Volume Three: The Storm at Xuanwu Gate Chapter Ninety-One: Kill!

The blow startled the thieves inside badly. They had been drinking and bantering over dice and cups only moments before, when the door was suddenly kicked open and a bloodied, snarling human head was hurled at their feet. On closer inspection, it was Gao Meng, who had gone out not long ago.

Caught completely off guard and already half drunk, the gang reacted a beat too slowly.

Li Mingyu seized the chance, sprang forward, and with a single stroke cut down the head of the thief nearest to him.

Without pause, he stepped in with the blade and swept it upward in a reverse slash, carving open another man from abdomen to belly and gutting him on the spot.

Then, with a turn of the wrist, he drove the blade out from beneath his ribs and skewered a third thief who had just opened his mouth to shout.

Clean, crisp, and swift as flowing water, three strokes, three lives.

Only then did the first severed head hit the floor. Its mouth was still working up and down as though it had only just understood pain, while a fountain of blood burst high from the neck stump.

“Aaah!”

“Aaah!”

The deaths of the other two men followed a moment later in shrill, belated screams.

Hearing the final cries of their comrades, the rest of the thieves finally woke from their stupor. Shock and fury swept through them as they bellowed, “Who the hell are you? Get your weapons!” Some rose to their feet, others scrabbled for arms, and the room dissolved into chaos.

Li Mingyu gave no answer. He kicked over the table in front of him and rammed straight at one thief who was reaching for a weapon.

The man saw danger at once and cried, “Mother of—” before darting desperately aside. He had barely avoided the table when Mingyu was already upon him like a shooting star. Shouldering past the man’s guard, he slashed.

The blade went from the thief’s left shoulder all the way down to his lower abdomen. Blood sprayed everywhere. The man did not even have time to scream before his insides spilled in a heap to the floor.

“You’re asking for death!” roared a broad-faced brute. In the panic, he could not find a proper weapon, so he snatched up a stool and hurled it at Li Mingyu. He followed right after, fists like earthen bowls, smashing in.

Li Mingyu raised his left arm to block, knocking the stool away, then thrust his blade forward with his right. One stab entered the man’s left side beneath the ribs. The brute gave a terrible cry, spat a mouthful of black blood, and collapsed dead.

A whistling sound split the air behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, Mingyu caught sight of a tall, thin man charging in with a single-edged saber aimed at his neck.

Mingyu dipped low and forward to evade the strike, then slammed back into him, staggering him off balance. At the same time, he drew the blade back and struck from beneath his own ribs toward the rear.

The tall man had been unsteady from the collision; the thrust found its mark. The blade entered his lower belly and burst out through his back. He shrieked and let go of his saber.

Even so, he was fierce to the end. With a fatal wound, he still clamped both hands around Li Mingyu’s blade, his face twisted with savagery, intent on dragging Mingyu down with him before dying.

Very well, then. Take it!

Li Mingyu pulled once, but the weapon would not come free. So he simply drove his wrist forward and shoved the blade all the way through the man’s body. The tall, thin fellow stumbled backward several steps, eyes bulging wide, and died with his gaze still unclosed.

Though the blade was no longer in his hand, Mingyu still had another at his back, and by then more than half the thieves in the room had already fallen to him.

The remaining men had recovered their senses by now. Gripping whatever weapons they had managed to seize, they lunged at him together.

Faced with a pair of sabers and a sword, Li Mingyu showed no fear. With a cold laugh, he said, “You overestimate yourselves!” He reached back, drew the blade from behind him, and swept it toward the saber wielder on his left.

Clang!

The two sabers met, throwing off a shower of sparks.

Mingyu was monstrously strong. With all his power behind that single slash, the gaunt-faced saber man felt his arms go numb and his tiger’s mouth split with pain. His sides seemed about to burst from the impact. Alarmed, he let go of his weapon and stumbled back, crying, “This brat has ridiculous strength!”

But Mingyu’s force had not yet dissipated. How could he allow the man to retreat? Pressing the advantage, he continued the same motion without changing direction.

With a wet slash, he cut the gaunt-faced man cleanly in half at the waist.

By then the weapons of the other two had already come within a foot of him. Mingyu stepped back and turned, avoiding the sword thrust straight at his face, then kicked upward and shouted, “Let go!”

His toe struck the swordsman’s wrist squarely.

The man cried out as pain shot through his wrist, and he could no longer hold the long sword. He was just about to retreat and snatch his weapon back when Li Mingyu, spotting the opening, flashed his blade. A cold gleam appeared, and with one strike he slit the man’s throat.

