Iron Bull taucht wieder auf

Kapitel 162

The scene of Tano no Shinshige being disemboweled left a deep impression on me. After all, I was the one who personally rescued him from the cave of ten thousand snakes and guarded his body closely for twenty-four hours. In the end, I couldn't save his life, which is the biggest regret of my trip to Egypt.

"Thoughts? Hypnosis? Someone killed Tanino Shinji and took his heart while he was under hypnosis?" I asked tentatively.

Fujika shook his head again: "No, it was the reborn one who killed Tanino Shinji and seized his mind."

I wiped the blood from the blade and re-examined my question: "Who controls the reborn? If it's just a thought, then what is the ultimate purpose of this thought? Is it merely to kill for pleasure? Or is it manipulated by someone with ulterior motives, or is the Azure Dragon Society the mastermind behind it all?"

The power of the Green Dragon Society is so great that police systems in various countries are on high alert, fearing that one day these troubles will come their way.

"It's a kind of thought with extremely strong predatory capabilities. It can instantly invade a normal person's thought system, find the system's weaknesses, and then take away all the valuable information..." Teng Jia's words became increasingly strange, but I still understood the meaning of the so-called "reborn person," which is fundamentally different from the legends in the martial arts world.

The attack ceased, but I noticed the fog around the man in black was growing thicker.

A considerable amount of time has passed since they began their ambush in the Sutra Repository, yet no one in Fengge Temple has been awakened by the sounds of fighting. It is highly likely that they have been subdued by the black-clad men's escape techniques, and everyone is currently in a state of unconsciousness.

I took a deep breath and stared at the still chilling blade: "How much longer can you hold on? I'm going to break out, just like I assassinated Jiuchonglang. Can you live to see me come back?"

Behind the man in black, many more figures appeared, dressed in various colors, but all with slanted sword hilts protruding from their shoulders. Their expressions were solemn, and they were completely silent. Fujika couldn't recall the names or sects of the figures, but judging from the aura of the man in black, he was likely the leader of this large group of diverse ninjas.

"Perhaps... I'll do my best. You should know my situation." Fujika smiled bitterly and leaned closer to me.

The longest documented survival time for someone in a "final burst of energy" state is three hours; Fujika won't be that lucky. I'm just puzzled. Her mind should hold many secrets, but so far, I know nothing about it except the maze. And my knowledge of the maze is limited to the endless middle section; there are no hints on how to get in or out.

I released my arm from hers and gently flicked the blade: "Okay, wait for me to come back."

Tengjia managed to stand, biting her lip tightly. She had become so old and disheveled, and apart from the first time she was seen in the desert, she had nothing in common.

"Take care." She tried to smile and wish me well, but she couldn't. Her lips twitched; it was less a smile and more a stiff tremor of facial muscles. The contrast between the radiant, smiling young woman in her early twenties and the frail, withered old woman vividly illustrated the cruelty of time.

The long sword vibrated and hummed. I began to gather my inner strength and calm my mind, determined to kill the man in black with a single blow.

“If I die, the secrets of the *Azure Heaven and Yellow Springs Sutra* are all in that safe—regardless of whether my master’s last wish has been fulfilled, today is my death day. Wind, we are saying goodbye forever…” Tengjia’s tone was filled with despair and sorrow. Even a thousand-year-old soul wouldn’t want to die; it’s believed that any intelligent being in the world is filled with fear of death.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my left temple, as if something had stabbed me. I immediately reached up to rub it, but there was nothing there.

The fog thickened, and my mood felt so oppressive that I felt like I couldn't breathe. A profound silence descended. The dwarf and the female ninja were hidden in the fog, and only the faces of those five steps away became increasingly clear. I could clearly see the sparse, slightly grayish-white eyebrows of the man in black, and the indescribable coldness and arrogance in his eyes.

The four women beside him stood expressionless, but each of them had her right hand behind her back, where the most hidden assassins were probably lurking.

"Feng...did you hear the sound of the flute?" Tengjia swayed again and turned to look to the left.

That should be the direction of the meditation hall; there was nothing there except for the white mist.

I didn't hear anything; all my thoughts were focused on drawing my sword and killing the enemy.

“It’s Master’s flute. On the last night under the moon over the cold pool, he played this very tune…” Teng Jia’s tone became increasingly dazed. Suddenly, he turned around, staggered forward, and stepped across me.

