Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Gate to Hell

"Quadruple Kill!"

Shan He gritted his teeth as he spoke.

The first round of bamboo arrows was just a lure, baiting the enemy deeper. I knew they couldn’t really hurt you, but I wanted to make it clear I was lying in wait just ahead. Jinta, eager to prove himself, charged forward at the front, only to find a great net waiting for him.

The second net was to restrict movement, confining one or several targets within a very narrow space. While they were immobilized, they would be picked off one by one.

The third volley was both the execution and the expulsion. Once caught, there was nowhere to hide—if death could be dealt, then so be it. Even if rescued, it didn’t matter; the net had already limited Jinta’s range of action to nothing more than the span of a palm.

Yes, at that moment Jinta was held aloft by Shan He himself. He had just rescued him from high above, not even having had the chance to set him down...

The fourth layer of killing intent was that machete—appearing and vanishing like a phantom, striking unseen.

When you thought you had dodged the bamboo arrows, a net awaited you in front. If, in the nick of time, you managed to cut the net and catch your breath, the machete arrived before you could react.

There was no escape, no defense.

This required not only overwhelming strength, but a deep psychological game as well.

Shan He was genuinely curious—what sort of person could devise such a flawless quadruple kill in such a short time?

Was it truly this boy before him, who looked barely old enough to grow a beard?

Shan He was a master at the Qi Manipulation Realm, his senses far superior to ordinary people. Even in this pitch-black night, his ears and eyes were keen enough to discern the colors of surrounding flowers and plants, or the rustling of insects and ants.

He could see Tang Fei’s face—a delicate and handsome youth, his features refined, putting even the most admired young men on the Starlit Ranking to shame.

But what left the deepest impression were those eyes—clear and bright, with a mocking smile and a brazen, outlaw air.

How could such an outstanding boy be born in the Old Lands?

Even nuclear radiation hadn’t burned out their minds?

Boom!

Shan He tossed the corpse of Jinta to the ground. The man was dead—there was no point in carrying him any longer.

Just as the Jester had said, the dead couldn’t offer any help to this team.

Shan He looked at Tang Fei and asked, “You set this trap?”

“Yes,” Tang Fei replied with a mischievous grin. “Are you satisfied?”

“It’s astonishing,” Shan He admitted. “That you all managed to set up such a quadruple kill in so little time... Honestly, it’s something we never expected. I admit, I’ve made another grave mistake. I underestimated you.”

“I thought I’d taken you seriously enough—I even made sure my team didn’t split up and give you the chance to pick us off one by one. But now I realize, I still underestimated you.”

Tang Fei waved his hand dismissively. “It’s really not that impressive. If you hadn’t been so foolish, our quadruple kill would have come to nothing.”

“Foolish?” Shan He eyed Tang Fei suspiciously.

“Exactly.” Tang Fei pointed at Jinta’s decapitated body on the ground. “If I’m not mistaken, this big guy practiced some defensive martial art like ‘Diamond Shield’ or ‘Iron Shirt’, didn’t he?”

Shan He’s gaze sharpened, and he nodded. “Yes.”

Jinta had indeed trained in a defensive technique called the ‘Tortoise Burst Art’, focused on defense—compressing himself to the absolute limit, then exploding out in a killing surge at the crucial moment.

That was why they had Jinta lead the way—he could block arrows in a pinch.

“Those techniques are tough to deal with. If you confront them head-on, it’s almost impossible to injure them unless you’re vastly more powerful. If you can’t find their weak point and your strength is equal, you could fight for days without a winner,” Tang Fei explained.

Then, narrowing his eyes, he thanked Shan He, “But in the end, I have you to thank, Uncle...”

“Oh? How did I help you?”

“If you’d put him down as soon as you rescued him and helped him cut the net, with his skill he could have easily protected himself. I never thought you’d keep holding him aloft, leaving him tangled and helpless in the net…”

“That was the perfect moment for the blade to strike. Uncle, don’t you think I should thank you?”

“Hahaha…”

The Jester burst out laughing.

He laughed until he was hoarse, doubling over and slapping his knees, stamping his feet on the spot.

Pointing at Shan He, he said, “Uncle Shan He… hahaha—I should thank you too, for getting rid of that big guy for me…”

“This is just too funny… In the end, it was one of our own who killed us… hahaha, how could this be so hilarious?”

Shan He’s expression darkened, a red light once more flashing in his eyes.

The Jester, unconcerned, acted as though he didn’t notice Shan He’s reaction. He pointed at Tang Fei, “Kid, what’s your name?”

“Tang Fei. Tang as in Tang Fei, Fei as in Tang Fei.”

“Interesting, very interesting. Kid, I like you—we’re birds of a feather.”

