Chapter Sixty-Six: Who Will Die First, You or I?

(My apologies to all the readers. I really am such a fool. This chapter had already been uploaded, but in my daze, I forgot to hit “publish.” I promised to update before one o’clock, yet it’s now past three... Sweat pours down like a waterfall...)

Chapter Sixty-Six: Will You Die First, or Will I?

Qiu Yun pursued with lightning speed, but the “Young Master Xu” ahead was surprisingly swift as well. The two of them, one chasing the other, darted through the labyrinth of derelict factories. “Young Master Xu,” though appearing desperate, raced wildly, weaving left and right through the maze of abandoned buildings, using the complex terrain to lead Qiu Yun in circles for quite a distance.

At last, rounding a bend ahead, Qiu Yun saw the young man’s pace finally falter. He clutched his chest, gasping for breath as he ran. Qiu Yun sneered inwardly: As expected of a rich boy, delicate and frail.

If he truly meant to intercept him, he could have already unleashed the surrounding metal. But this hostage had to be taken alive.

With a few long strides, Qiu Yun closed in behind “Young Master Xu,” reaching out to seize his shoulder and sneering, “Xu family brat, out of breath already?”

Just as his fingers pressed on the other’s shoulder—and with no apparent resistance—a subtle sense of foreboding suddenly pricked Qiu Yun’s heart.

He felt a sharp sting in his palm. Glancing down, he saw a tiny cut, from which a bead of blood welled.

Looking up, he found the “Xu family brat” wearing a curious expression. It turned out that, hidden beneath the loose folds of his robe, the young man had been gripping a fine wooden splinter, positioning it over his shoulder—easy to conceal beneath the spacious garment. Qiu Yun had assumed, after all, that the Xu family’s scion was a powerless ordinary youth, and had let down his guard.

Qiu Yun found it odd. Was a splinter in his palm really supposed to hinder him? Such childish tricks!

But then, to his astonishment, he saw the “Xu family brat” clutch the splinter—still stained with Qiu Yun’s blood—and drive it fiercely into his own flesh!

What on earth was he doing?

Though puzzled, Qiu Yun had no time to ponder further. He reached again for the young man’s wrist.

This time, as his fingers touched the skin, a surge of unexpected, overwhelming strength broke free from the youth’s grasp!

Then, with a shift of his stance and a deep exhale, the Xu family brat twisted around and threw a heavy punch straight at Qiu Yun’s face!

At such close range, Qiu Yun’s skills should have made this punch trivial. Yet as the fist neared, he sensed something was wrong—the force of the blow whipped the very air, sending his hair flying before the fist even landed!

Qiu Yun’s eyes narrowed instantly. He twisted his body to the left, dodging the strike to his head, but the punch crashed into his shoulder instead—

Bang!

Qiu Yun was sent flying backward, tumbling through the air. When he landed, his feet struck a sheet of rusty iron, which shattered beneath his weight! He steadied himself, shoulder burning with pain, and glared sharply at “Young Master Xu,” his voice cold with fury: “You’re not the Xu family brat! Who are you?!”

Chen Xiao lifted his head. His features and expression had returned to their true form. He looked at Qiu Yun and smirked mockingly: “Why don’t you guess?”

A flicker of surprise flashed in Qiu Yun’s eyes. “It’s you? How could you…”

His face darkened. “So, little fledgling, you were hiding your strength all along—and you can even mimic abilities.”

After a pause, his tone turned angry. “Hmph, you went to all this trouble to lure me away, but didn’t care about your own survival?!”

With that, he swiftly snatched up two broken pieces of iron from the ground, and with a cold laugh, hurled them at Chen Xiao like twin whirlwinds!

Chen Xiao’s pupils contracted, but he clenched his fist and slammed it into the nearby factory wall—the decaying wall gave way instantly under his monstrous strength, opening a hole large enough for him to leap through.

He dove inside, landing hard and rolling desperately across the floor. Behind him, a thunderous explosion erupted—the sheets of iron had detonated!

