Chapter 23: What a Family of Performers!

The old man gripped the meat cleaver, launching a surprise attack from behind, while Tang Bandit wielded a skewer of red willow, assaulting from the front. With one ahead and one behind, they formed a pincer.

Yes, this was the tacit cooperation between Tang Bandit and the old man. What does it mean to be in perfect sync? To have minds that think alike? To share a bond beyond words?

Tang Bandit had been raised by the old man, who had cared for him through thick and thin; the old man, in turn, had been supported in his old age by Tang Bandit’s generosity. They understood each other’s temperament too well.

When Tang Bandit suddenly cursed at the old man, shouting he was afflicted with a venereal disease, the old man instantly knew what he intended. So he pretended to be provoked, grabbed the meat cleaver from the table, and charged at Tang Bandit.

He had no intention of truly killing Tang Bandit—how could he? Sure enough, as his movement turned agile and his body accelerated, the meat cleaver was aimed at Wuying’s back.

Tang Bandit didn’t disappoint either. In the instant the old man struck, he transformed the skewer in his hand into a short spear, thrusting it at Wuying’s head.

Wuying had nowhere to advance, nowhere to retreat; only death awaited him.

Bang!

The old man’s dagger struck Wuying’s back, and he could feel the blade slicing—

Something was wrong!

The sensation of the cleaver cutting through cloth and flesh should be soft, smooth, even faintly warm. But this touch was unnaturally hard, as if scraping against steel or stone.

Tang Bandit sensed the same anomaly; his skewer had clearly jabbed Wuying’s head. He’d imagined the sharpened red willow piercing the scalp, breaking the skull, plunging deep into the head—

He liked stabbing heads, because death came swiftly that way, with no chance to feign.

Yet things weren’t as he’d expected.

It wouldn’t go in!

Crack!

The red willow skewer bent rapidly, then snapped into several pieces.

Having missed their strike, Tang Bandit and the old man retreated frantically, like startled old dogs.

One of the survival rules atop the ruins: you can hold back when fighting, but when fleeing, always give your all.

Then, one in front and one behind, they sized up Wuying as if studying some rare, endangered beast.

He stood there unmoving, dispelling their deadly joint assault?

A bit awkward!

The old man looked down at the meat cleaver in his hand, the blade now curled, and asked, puzzled, “What are you?”

“If you don’t understand, just ask. How can you curse someone?” Tang Bandit protested, feeling the old man lacked manners.

Then, looking humbly at Wuying, he asked, “Why does my spearhead fail to kill?”

Wuying shifted sideways, avoiding being attacked from front and back, and regarded the pair before him with a complicated gaze.

The old one was cunning, the young one sly.

He wore a mask, hiding his startled expression, but in his heart, he knew—when these two suddenly attacked, he’d been flustered.

He hadn’t expected the seemingly unimpressive old man to be a hidden expert, his clumsy gait and sluggish moves mere disguises. Nor had he thought the barbecue boy, barely fifteen and delicate in appearance, would be so ruthless, stabbing at heads with his skewer.

Their strike was meant to kill, not wound or maim.

Were all monsters atop the ruins like this?

Wufeng, seeing his companion flounder, burst out laughing.

He moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Wuying, both to speak more easily and to block the doorway together.

He realized, too—these folks were not to be trifled with.

Wuying nudged Wufeng, teasing, “What’s wrong? Nearly capsized in a gutter?”

“Be careful, they’re tough to handle,” Wuying warned.

“I see that now,” Wufeng nodded, saying, “Never thought this trash planet, long abandoned and ruined, still had such skilled people... But it makes sense. In this harsh environment, there’s nothing one wouldn’t do to survive.”

The eyes behind the mask glanced at Tang Bandit. “What do you say, youngster?”

“How can you judge people with prejudice? Though we live on Old Earth, our hearts are bright... The old man isn’t much to look at, even a bit sleazy, but whenever he has a chance, he cares for the village’s widows and wives...”

Wuying and Wufeng glanced around nervously, wary of another sneak attack.

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After all, it was just moments ago that Tang Bandit had insulted the old man's character, prompting him to charge in a rage with his knife...

They had seen through their tricks and were well prepared.

Unfortunately, this time the old man made no move, only played with his curled-blade meat cleaver, smiling insincerely.

Tang Bandit pointed to Fatty, “And Fatty—don’t let his size fool you, he’s got a good heart... If he sees someone can’t eat, he’ll put down the bowl he’s stealing food with.”

Fatty beamed, happy to be praised by his big brother, grinning even wider at the joke.

“And myself...” Tang Bandit showed his white teeth in an earnest, genial smile, as if introducing himself to new friends. “I’m not a good man. I’ve hunted, I’ve killed... So, you’d better not bully my family. Go back to wherever you came from.”

“Are you threatening us?” Wufeng found the scene absurd.

Who were they? Renowned killers on the New Star.

Avatars of death, reaping wherever they went. Whether officials or billionaires, when faced with them, all could only weep and beg for mercy.

They had come to silence witnesses, and yet these refugees dared drive them away?

How did these wretches atop the ruins have such nerve?

“No, I’m expelling you.” Tang Bandit kept smiling, as if politely “communicating.”

“We can’t leave.” Wuying shook his head.

“That’s right, we can’t leave.” Wufeng’s gaze shifted to Phoenix, who stood silently nearby. He grinned, “We’re here to take an old friend back with us.”

“I don’t know whom you serve, but have you considered? Even if you get the money, if things are exposed, will you live to spend it?” Phoenix stared coldly at Wuying and Wufeng, questioning them.

