Chapter 226
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 226
Chapter Title: Dark Struggle (1)
Ding-a-ling! Ding-a-ling! Ding-a-ling!
He shook the cord hanging in the guest room.
A waiter should have come running at once. The bell had rung more than ten times, and there wasn't even a hint of movement. Something was off.
Vanguard closed his eyes and sharpened his hearing to its utmost.
An ambush?
It didn't feel like one. There was no sense of anyone approaching.
If this was an ambush, he'd just have to take it. Anyone who could sneak up on him without triggering his Heavenly Vision and Earthly Listening Art would be at least a rank above him.
Vanguard calmed his mind.
He'd walked right into the tiger's den anyway.
His destination was Guangzhou, and he'd openly declared he was going to meet Elder Suwol. A response like this was only natural.
Vanguard reached out and grasped the cord again.
He rang the bell once more to gauge the reaction from downstairs. He strained his ears to figure out why the waiter wasn't coming up. At that moment—
Creak!
The door swung open, and someone stepped inside.
Vanguard wasn't startled. He'd heard the person from the next room shove open their door and head his way.
He turned to look at her.
Jaja wasn't wearing her bamboo hat. Her twin swords were strapped on as usual, but her face was fully exposed.
"Pulling on that all you want won't do any good. There's no one here."
"What do you mean?"
She held out a crumpled piece of paper.
- Everyone has left.
The rooms are completely empty.
It was neat handwriting with elegant flourishes at the ends of the strokes.
The note was from Hanbi.
"Everyone's gone, and the inn's deserted? So it's just us here?"
Vanguard handed the paper back as he spoke.
"The innkeeper, the waiters, all the guests—everyone. They're all gone."
"Quite the lavish reception. So, an attack's coming?"
"Should be any moment now. Come on, let's go down. We can fight after breakfast. You can't fight on an empty stomach."
"It's been a while. I'll get to see your skills in action."
"Pfft! Dreaming of a feast in a situation like this? Be grateful if there's even cold rice left."
Jaja turned away with a smirk.
'Huh? She smiled?'
Vanguard blinked.
Just now—definitely, unmistakably—Jaja had smiled.
The woman who'd always kept a frosty expression was finally cracking a grin.
Had her heart changed?
Had she finally decided to accept Hanbi?
Either way, smiling meant she had some peace of mind. Nothing wrong with that.
"No telling how today'll go, but I'm feeling good."
Vanguard stretched his arms and stood up.
The inn... had no food!
Not a scrap. No vegetables, no fresh meat. Even the liquor jars were bone-dry. The stench of booze wafting from the sewer suggested they'd dumped it all.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Jaja glanced at Vanguard.
"Looks like they plan to starve us to death."
"That's what I thought too. But this is the heart of Guangzhou. Starving us in isolation here? Ridiculous."
Jaja shook her head.
The isolation starvation ploy was one assassins used often. And as someone from the Heavenly Annihilation Division, she knew it better than most.
Simply put, it meant letting your target waste away from hunger.
It worked best in remote mountains with sparse settlements or vast deserts—places where you could preemptively clear out wild game and evacuate a few villages for maximum effect.
Of course, people didn't actually starve to death.
Humans were tenacious beasts. When push came to shove, they'd even drink their own piss.
Roots, tree bark, streams... in mountains teeming with edibles, starvation was unlikely. Deserts or open seas were another story, but you couldn't just snuff out a life that easily with isolation starvation.
Still, it had its effects.
Your target grew utterly exhausted. One day, two... the longer it dragged on, the wearier they became.
Even a week or so was enough.
Starve them that long, and they'd be as drained as if they'd run a thousand miles.
Strike then, and you could take down a formidable foe without breaking a sweat.
Was that the plan here? Right in the middle of the city? Where food was underfoot at every step?
"We'll find out if we go take a look."
Vanguard pulled down his bamboo hat.
Guangzhou was the premier capital of Guangdong Province.
Its population was estimated at over a million.
In a city that size, food was everywhere. Street stalls hawked it, restaurants served it—you tripped over meals walking around.
And Guangzhou was the heart of Cantonese cuisine to boot.
"How much?"
Vanguard pointed at the hand-pulled dumplings he'd just spotted.
The vendor had steamed them fresh over charcoal, steam rising invitingly.
The man making them glanced at Vanguard, then turned back to his work.
"Not for sale."
Gruff tone.
"Not for sale?"
Jaja shot back sharply.
"It's for my family. Too hot inside, so we're out here... Wait, why am I even explaining? Hey! I said it's not for sale—why're you hassling me?!"