“I walk among the living, you walk among the dead. We’re not the same at all,” Tang Fei replied.

The Jester just laughed harder, pointing at Tang Fei, “Arrogant, so arrogant… I like you even more…”

“Shameless!”

The Jester’s laughter died abruptly.

Though he found the words even funnier, his face stiffened and he couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

Shan He looked at Tang Fei. “The quadruple kill is over, isn’t it?”

“It’s over,” Tang Fei replied.

“Then it’s our turn to perform.”

“Very well,” Tang Fei said cheerfully. “Now, please begin your performance.”

Before he finished speaking, Tang Fei spun around and ran.

Shan He leapt high into the air, like a cannonball launching skyward.

“Trying to run?” He soared through the treetops, pursuing Tang Fei—darting through the forest like a startled rabbit. “Leave your head behind for me.”

Tang Fei had just severed Jinta’s head in his hands; so Shan He wanted to take Tang Fei’s head in return.

That way, when he returned to the Starry Sky, he wouldn’t be a laughingstock.

He knew, if Tang Fei didn’t die by his hand, and his own squad wasn’t wiped out, what just happened would be the greatest humiliation of his career.

Helping the enemy decapitate a teammate—if word got out, how could he show his face?

His career would take a massive hit—he might well be finished.

The Jester, Serpent Woman, and the others saw Tang Fei fleeing and immediately chased after him with all their skill.

Tang Fei ran fast, as if the wind itself lent him speed.

He darted left and right, weaving and dodging, occasionally doubling back.

He relished this feeling—becoming one with the mountain and the lush forest.

He knew this place far too well. From the time he first formed memories—maybe even before—he’d been coming here with the old man and Fatty.

At first, the old man led them both up the mountain to hunt. Later, he’d watch as Tang Fei and Fatty hunted. Eventually, the old man let the two boys hunt alone…

Until Tang Fei was hunting by himself.

He knew where the fiercest beasts prowled, where to find double-headed sheep and two-eyed rabbits, which patch of wild mushrooms was thickest and hid boars, where there was stagnant water, where there were cliffs and crags…

He knew it all.

He was the true king of this mountain.

Of course, that was before the mutant tiger king and the ironclad panther showed up.

Or before the wolf packs arrived.

Tang Fei sped through Hundred Flowers Ridge, past Crocodile Pond, over White Bone Gorge, ever forward, ever onward…

At last he stopped, gasping for breath.

Clang!

Shan He crashed down like a shell, landing heavily in the mud. Staring at Tang Fei, he said, “Kid, weren’t you running? Keep running.”

“I’m done running,” Tang Fei panted, waving his hand. “I can’t go any farther.”

“Then this will be your grave,” Shan He replied.

His eyes glowed red, and his fists blazed with the same crimson light.

This was a sinister and evil technique known as ‘Thousand Corpses Transformation.’

It was used to absorb the ghostly phosphorescence from corpses—what the old folks called ‘will-o’-the-wisp.’

Human bones contain phosphorus. As corpses decay, phosphine gas forms. It ignites easily, often burning on its own.

When people walked past, the wisp would follow in their wake; if they turned to look, it could be terrifying. That’s why the superstitious called it ‘ghost fire.’

Shan He used his art to absorb this deathly energy, dissolving and devouring it until he could kill with toxic corpse energy.

Using this evil skill, he cultivated his own yin-yang force, breaking through realms and earning a fearsome reputation as a killer on the Starry Sky.

“Here?” Tang Fei looked around, smiling. “The scenery isn’t bad… Why don’t we give it a name?”

“Call your burial place whatever you like.”

“I think I’ll call it the Gate of Hell,” Tang Fei said.

“As you wish,” Shan He replied as he prepared to leap again.

He remembered a line from a film he’d seen on the New Star: villains die from talking too much.

He knew he was the villain, so he usually kept silent.

Especially during a mission—he rarely spoke at all.

He didn’t want to waste words with Tang Fei. He wanted to finish him off as quickly as possible.

After all, Tang Fei wasn’t his true target. The little bird hiding in the shadows was.

Wait—he couldn’t move.

He tried again—still nothing.

He looked at Tang Fei in astonishment. “What is this place?”

“I told you, didn’t I? This is the Gate of Hell. That’s what we locals call it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you noticed that your body is sinking rapidly?” Tang Fei said with a grin. “The more you struggle, the deeper you go… Even the Lion King or Tiger King couldn’t get out… So, how’s this fifth kill?”

“And you? Why aren’t you sinking?” Shan He stared at Tang Fei, who stood calmly, not a trace of sinking.

“I drifted in; you jumped,” Tang Fei said with a laugh. “I must say, Uncle, your leap was truly impressive. My compliments.”

Shan He knew—he’d fallen into another trap.

The fifth kill!