Chapter Forty-Seven: A Fatal Strike

With a savage rip, under Brooke's brutal hands, the last half of Mosika's trousers was torn away, exposing the white undergarments beneath.

Now, Mosika, battered to the point of utter helplessness by Arthur, trembled all over, tears of humiliation tracing down her cheeks.

“What a wonderful scent!” Brooke, holding the torn piece of Mosika’s trousers, brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply with a lecherous click of his tongue.

“Brooke, for fuck’s sake, hurry up! I can’t wait any longer!” Arthur glared at Brooke impatiently.

“Damn it, do I need you to—mmph!” Brooke, caught up in his excitement, barely had time to open his mouth before something suddenly shot into it. Pain exploded in his mouth; clutching his jaw, he opened his palm to find two yellowing front teeth and a stone.

“Who did that?” Brooke’s eyes blazed with fury as he glared at the guerrillas warming themselves around the fire.

“Damn it, you dare defy us—” Kyle’s eyes bulged as he looked around menacingly.

The guerrillas all nearly buried their heads in their laps, none daring to speak.

At that moment, Chen Cao slowly braced himself against the cave wall and stepped forward, his eyes calm. “You scum, don’t you feel ashamed bullying a girl?”

“It’s you, the cripple! You got some nerve!” Kyle recognized the useless man of the cave and relaxed.

Chen Cao brushed the dust from his hands and said slowly, “If you all have the guts, why shouldn’t I? And besides, I’m only fighting a pack of vermin.”

“You’re looking for death!” Brooke, fuming, stood up, but when he tried to speak again, he felt the wind whistling through the gap in his teeth. Kyle held him back, cautious after seeing the accuracy and speed with which the stone had been thrown. There were no small stones in the cave, and for the cripple to have fashioned one so quickly from the cave wall was beyond ordinary.

“Matsumoto!” Mosika scrambled to her feet, heedless of her exposed state, clutching her chest as she rushed to Chen Cao’s side.

“So, you’re a girl—ah, how did I never notice?” Chen Cao sighed in surprise.

Mosika flushed red and suddenly remembered something. “Are you alright, Matsumoto?” she asked, her words clearly referring to the imminent threat posed by the three foreign mercenaries.

Chen Cao took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, then smiled and patted her gently. “Can you help me with something?”

“Yes!” Wrapped in the jacket, Mosika felt a comforting warmth and nodded resolutely.

“Hold on to me, and follow my commands,” Chen Cao instructed, patting the bulging pocket of his trousers before placing his hand openly on her shoulder. Mosika blushed again; if it had been before, it wouldn’t have mattered, but now that he knew she was a girl, things felt very different.

“Still cozying up over there? I’ll kill you first, then have some real fun with this little bitch!” Arthur spat viciously, drawing a dagger—the one engraved with the word “Separation.”

“Wait,” Chen Cao said calmly, facing Arthur.

“What, scared now? If you crawl over and lick our toes, maybe I’ll leave you a whole corpse!” Arthur taunted, twirling the ancient dagger clumsily in his hand.

Chen Cao crooked his finger at them. “Come at me, both of you. I haven’t got time to play with you one at a time.”

“The cripple wants us both at once? You’ve gone mad!” Arthur burst out laughing.

“Arthur, be careful. There’s something off about him,” Kyle warned, pulling out his handgun and signaling to Brooke, “I’ll cover you. Attack from both sides.”

Among the three, Kyle was the most composed. Brooke nodded, readying himself. Instantly, the small cave filled with a deadly tension. The guerrillas, eager for the spectacle, withdrew to a safe distance, their faces gleeful. In their eyes, the gravely wounded Chen Cao was doomed, but at least he had done what none of them dared.

“Matsumoto!” Mosika, seeing Kyle draw his gun, looked at Chen Cao with worry.

“Don’t worry,” Chen Cao reassured her, patting her shoulder. “Now, when that big brute charges, listen for my signal and run as fast as you can straight ahead. The faster, the better. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” Mosika steadied her breathing.

Chen Cao crooked his finger at Arthur and Brooke, taunting, “Come on, you mongrels—let’s see what you’ve got!”

Infuriated, Brooke charged with his knife, howling, while Arthur, unwilling to fall behind, lunged with his dagger straight for Chen Cao’s chest.

