Chapter 10
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Shatter - 4
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"Why... did you kill him?"
The end of her sentence tapered to a sharp point. The thin tremor in her voice and the inescapable seep of terror couldn't hide it. The emotions riding on those words—why did you kill him—jutted out like barbed thorns.
But the people were far too hardened to be wounded by the girl's words.
Joint ventures and wicked deeds alike. To those who peddled drugs in the back alleys of Bul Mountain, trapping folk in debt cycles... and to those who slew villains, claimed blood debts, and lorded over a thousand tenant farmers... the resentment from a village girl wasn't painful enough, nor memorable. So they all reached the same conclusion.
"What do you plan to do, kidnapping a child by force? Get lost and stay out of sight."
"Ha! You burned down the whole village, and now you mean to roast that wench alive too? So the Huangfu Clan is nothing but a den of murderers!"
They decided to ignore her.
"Clan Head. That girl's strange. White Shadow Chasing Wind reported she's hiding her skills..."
"Come on, Zhang Yi. How's some backwater bumpkin girl supposed to have trained external arts?"
"We can't rule out a special constitution. Better tie her up first and investigate slowly."
They resolved to give not a shred of attention to the girl's question—thoroughly, and they deemed it justified. The decision, made in passing, was ice-cold and irrevocable. To the girl, it seemed all the more bizarre. Everyone was talking about her, but no one was looking at her.
Simply put.
Because they could catch her if they needed to.
Whether it was the big-nosed bald man or the young fellow in yellow martial robes sprinting about, they could easily seize and restrain her... and that was an undeniable fact.
Her unanswered question scattered into the air. Like how a person's soul rises to the heavens and their body crumbles to the earth upon death, so too did the girl's query. Damp soil and rumbling thunder swallowed the fragments of her emotion.
A sharp thorn sprouted deep in her empty heart. Pain and anguish swelled its bulk.
"Why did you kill him?"
It felt like someone prodding her solar plexus with a blunt stick. Her head throbbed, breathing grew labored. Her eyes twitched left, then right. One side held ashes and flames; the other, blood and blades. No one told her what a Flash Guest was, or why Gangil had to die.
"If it's true she's got a special physique, we have to secure that girl no matter what. She's a definite prize."
"Send her to the Tang Clan, and they can verify it. If we hand over some decent elixirs to their physicians, we'll get plenty in return..."
Her breath came short. The world blurred before her eyes. In the black-flickering haze, one face loomed large. The three brothers in the corner, watching with sullen expressions. The Dragon Star Clan criminals, proudly flaunting their name as they roamed the village. The ones who'd slashed Gangil's back. In the warped world, his lips twisted in a grotesque smirk.
That crooked mouth was laughing. Laughing deep in his heart, without a doubt. She could feel it. To the girl, it was visible.
"Why did you kill him?!"
She lunged forward.
The unanticipated wields great power. Like a sparrow suddenly flapping in your grasp. Like cornered prey fighting back.
The eyes on the girl weren't wary vigilance but appraising glances at a rare treasure. No one had imagined she'd move. Foolhardy antics with Iron Blood Fist King and Flying Heaven Golden Blade right there? Laughable.
Through that gap, the girl seized the eldest of the Jiangming Three Evils. Her fist clamped his collar with brutal force.
"Eek! You crazy bitch!"
"Big brother!"
There was no hesitation. The youngest, Zhang Dongmal, already had his sword half-drawn. But absurdly, ching!—the Thousand Ghosts Scholar's steel whip blocked it.
"Don't kill her. Stand down."
Her value was too high.
Scant clues, woefully thin. The Palm Treasure Blade was certain, but two centuries had erased every trace. The girl could be the expedition's sole gain, one that might otherwise end in smoke. They had to take her alive, so the Thousand Ghosts Scholar squandered a precious moment. It was her chance. Huangfu Wind Division Leader didn't miss it.
The hastily whipped steel met Huangfu Clan fists head-on. White Shadow Chasing Wind launched toward the girl throttling Zhang Chunsam, only for Black Round Ghost to block him. Melee chaos. Blades and spears clashed wildly. Blood flowed.