"Fine. Got it."
Vanguard tugged Jaja along and turned away.
"Selling food?"
Vanguard asked another vendor.
The street seller had two massive vats going: plain wonton soup and spicy mala tang, both brimming full.
"Can't eat this stuff."
Without a second thought, the vendor dumped both vats onto the street.
"Whoa!"
Vanguard and Jaja leaped back from the scalding broth.
The vendor casually rinsed the vats as if nothing happened.
"...If you were selling it, how much for the lot?"
Vanguard asked with a grin.
"Told you, it's not edible."
"Just curious. How many servings is that?"
"Ptooey!"
The vendor spat a glob of phlegm instead of answering.
Shing!
Jaja gripped her sword.
Killing intent flared from beneath her hat. Her blade looked ready to cleave the man in one stroke.
The vendor sensed it—his shoulders trembled, legs wobbling. He knew death loomed.
Jaja wouldn't snap and actually kill him. She was deliberately radiating menace to pry out his true feelings.
As if Vanguard wouldn't notice.
"Dumping food like that must hurt your wallet. You sure?"
"Urgh..."
The vendor groaned low but showed no regret. If anything, he squeezed his eyes shut like he was daring them to kill him.
The sword threat fell flat.
What was it? What made these ordinary folk stand firm even before death? They had no ties to Elder Suwol—or so it seemed.
"Elder Suwol's influence runs deep."
Vanguard muttered.
Food overflowed the streets. Yet not a soul offered them so much as a sip of broth.
Inns and eateries shut them out cold.
Try to enter, and the owner and staff rushed out, hands clasped in polite refusal.
Some even brandished blades.
"Please understand our position and leave."
That one held a knife to his own throat.
Force your way in, and you'd leave a corpse behind.
Time to decide.
These people—knife to their own necks—were threatening death en masse.
Trample bodies for a meal, or turn back?
A lowly bowl of noodles hung in the balance of lives.
"Is this what Elder Suwol's like?"
Jaja asked.
Both were assassins from the Heavenly Annihilation Division. Both had led squads as squad leaders.
But they'd only learned Elder Suwol was connected after Four Thousand Four spilled it. Before that, they'd pegged him as just a wealthy Guangdong merchant with no ties.
Elder Suwol played dirty.
What if Vanguard and Jaja went full assassin? Would he shrug off the body count while they ate and drank their fill?
They could cheat a bit.
Main streets had too many eyes, so retreat for now. But alleys? Different story. Refuse there, and the sword would speak volumes.
Stealing was an option too.
Heavenly Annihilation assassins would pick that last one. Exposure was the enemy.
Sneak in shadows, snag some grub.
Ridiculous to agonize over food... but humans die without it. Eat first, deal later.
Except... even that wasn't viable.
"Left, ten zhang."
Jaja whispered.
Vanguard sidelong-glanced left.
His hat shrouded his face, hiding expressions and glances. Without turning his head obviously, no one could tell where he looked.
Still, he peeked.
About ten zhang left sat a young fortune-teller on a mat, tiny desk before him piled with divination books.
Tools of the trade, of course.
Vanguard read the martial aura off him.
Strong. In a fight, he'd need to go all out with his sword. Underestimate, and it'd end badly.
"Bell tower on the right too."
Jaja flicked her eyes that way.
An archer lounged there, legs dangling over the edge in wide-open view.
Blatant as could be.
"Deadeye, I'd bet."
"No kidding."
"Heavenly Annihilation Division's elites aren't just anyone."
"No kidding."
The pair strolled on.
Eyes tracked them everywhere.
Not picking fights, but they wouldn't back down if one started.
Such watchers ringed them.
Scrutinizing who offered food, how they responded.
Elder Suwol had the whole city of Guangzhou locked down tight. Food aplenty, but without his say-so, not a crumb passed their lips.
"Should've stayed holed up at the inn. Slept the day away."
"We slept plenty."
"Now what? Not even a bed tonight, probably."
"Head back?"
"Think they'll let us in? Yesterday was pre-starvation lockdown. Now..."
Vanguard trailed off.
"Pfft! Since when do we worry about meals or beds?"
"True."
"Exactly."
Jaja finished speaking and flung her hand skyward.
Whoosh!
Her flying dagger nailed a passing pigeon.
Thud-thud-thud!
The bird plummeted. In that instant—
Scree! Scree! Thunk!
A sharp whistle cut the air first. Then came the sense of an arrow loosed from somewhere.
It speared the falling pigeon, dragging it to a distant dead tree with a solid thunk.
All in a blink.