The swordsman made a futile attempt to cover the wound with his hands, but there was no stopping the blood. It seeped continuously through his fingers, dripping down without end.

Li Mingyu kicked the corpse aside, then turned and stood with his blade reversed in his hand, glaring at the last of the Evil Tiger Gang’s thugs.

Seeing how ferocious this young man truly was, how every strike was a killing blow, the final survivor watched eight or nine of his fellows die in the blink of an eye until only he remained. He had no courage left to gamble his life. Hiding his weakness behind a fierce expression, he shouted a few times to embolden himself, then spun around and ran for his life.

“You want to run? Not a chance!” Li Mingyu saw his cowardice and had no intention of letting him go. None of these bastards were worth keeping alive; killing them would be an act of public service. He flicked his arm, and the blade flew from his hand like a streak of light, fast as lightning and a falling star.

With a soft thud, it pierced the man’s back and burst out through his chest, pinning him to the ground.

After dealing with those few thieves, Mingyu was drenched in sweat. Though it had looked as easy as chopping vegetables, each stroke had been a killing blow and had drained his strength heavily; he had already used up all he knew.

Those thugs were no simple rabble. Every one of them knew martial arts. If they had not been drunk and entirely unguarded, if Mingyu had not seized the moment and caught them off balance, then even if he had won in the end, he would hardly have escaped unscathed.

After catching his breath for a moment, Mingyu saw that the blade in his hand had already been nicked and notched by the fighting. He thought grimly that this damned piece of junk was far too fragile to use. After only a few strikes, the edge had already rolled. When he had time, he would have to get himself a proper sword.

He casually picked up another blade from the floor and strode toward the place Gao Meng had pointed out earlier.

That area was lit, so it was easy to spot. After leaving the courtyard and walking a short distance, he saw two or three rooms ahead with lamps burning inside. From one of them came the sound of a woman sobbing.

Following the cries, he reached the door of that room.

Inside, he heard a woman’s voice tearing itself apart in desperate pleas. “Please! Let me go! Let me leave! I have a husband!”

A slick, sleazy male voice answered, “Yes, I know you’re married. But whose fault is it that you ended up with a gambling husband? Heh. Your man owes us gambling debts. He’s already pawned you off to us as interest.”

“Please let me go. I’ll go back and sell everything I own to repay you,” the woman sobbed, begging bitterly.

The man chuckled with lewd amusement. “Repay me? You can repay me right now.”

At once came the sound of clothing being torn.

The woman must have been struggling with all her strength. “No, no, no! Please! Let me go!”

“Slap! You ungrateful whore! I’m being nice and you still won’t appreciate it!”

The man’s voice turned furious, clearly enraged by her resistance.

Hearing this, how could Li Mingyu not understand? They were forcing a decent woman into prostitution, using gambling debts as an excuse to make her husband hand over his wife in payment.

He cursed under his breath at the scum of the earth and could no longer suppress his rage. He kicked through the door and leaped inside.

Once in the room, he saw it clearly: on the bed, a bare-chested man with his back to him was pinning a woman who struggled frantically beneath him, about to violate her by force like an animal.

Li Mingyu hated men who humiliated women more than anything in his life. Seeing such a scene, how could he possibly hold back? He charged forward in long strides and kicked the man sprawling to the floor.

The man had been caught in the act and was just about to shout curses when a shadow flashed before his eyes. The next instant, pain exploded through his body, and he was sent rolling away by a single kick.

Li Mingyu rushed up, pinned him beneath him, and, without even using his blade, began hammering his fists into the man’s face. The questions on the man’s lips were reduced to a scream.

Thud. Thud. Thud, thud, thud.

Fist after fist landed with brutal force. Fortunately, Mingyu had not been so overcome by fury as to lose all reason; he deliberately avoided the vital points. Otherwise, with his strength, he would already have smashed the brute to broken bones and splintered sinew, with brains bursting from his skull.

Mingyu was skilled in combat. Every punch landed where it would cause the most pain without being immediately fatal. The man curled up like a giant shrimp, every inch of him convulsing with pain. He wanted to scream but could not even manage that. Each time he tried to open his mouth, Li Mingyu seemed to know in advance and smashed a fist into it, cutting off the cry in mid-birth.

After seven or eight blows, even though Mingyu had held back, his rage had made perfect restraint impossible. The man’s eyes were already rolling white, and it looked as though he was about to die.

Li Mingyu seized him by the throat and thundered, “You’re Duan Hu, aren’t you? Speak! Who sent you to kidnap me?”