Amid the ear-piercing screams, the girl's body burned like she had a fever. Qi thickened from nowhere, swelling within her. Unlucky Zhang Chunsam lacked the skill to counter it, flailing his arms pathetically instead.
He was a man teetering on the edge of first-rate. Without this job, he wouldn't even scrape the bottom of the Dragon Star Clan.
Choking on pain in his thick neck, Zhang Chunsam gurgled. He clutched desperately at the girl's hands, thrashing in vain. So to the girl vomiting up her chest-deep anguish—questions mingled with sobs—he... could give no answer. Despite his desperate struggle, Zhang Chunsam's end neared.
His neck snapped like a reed in autumn wind. Crunch. An alien sensation reached the girl's slender fingers. The kind swordsmen call the "taste of blood."
Yet still, the girl kept asking. The torment wouldn't fade until she heard an answer. Her wailing was like a wounded beast's agonized cry—she didn't notice Zhang Chunsam's lolling tongue spilling out, or his slack pupils casting dumb stares.
Strength surged into her pale, delicate hands. Into her fingers, her nails. The Qi in her broken nails sharpened keen, slicing effortlessly into human flesh. Nails dug into the carotid, tearing skin, unleashing horror.
Hot blood gushed like a river. The exquisite girl drenched in crimson looked not of this world.
The girl closed her eyes. She could feel it. The warmth enveloping her body. And how that warmth cooled to chill.
As everyone froze at the gruesome sight, the girl bolted. Into the mountains. Flash—lightning cracked once more.
"After her!"
A parched voice signaled pursuit. Footsteps chased the thick scent of blood through the dark. Rumble. Thunder boomed. Rain began to pour. The sky, choked with smoke all day, now drenched the night-shrouded peaks in muggy dampness. Torrents lashed her face.
The girl ran. Toward flowing water, higher up. The mountain paths she'd climbed dozens of times were familiar. She knew the quickest climbs, the leaf-hidden pits. Even in pitch black where no step ahead was visible, not to her. As pursuers stumbled into falls or tumbled down slopes, she ran.
Forward. Forward.
She didn't even know where. She just had to escape. So her instincts led her to the safest, warmest memory.
The great rock where she'd wanted to go with Gangil.
Overlooking golden rice fields. A deep spring right below. A place where gentle winds soothed her brow when pain and fatigue struck. But when she finally arrived, nothing remained.
Only night's darkness and distant red wildfires greeted her.
"Mountain Immortal, I..."
Her throat burned. She thought of Gangil. Noisy shouts echoed behind. Things like "Stop there" or "You won't get away." Chilling words. She gazed at the sky. Cold raindrops stung her eyes.
"Mountain Im..."
Her lips parted. As she tried to add mortal, the headless Mountain Immortal statue flashed in her mind. How did it come to this? We'd done no great wrong to anyone or anything. What rang out then wasn't the village chief's wizened wisdom, nor his comfort that a guardian spirit watched over the village.
The rain-lashed burning village stabbed her eyes red. Gangil's cold corpse clutched her tight. Shattered Mountain Immortal statue rolled in the fields. Dead rabbit's corpse gleamed. Its buckteeth mocked her.
Don't you get it? Really? Still don't know why Gangil died?
The girl turned. Standing at the earth's edge, she watched the martial artists charging her. Etched their images in her eyes: white robes, ornate garb, outstretched hands. All those greedily lunging to grab her.
The girl took one step back.
Her foot didn't touch ground. No rock met her delicate sole. Thud—her figure plummeted.
Without a final cry, the girl vanished like a phantom.
Too late, strong arms swept empty air. Only cold rain and damp air filled their grasp.
Someone shouted.
"Send men down?"
"No need. It's just a small pond below. If she hit land, every bone's shattered. Water, and her brain's shaken to mush. This is the end."
The mob lit torches, peering below. But what was there to see? In the downpour, a few flames flickered feebly atop the cliff.
She's dead, everyone there thought. Some things in the world you know without seeing.
In that mix of eerie tension and disappointment lingered a mutter, then gone.
"Damn it all."