I grabbed her wrist to stop her strange movements, but in that instant, I felt a sharp stinging pain in three places at the same time: my temples and forehead. It felt like three strong wasps had stung me at once. Not only was it painful, but it was also accompanied by a numbness. I couldn't help but cry out "Ah!" and subconsciously took a step back.

The fighting power that had been accumulated was completely dissipated, and the tip of the blade drooped helplessly toward the ground.

Fujika took three steps in quick succession, her movements stiff and mechanical like a puppet. If we couldn't stop her soon, the fog would separate us.

"Miss Fujika, stop!" I shouted, gathering my inner strength from my dantian, but it vanished as soon as it reached my Tanzhong acupoint. Everything had changed because of the man in black opposite me. I realized that if we couldn't counterattack in time and break free from this hypnotic attack, we would soon become dazed prisoners.

The sudden awakening of my thoughts was but a fleeting moment, and my actions followed closely behind. I suddenly exerted force with both arms and spun around to throw the long sword out.

Two figures, one in red and one in white, flashed past the man in black, their long, curved blades, each a foot long, flashing from behind their elbows, forming a cross with a sharp "click." I wasn't mistaken; there were clearly only five steps between them in my line of sight, yet the long blade took more than two seconds to reach its opponent, colliding with the short blade and sparking a brilliant burst of light.

The knife was back in my hand. The two women were each struck by a palm, their bodies flying backward into the white mist, with two screams echoing in the distance.

The fourth super weapon

— Chapter 2 — Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain (Part 2) —

“This time, it’s a real five-step distance. Who are you?” I pointed the tip of my knife at the man in black’s throat.

The glint of a blade flickered on his mask, but his arms remained crossed over his chest as he stared at me menacingly: "Chinese martial arts are long gone, not even half a vestige of the gun-and-cannon era. Our art of concealment, however, is ten times more lethal than the most advanced firearms. Therefore, you are destined to die; the only difference is the time. This is fate's arrangement..."

If the Shao brothers hadn't died and Zhang Baisen hadn't left, the men in black wouldn't have had the chance to boast about the Japanese's art of escape, since it was knowledge stolen from the ancient Chinese ancestors, and it wasn't time for them to reveal it and show off.

"I just want to know who you are? There are too many Japanese ninjas who hide their true faces and act furtively. We Chinese never kill nameless ghosts!"

Once again, I felt the murderous aura slowly descending, coming from the opposite side.

“My name? You really want to know?” He raised his hand and pulled down a red flag, holding it high above his head.

"Young man, do you know what flag this is?" His tone grew increasingly cold and contemptuous.

I saw the blazing flames embroidered on the red flag and vaguely guessed its origin—I heard rustling footsteps from the left, right, and behind me, probably from countless ninjas closing in.

"How is Fujika? Has he already fallen victim to their evil deeds?"

My sixth sense kicked in, and I darted to the left, my longsword slashing out in an arc.

Water droplets fell from mid-air. I sheathed my longsword and held it up to my eyes. Half a small red worm remained on the blade, resembling a two-month-old silkworm, but what oozed from it was a deep red sap.

The man in black raised an eyebrow: "It's useless. The fireworms have already invaded your body. Although there are only three, it's enough. Within twenty-four hours at the latest, you'll see a completely different version of yourself in the mirror. In the world, only I know how to get rid of the fireworms. Do you understand what to do next?"

I gasped, flicked my fingernail, and the insect flew straight away.

"I know, it was you." The other party's murderous aura suddenly intensified, and I immediately drew my sword across my chest, channeling my inner energy to defend myself.

"Of course it's me. Back in the Asian battlefield, almost everyone who heard my name would be terrified and unable to sleep at night. From the Yalu River to Hong Kong, from Malay Island to Outer Mongolia, during the era when I roamed the martial arts world, no fewer than a thousand people from the ten most famous martial arts sects in Asia came to challenge me. And what was the result? They all met the same end—death. Of course, there were also people who wanted to surrender, but they were not qualified."

I nodded: "There's a Chinese saying you've definitely heard: 'Good people don't live long, but evil people live for a thousand years.' This saying is most fitting for you, Feng, Lin, Huo, Shan."

The man in black looked up and "laughed"—only the gesture of laughing, but no sound came out. I called out his name, a man who had been on Japan's Class A war criminal list during World War II but had never received the punishment he deserved.