Fragments tore through the air, shredding the wall behind him like a sieve. Chen Xiao barely managed to roll aside, but agony lanced through his back—shrapnel from the blast had punched through the wall, embedding itself deep in his flesh!

Blood poured down his back. He forced himself up, nearly fainting from the pain and blood loss.

Behind him, Qiu Yun’s expression was grim as he stepped through the gaping hole in the wall. His long hair shaded eyes full of menace as he glared at Chen Xiao. “Fledgling, you’ve ruined my plans. Do you really think I won’t kill someone from the Service Society?”

His words dripped with murderous intent.

Chen Xiao knew he had nothing left for another fight—the last few heavy blows had drained him utterly. He was already injured, and had only managed to recover a bit of strength after resting half the night.

He relaxed his body, dragged himself backward, and, lying on the ground, gazed up at Qiu Yun with a fearless, almost serene smile. “Qiu Yun, you’re mistaken about one thing. I’m not a member of the Service Society.”

Qiu Yun frowned, pondering. “Ah… right, Zhu Rong and the others have retired. Hmph, so you were just their apprentice, not an official member. In that case, killing you means nothing!”

He turned aside, reached out, and drove his fingers—sharp as claws—into the wall, tearing free a steel bar in one swift motion. Chen Xiao’s heart raced—Qiu Yun’s strength was not to be underestimated.

With a crack, Qiu Yun ripped the rebar from the wall and strode over to where Chen Xiao lay, looming above him. “I’ve said before, I don’t particularly enjoy killing people… Not for any noble reason, mind you. Care to guess why?”

Chen Xiao panted, then burst into laughter. “Are you charitable at heart? Ha! That doesn’t suit you.”

“Charitable?” Qiu Yun’s eyes brimmed with wicked delight. He twirled the steel bar before Chen Xiao, his voice growing eerily gentle. “I’ll tell you—it’s because I’m too cruel by nature. Every time I kill, I prefer to torment my victim in the most excruciating ways imaginable. In the Black Knights, they all call me a maniac. So, I try to restrain myself and don’t kill easily.”

He brandished the rebar, its sharp tip hovering over Chen Xiao’s chest, and said softly, “Fledgling, I’ll first cut open your chest, then use this to pluck out your organs, one by one. Last will be your intestines. Ever seen noodles? Yes, just like that. I guarantee it’s a pleasure you couldn’t imagine even in your worst nightmares.”

His voice became ever more “tender,” but that gentleness, paired with his feverish eyes, was more terrifying than any threat.

Chen Xiao forced a bitter smile and sighed, “Why is it that the more proper a person seems, the more deranged they become when they snap…”

Thud!

The steel bar drove through Chen Xiao’s shoulder, piercing muscle and bone, nailing him to the ground! Chen Xiao screamed, his facial muscles contorting, his body trembling uncontrollably from agony so intense he bit his own lip bloody. Yet after the cry, he glared at Qiu Yun and shouted wildly, “Ha! Ha! Good! Good!!”

Qiu Yun licked his lips, then yanked the rebar free, his eyes shining with sadistic excitement. “Good? Ha ha! Excellent! Scream all you want—it only makes it more fun. If you started sobbing and begging, it’d be boring.”

Though Chen Xiao was on the verge of blacking out from pain, some strange force kept his consciousness afloat.

As Qiu Yun raised the bar to strike again, Chen Xiao summoned the last of his strength and grabbed at the steel—but he was too weak now, and could not stop his tormentor—

Blood spurted as the rebar stabbed halfway into his shoulder once more. Chen Xiao growled in agony.

“How does it feel, fledgling?” Qiu Yun brushed his hair from his brow.

Chen Xiao’s breath was ragged, his voice trembling, but he forced himself to laugh—wild, defiant laughter.

“Qiu Yun, let’s see who dies first—you, or me!”

What?

Qiu Yun’s eyes changed.

This stubborn brat—facing death, yet still so unyielding?

“Ha! I die first? You die first?” Qiu Yun laughed madly. “I’m curious—how do you imagine my death?”

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