Chapter 193
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 193
Chapter Title: Infernal Ghost (3)
- The Killing Arts are not orthodox martial techniques. Every technique detailed in the Killing Arts is meant for assassins, not warriors. They excel in ambushes and sneak attacks but falter in direct confrontations. Thus, you must never step forward into open battle.
'If you fight, you lose.'
Four Thousand Four quietly regulated his breathing.
With each breath, his internal energy stirred. As the breath coursed through his body, so too did his qi circulate in tandem.
This was not the regulation of qi for attack.
Four Thousand Four wasn't even thinking of the fight ahead. He knew Master Jigong was approaching, but he ignored it. The man coming toward him wasn't an enemy seeking battle—he was just someone drawing near.
Sssut!
His gaze naturally shifted to Master Jigong's hand.
Master Jigong's hand gleamed with golden light.
Golden light? It seemed as if radiance poured from his palm, but when he looked again, it was just an ordinary hand. No light at all. Yet whenever he tried to avert his eyes, that golden gleam flashed once more.
It had to be Shaolin's Golden Sun Hand.
The Golden Sun Hand was a devastating palm strike said to crumble rock like tofu. Even a mere graze would tear flesh from bone and shatter the skeleton beneath. They even said a black welt would bloom across the brushed skin.
So what if it struck true?
He needed to act now. Dodge before the Golden Sun Hand connected, or counterattack.
But something was off. No urge to move rose within him at all.
'If you fight, you lose!'
To move was to invite battle. Whether retreating or advancing, evading the Golden Sun Hand or striking back... any action meant defeat.
So just stand there and take the hit until death?
That was losing too. No one had ever survived a Golden Sun Hand—no doubt death was certain. And he'd never heard of anyone claiming victory after dying to an enemy's blow.
Damned if he did, damned if he didn't.
He stared at Master Jigong's hand. Watched the golden gleam flicker. And breathed calmly.
Shu-ut!
The Golden Sun Hand swept through empty air.
Master Jigong attacked at a pace even a child could easily evade.
Papat!
Their eyes met.
Even as he launched a killing strike, Master Jigong's gaze remained clear as a serene lake.
Four Thousand Four, under assault, kept his eyes equally clear. The Golden Sun Hand plummeted toward his head, yet he showed no agitation. No smile, no grimace.
Sssut!
The Golden Sun Hand halted above his head.
A single hair's breadth away... the hand rested atop his scalp.
"Do you yield?"
A gentle question.
"No, I do not."
Sssut!
Master Jigong pressed down.
His hand closed flush against Four Thousand Four's head, like a grandfather stroking his grandson's hair... save for the intensifying golden glow.
Their eyes met again.
They had no choice but to lock gazes. Master Jigong stared down as he pressed, and Four Thousand Four, head pinned, refused to look away. Their eyes hadn't merely met—they'd never parted.
"You have no intent to die."
"No one wishes to die."
"Yet if I add the slightest force to this hand, you perish."
"Then add that ounce of strength."
"You think I can't?"
"I believe you can."
This was no ordinary exchange.
They conversed while peering into each other's eyes, reading the ripples of hesitation, resolve, and life-or-death stakes within.
Four Thousand Four's gaze held no readiness for death. Nor the resignation of one accepting it. It was utterly mundane, like sipping tea upon waking in the morning.
Master Jigong's was the same.
The Golden Sun Hand clung to Master Jigong's palm. As he said, one more ounce of power would cave in Four Thousand Four's skull. And Master Jigong had sought him out precisely to deliver that.
"As I said before... be on your way."
"Very well."
He'd answered agreement to a call for his death.
Sssut!
Master Jigong unleashed his hand. The Golden Sun Hand blazed brighter, crushing down on Four Thousand Four's head. In that instant!
Paat! Peueok!
Lightning flashed between them. And both recoiled at blinding speed, as if shoved apart by the other's force.
"Hoo!"
Four Thousand Four shook his head side to side vigorously, exhaling deeply.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, staining his clothes as it streamed down.
Master Jigong frowned, eyeing Four Thousand Four.
"What was that technique just now?"
"Shadowless."
"A completely different Shadowless."
"I didn't deploy it."
"No, you did. A surprise activation."
"I see."
Four Thousand Four admitted it readily.
Master Jigong had truly meant to kill him. He'd held nothing back in the Golden Sun Hand.
As it bore down on his head,
beams of light fanned out from Four Thousand Four's body like an opened umbrella.
The steel needles he used for Shadowless Needles had transformed into rays and burst forth.
The Shadowless he'd just unleashed wasn't by his will. His body had moved on its own, needles firing without his awareness. He'd performed it himself, yet unconsciously.
No greater sneak attack existed.
"The Way of Assassins is fearsome indeed."
Master Jigong murmured.
"Will you tell me about the Way of Assassins?"
Four Thousand Four asked plainly, as if no battle raged.
They were still locked in fierce combat.