"Fūrin Kazan, Fūrin Kazan, you're absolutely right. No one has mentioned this name in a long time. Those who have seen me have either died at my hands or by the hand of God. So, it's foreseeable that fewer and fewer people will know 'Fūrin Kazan,' including those idiots in the Pentagon's intelligence department."

His tone was unusually cold, and I knew that I had no choice but to fight to the death.

“Or, you can come with me, like them, and them…” He raised his chin and nodded to the two remaining women beside him, as well as the many people standing half-hidden behind him.

I hope dawn will come soon. The ninja's escape techniques rely most of the time on the power of the night, like ghosts born at dusk and departing at dawn, unable to resist the sunlight.

“I know everything about you, including your current worries. Eliminating the threat of the Fang Demon is as easy as snapping my fingers. The difficulties you feel helpless about are all trivial matters to me, you know?” I couldn’t see his expression, but I could feel that his eyes were always radiating an evil light.

He mentioned the curse of the Fang Demon that Guan Baoling was under, and I began to hesitate slightly. He immediately noticed this subtle psychological state: "If you are interested, you can check the September 1941 issue of the Beiping Daily and you will understand whether what I said is true or not."

The infamous Fuurin Kazan is known throughout Japan's history of aggression during World War II. He is over a hundred years old, but his face is completely hidden behind a mask.

"Come with me, or die. You have the right to choose—"

My head is throbbing again, and it feels like two tiny electric drills are spinning wildly and probing my temples.

"Go with you, and become a low-level ninja like a walking corpse?" I laughed loudly, trying my best to suppress the pain.

He laughed loudly again, and I seized the fleeting opportunity, man and blade becoming one, lunging straight for his throat. Faced with Japanese ninjas who had become "outcasts," most people had no choice but to resort to the cruel "killing to stop killing." In this respect, the Americans were clearly smarter than people from other countries; they knew how to use the destructive atomic bomb to wipe out Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the cities that produced the most ninjas, ruthlessly ending Japan's wishful thinking of using ninja tactics to salvage its defeat.

I'm not even 50% sure I can make this move, because I'm facing the legendary "Ninja Soul" Furin Kazan, who killed over a thousand Asian masters. Will I follow in his footsteps?

His neck suddenly shifted half a foot, just avoiding the long knife. Before I could change my move a second time, his chin tucked in and caught the blade.

I tried twice to draw my longsword in mid-air, but failed. I had no choice but to let go, using a "scooping the moon from the sea" technique to twist his chin and the back of his head, then exerted a sudden, powerful force. This is a "one-hit kill" technique from American military and police combat, simple and practical—with a "snap," his chin snapped, and the longsword flew out. I felt a sharp pain in my left hand; two of my fingers had been broken by his sudden, powerful internal force. After landing, I realized that the intense pain in my temples had significantly reduced my martial arts internal energy; neither my swordsmanship nor my hand-to-hand combat could unleash its full power.

There was no distance between us; we stood face to face. He was short, only reaching my chest, but his imposing presence was unmatched. He was a master I had never encountered before.

"I told you it was useless, young man. If you train for another thirty years and reach the highest limit of Chinese martial arts, you might be able to fight me to a draw. Back then, Chinese martial arts masters were my defeated opponents, and they still are now. Time can only change our ages, but it can't change the outcome of the battle. What do you say?"

His voice remained extremely cold, as if defeating me was nothing to be happy about, but rather a matter of course.

My blood rushed to the top of my head because I could not tolerate a Japanese ninja who had insulted my predecessors sixty years ago, and who dared to openly insult me and my fellow martial arts practitioners sixty years later.

“You’re right. Even after all this time, the Americans still remember you, just like the Jewish assassins relentlessly pursued Nazi war criminals. You’ll soon follow in their footsteps, hanging or dying a gruesome death…”

The pain in my temples intensified with each stroke, and I could clearly feel three frantically wriggling worms thrashing about restlessly inside my head. Without any help, I had lost control of the situation; even with the longsword in my hand again, I had no chance of defeating them.

A heavy killing intent, like the impending storm, swept over him. The triangular flag behind him fluttered rapidly, further enhancing the surging aura emanating from his body.

"I--"

He uttered only one word, then suddenly looked down at his chest, where a dark blade tip was rapidly piercing through.

"Who? How come..." He reached out to grab the tip of the knife, but the knife was suddenly pulled back, and no blood spurted out, only leaving a strange crack on his black clothes.