“You don’t understand—it’s not just about money,” Wufeng, ever talkative, explained. “Of course, your concern makes sense, so, whatever happens, we can’t let things leak.”

“In this lawless, chaotic world, will you die at the hands of a marauder gang, the Flame Temple, or some contemptible refugee... Who can say?”

“Do you think they’ll believe?”

“Belief doesn’t matter. Without evidence, what can they do?” Wufeng boasted. “There are so many unresolved matters in this world—what’s one more?”

“Stop talking, get to work,” Wuying reminded.

“Not waiting for them?”

“Finish, then wait.”

“Alright.” Wufeng drew two crescent-shaped daggers from his waist, holding one in each hand.

Phoenix stepped forward, standing before Tang Bandit and the old man, saying, “You want me. Let them go. They know nothing.”

“That’s unwise. They are innocent, but their greatest fault was bringing you home.” Wufeng tapped his daggers, producing a pleasant chime.

“Know how I found you? We asked around for a strangely dressed, possibly injured woman... Someone told me he carried you back. See, finding you wasn’t so hard.”

Phoenix had only asked on a whim, knowing they’d kill all witnesses, but still hoping for a chance.

After her suggestion was rejected, she whispered to Tang Bandit behind her, “I’ll hold them off; you take Fatty and run...”

She’d seen Tang Bandit and the old man attack Wuying earlier. Though there was no outward sign of their power, their swift, decisive moves were impressive. Whether they could win was uncertain, but escape seemed assured.

She would take on Wuying and Wufeng, while Tang Bandit and the old man could drag Fatty away.

Fatty was too slow; Phoenix worried he couldn’t run fast.

“Alright.” Tang Bandit nodded, proudly. “You’re at the Qi Mastery stage; they can’t beat you.”

“...”

Phoenix wanted to curse.

Exposing your teammate’s strength so bluntly? Now they’ll be on guard—it’ll be much harder to pull off any trick.

Still, since they’d found her, they must have investigated her abilities. Those who hired them would surely provide intel.

“Heh, Qi Mastery, eh?” Wufeng sneered. “So young, already at Qi Mastery—on New Star, that’s remarkable... Truly born under a lucky star.”

Wuying glanced at Wufeng. “Why say so much nonsense?”

They couldn’t reveal Phoenix’s true identity; she must be killed as an “ordinary refugee.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her; you make sure they don’t escape,” said Wufeng.

“They’re not going anywhere,” replied Wuying.

After the earlier exchange, if their strength was only what had been shown, they couldn’t even breach his nanite defense suit, let alone harm him.

Stopping them would be “no trouble at all.”

So easy!

Meanwhile, Phoenix unfurled her Phoenix Whip.

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Silver light flashed, hissing through the air.

“Do you know why I’m called Wufeng?” he asked.

“Isn’t it because you’re fast?” Phoenix sneered, “Let’s see whether your speed tops my whip...”

As she spoke, she leaped high, lashing the whip at Wufeng’s head.

She launched the attack first.

Phoenix knew assassins skilled in speed had their own attack systems. If allowed to deploy them around you, breaking through would be nearly impossible.

There’s an old saying on Blue Star: all martial arts are defeated by speed.

Wufeng hadn’t expected Phoenix to seize the initiative; with both hands gripping his crescent blades, his body vanished in a gust of black wind.

First, drain her strength, then strike for the kill.

For top-tier killers like them, murder was just a single decisive blow.

The crucial knife.

Phoenix’s movement was light and agile; the whip danced like a storm in her hands, sparks and lightning flying, impressive to behold.

But Wufeng, true to his name, flitted like wind—formless and elusive, impossible to track.

Thus, every whip infused with yin-yang energy struck only air.

Soon, Phoenix was panting; having just entered Qi Mastery, her yin-yang energy was unstable, and overuse had thrown her breath into chaos.

Wufeng rejoiced inwardly, knowing his moment had come.

Phoenix was noble, always surrounded by guards, rarely fighting herself. Even then, who dared truly strike to kill?

So her combat experience was shallow. Who empties their strength at the start?

Once exhausted, with her energy depleted, she’d be helpless.

If Phoenix died by his hand, he’d earn the largest reward.

And the gene potion to boost his power would be his, making advancement within reach.

Why didn’t Wuying want to send the location to Mr. Shanhe and wait for him before acting? He had the same ambitions.

Sure enough, events unfolded as Wufeng expected.

When Phoenix landed, she stepped on a large bone, stumbling.

“Now’s my chance!”

Wufeng was ecstatic, but kept cool and controlled.

The black wind swept toward Phoenix; his two crescent blades became the scythes of death.

One blade slashed at Phoenix’s throat.

Phoenix, startled, tried to entangle his dagger with her whip.

But she forgot—Wufeng held another dagger...

The other blade stabbed straight at Phoenix’s chest.

“Here it is!”

Phoenix’s panic turned to delight; her Phoenix Whip became a lightning spear, piercing Wufeng’s chest before he could strike.

An inch short is an inch perilous. An inch longer is an inch stronger.

Men ought to use spears!

Long spears!

Slash!

Pain tore through Wufeng’s chest; he looked down to see a gaping hole.

No blood yet, not even time for it to flow.

He stared wide-eyed at Phoenix—he’d been played?

Her unstable energy was a ruse, the bone a ploy, the deliberate opening a trap—to lure him into revealing himself?

“Damn it!” Wufeng couldn’t help but curse.

This whole family of actors!

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