One stab would be fatal—there was no doubt.

“Go!” Chen Cao commanded.

With both rushing toward them, Mosika drew a deep breath, grabbed Chen Cao, and ran straight at their attackers, eyes squeezed shut.

The guerrillas watching from afar held their breath. Charging forward instead of retreating? It was suicide.

But as Chen Cao, supported by Mosika, ran forward, he suddenly shouted, “Down!”

Without thinking, Mosika dropped to the ground. In the same instant, Chen Cao whipped a sharp stone from his pocket, and with a deft flick, slashed it in a deadly arc toward Arthur’s throat.

As if he had anticipated everything, Chen Cao shouted again, “Roll!”

Mosika, using all her strength, rolled with Chen Cao. In that swift motion, Chen Cao snatched the dagger from Arthur’s hand as the latter clutched his bleeding neck in disbelief. With a powerful swing, Chen Cao sent the blade flying straight at Kyle, who was raising his gun to shoot.

Thud! The dagger embedded itself in Kyle’s forehead. Eyes wide, gun still in hand, he staggered back and collapsed against the wall.

Brooke, realizing too late that he’d overshot, turned to see Chen Cao already standing, supported by Mosika. Chen Cao looked at him coldly. “Sorry. It’s over. Goodbye.”

Bang! Bang! Bang! Three bullets slammed into Brooke’s head.

Arthur clutched his throat, blood gushing. Kyle’s corpse sagged against the wall, a dagger jutting from his skull. In just a few seconds, it was all over.

Chen Cao lowered his gun and swept his gaze over the shell-shocked guerrillas. To Mosika, he said, “Tell them that if anyone wants to end up like those three, they can come forward right now.”

Mosika dusted herself off and translated his words with pride.

Before she finished, every guerrilla had lowered their heads, exchanging uneasy glances. A few came forward to carry away the bodies, moving slowly out of the cave. Several more brought food, carefully setting it before Chen Cao and Mosika, then withdrawing to a respectful distance.

Sausage, fermented beans, meat broth... After more than ten days without such food, Mosika had thought she’d never taste these things again. Overjoyed, she spun around Chen Cao a few times, already forgetting her narrow escape. Then, realizing she was clad only in her underwear, she let out a startled yelp and dashed into the stone chamber.

...

Dinner was lavish. Mosika lay beside him, a half-eaten sausage still at the corner of her mouth, savoring what seemed like the most delicious food in the world.

Today, she was truly happy.

Not in over ten days had they eaten so well. Chen Cao closed his eyes, exhausted; it was his first exertion since his recovery, and it had drained him. Now, with food in his belly and the guerrillas thoroughly cowed, he could finally sleep soundly.

Yet, as soon as sleep began to claim him, he felt a subtle movement at his side. In the past, when he was gravely injured, he’d never sensed anything; apparently, his body was returning to its former alertness. Chen Cao opened his eyes slightly—Mosika was gone. He looked carefully and saw her crouched in a corner of the cave, doing something.

He didn’t move. If she was just relieving herself, it would be awkward to interrupt, but this cave was hardly the place for that.

So Chen Cao watched.

The fire in the cave was always kept burning. Mosika’s shadow flickered on the wall as she crouched there. Through the shifting shadows, Chen Cao saw her tapping lightly on one arm with the other hand—sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, sometimes in rhythm, sometimes not.

Morse code! Chen Cao’s heart skipped, but he kept his expression unchanged and closed his eyes.

After a while, Mosika tiptoed back, saw Chen Cao sleeping soundly, and, thinking nothing of it, gently covered him with a blanket left by the guerrillas before lying down beside him once more.

“I never expected a master to be hiding by my side all along. It seems I’ve been far too careless,” Chen Cao said suddenly, softly.

Startled, Mosika jerked upright, only to find her wrist caught between Chen Cao’s fingers, her whole arm instantly numb.

Chen Cao sat up, smiling slightly. “No need to worry. We’ve shared life and death. As long as you don’t overstep, I won’t harm you. Of course, I can’t help wondering if all that ‘life and death’ was part of your plan.”

Mosika said nothing, her brows knitting, blue eyes darting anxiously as she regarded Chen Cao.

He continued, “Don’t worry, I’m not the meddling sort. Still, I am curious—why did you get close to me? What’s your purpose?”