Behind him should have been a strong and orderly guard, but when the blade appeared, hundreds of figures fell silently to the left and right, like a cornfield hit by a hurricane, with not a single stalk left standing. And it all happened at the same time, showing that the person who drew the blade was incredibly fast.

"Who? Who is it?" The two women beside him also screamed in fear.

This time, the fear of death descended upon them; no one could stand by and watch hundreds of their kind be killed without panic.

A figure emerged silently from the mist behind him, his mustache reaching down to his chest, and his hair hanging haphazardly to his heels.

"How could it be you? How could it be you?" Feng Lin Huo Shan's body stiffened, and his momentum diminished sharply.

"Why not me? Our contract ends today. You controlled me for three years, I'll return the favor, we're even. From today onwards, I am still Tanino Shinshu. As for who you are? What you want to do? It's none of my business, none of the 'Heavenly Ninja Alliance'—"

The man wiped his face, then looked regretfully at a long, half-black, half-white beard that had fallen into his palm and sighed, "I'm finally alive again, thank God. I haven't seen the moon on Earth for so long—" He raised his head, flicked his left index finger three times heavily on the black blade, making three resounding "clang clang clang" sounds, and then let out a shrill howl, like a lone wolf howling at the moon, tearing at my eardrums.

After the whistling sound, the swirling white mist and the dark clouds in the sky dissipated, revealing the cold, waning moon hanging in the west. Only then did I realize that dawn was approaching.

The fourth super weapon

— Chapter 3 — Tanino Shinshu (Part 1) —

"Have we always worked together very well?" Fenglin Huoshan laughed sinisterly.

"Yes, we cooperated very well, but that's all in the past. I have to thank you for imprisoning me in the meditation hall. For three years, I've been constantly thinking and finally figured out how to use this sword. Tonight, I can let you go. Next time we meet, we'll be mortal enemies. Please—" The man who called himself Tanino Shinshu suddenly swung his sword, his long hair and beard falling down, revealing two black moles the size of peanuts above his eyebrows.

I am very familiar with this facial feature. When I first met Tanino Shinji at the Scalpel Villa, it was these two extra black eyeball-like moles that left the deepest impression on me.

"Alright, but I still want to remind you that without me, no one can get the 'Wrath of the Sun God'. Only I can enter that place..." Fenglin Huoshan made a "laughing" gesture again.

Both of them were short, the typical build of Japanese men. However, I felt slightly better about Tanino because his appearance was almost identical to Tanino Shinji's; after all, I had risked my life with his brother in the Cave of Ten Thousand Snakes.

Gu Ye flicked the blade, and a cold, eerie light suddenly shot out from the dark, heavy longsword. It came from a ferocious, blue dragon engraved on the blade, just two inches from the hilt. This was another mark I recognized very well; it came from the hand of the renowned swordsmith, the Dragon Slayer, and was undoubtedly a treasured blade forged through countless trials.

"So, we can only hope for the best?" Fortunately, the metal mask concealed the embarrassment on Feng Lin Huoshan's face. As he hurriedly turned to the left, the red flag in his hand seemed to wave lightly and unintentionally. The two remaining women beside him suddenly dodged, their short swords slashing towards Gu Ye's lower body.

Gu Ye laughed loudly, the raging dragon on the blade flashed twice, and then he charged out.

With two clangs, two short swords fell to the ground, striking the blue brick floor. After Gu Ye returned to his original spot and sheathed his sword, the two women collapsed limply to the ground, their bodies almost cleaved in two. Behind me, countless heads rolled off in an instant.

Gu Ye's swordsmanship was too fast. I searched through all the martial arts techniques in my mind, but I couldn't think of any that could break his massacre.

Tengjia was still alive. He staggered up behind me and grabbed my left arm, barely breathing.

"It's all over." I felt no joy, only relief that Fujika's life had finally been extended and that he could still speak out about the secret buried in his heart.

With his hands clasped together at his chest and his freshly shaved head hanging down, Gu Ye silently recited the Soul-Sending Sutra several times, his expression extremely devout.

Tengjia rested her head on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "Shall we go back to the library?"

The horrific scene of carnage left her unable to bear looking back. We walked slowly through the crisscrossing courtyards, our hearts heavy, and no one wanted to speak.

That safe has always held a heavy allure for me. Ever since the Egyptian desert, I have been filled with curiosity about the "Blue Heaven and Yellow Springs Sutra." After the tiger stole the sutra and disappeared, I felt a deep sense of loss.