Master Jigong summoned the Golden Sun Hand once more. His hands seemed to tint gold, then revert to flesh tone; nothing there, then flashing gold again.
Four Thousand Four remained serene. Body still, eyes calm. He looked right at home holding a teacup.
"You don't know the Way of Assassins?"
"I know the Way of Killing and the Way of Warmth."
"Their fusion is the Way of Assassins."
"I've heard that. But to be clear, I've never combined the two."
"Yet you've just done so."
"Is this the fusion?"
"Fighting without fighting, battling without battling. Serene on the surface, yet killing intent seeps out; seek the intent, and only peace remains. Amitabha. Who would call you a murderer now? Who would predict you'd unleash assassin arts?"
Four Thousand Four clasped his hands in a fist-palm salute.
"I've learned of the Way of Assassins. Now I can guess what it is. One more thing: they say mastering it turns one into a madman—what does that mean?"
"Exactly as it sounds."
"I'm not mad."
"You will be soon."
"So you'll kill me before I lose my mind?"
"Yes."
"And if I don't go mad, it's needless murder on your part."
"No needless killing. Seems you've forgotten who you are. Four Thousand Four. Even death now leaves no regrets."
"I see. I am Four Thousand Four."
Four Thousand Four chuckled softly.
He'd killed many. If a righteous man judged him for it under the banner of justice, there was no defense. Who could argue against a pure-hearted soul slaying a mass murderer?
Four Thousand Four spoke.
"Perhaps... wait until I've gone mad before killing me?"
"Amitabha!"
Master Jigong pressed his palms together in prayer.
He understood Four Thousand Four's heart. He guessed what he awaited.
He wanted to know if he'd truly descend into madness. If he did, then death afterward would be justified.
"If this is Buddha's will. The Way of Assassins at its peak overwhelms even me. That's why I strike now. But if you ask me to wait, I shall. What choice do I have?"
Master Jigong asked Four Thousand Four.
Of course, he should beg to wait. It might free him from this bind.
Yet Four Thousand Four couldn't answer.
Master Jigong couldn't handle him if he went mad? Then he'd become Heavenly Commander's puppet, rampaging through the martial world. A fallen murderer.
What to do?
His answer... not easy, but clear.
"I'll give it my all. Attack me."
Four Thousand Four's reply was unexpected. Anyone else would plead to wait. Yet he invited the strike. He'd do his best, but death was possible.
He'd resolved to die.
But hearing this bold response, Master Jigong's frown deepened.
"Ah! Too late. I thought there might be a sliver of hope. Tsk! Amitabha, Namu Amitabha, Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva."
Righteousness had taken root in Four Thousand Four's heart.
This righteousness stemmed not from the Killing Arts. He'd strayed far from the manual passed by the Historian. It arose from the Way of Warmth imparted by the Blind Woman, where warmth now overpowered killing. No—warmth showed on the surface, while killing lurked dormant within.
Four Thousand Four had clearly invited attack now. He knew he couldn't match him but would try his best.
Yet peel back one layer, and a different intent lay beneath.
An intent born of killing... He didn't want to die here. Maximize ambush and sneak attack, and he might repel Master Jigong. Watch for an opening. Escape.
Four Thousand Four couldn't consciously summon that killing-born thought, but his nature was already steeped in it.
Disguised as warmth, sustained by killing.
A perfect gentleman on the outside, the murkiest killer within.
When these fused seamlessly... the world's most benevolent face would mask unprecedented murder. No—in that moment, it had just been born.
That was why Master Jigong sighed.
And Four Thousand Four sensed it too. He knew his state best.
But serenity felt good.
He breathed. Deeply. Recalling the breaths from that Thunder Prison long ago.
He'd thought it mere training, a new technique or breathing method. But it was the process of merging killing and warmth? So what. His mind had never been calmer.
Four Thousand Four was unaware of the killing intent.
No inkling it hid deep in his heart. No trace of such feeling. No thoughts of slaying Master Jigong or fleeing at the first gap. Only resolve to fight his utmost.
No. That was wrong too.
'If you fight, you lose!'
He wouldn't fight.
He waited. Breathing, until his body moved on its own.
Was this the Way of Assassins? Warmth harboring killing?
Ttaeeeeek!
Master Jigong attacked at blinding speed.
He meant to end it in this clash. No mercy now—he poured full power into the assault, plain to see.
Master Jigong unleashed everything.
Rururung! Urung...!
Thunder rumbled before he even closed in. The energy unleashed from his hands tore the air.
He watched the Golden Sun Hands.
One struck for the head, the other snatched at his collar.
Two utterly different strikes flowed as one seamless attack.
'Even Shaolin has a technique akin to the Wudang Dual Principles Heart Art. It's like two foes attacking. Exquisite. No place to dodge.'
Four Thousand Four watched Master Jigong's assault calmly.
Then it came—a fierce shudder in his mind.
Dding!
His head rang. Headache bloomed.
"Kuh!"
Four Thousand Four let out a short groan.