. Pierce and Jerre looked at Michael and followed him forward.
Amitabh!
From inside the carriage, there came a mighty Sanskrit word, with vast overruling power!
Michael slowed down, looking serious. Behind him, Pierce had already stopped running and put an arrow on his bow, while Jerre was ready to enhance his savage blood to its extreme.
Buddha of… Immeasurable Divinity!
Boom!
The sky thundered. Could it be a coincidence?
Michael finally stopped. He raised his hand to warn his partners not to move recklessly.
In the carriage, Fatty’s nose had started bleeding. Taking a look at his stiff pnis, he asked while trembling:
Were they… scared… away?
