Future Masters in Modern Times

Chapter 19: Killing One Is Like Killing Ten Thousand

The two bodyguards stared blankly at Zhao Wuji, frozen in place. Seeing this, Zhao Wuji straightened up, shook the blood off his hands, and explained, “This was a remote-controlled bomb, not some kind of suicide bomb. You’ve been deceived.” He had assumed the bodyguards were confused by his actions just now. “So that’s how it is,” Catherine murmured to herself, but then heard the bodyguards gasp in shock: “Miss, he… he’s Zhao Wuji.” Catherine gently covered her gaping mouth with her delicate, pale hand, marveling at the wonders of fate. It was because of Zhao Wuji that their group had found themselves in danger in the prison, yet it was also because of him that they were saved. The panic had vanished from her eyes; instead, they now held a tender gaze as she poured her entire gaze, like flowing water, onto Zhao Wuji—the man who had just saved her. “Um… thank you, Zhao.” Catherine opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, and after a long moment, managed to utter only this single sentence of gratitude. She silently scolded herself: usually so poised and confident in her dealings with others, what was wrong with her today? Whenever she tried to speak, it felt as if something were blocking her throat, leaving her unable to form the words. “You’re welcome, Miss,” Zhao Wuji said calmly to Catherine, though in an instant he realized the purpose of the people before him—it seemed… they had come for him? Zhao Wuji felt it was necessary to adjust his plan going forward. “My brother and the others…” Catherine thought again of her brother’s predicament; her delicate brows furrowed, and her face once more filled with worry. Gunshots rang out intermittently in the distance; it seemed the prison guards were using gunfire to intimidate the prisoners. However, faced with the gunfire, the prisoners grew even more frenzied, and for these already vicious and ruthless inmates, their frenzy made them completely irrational. At this point, no amount of persuasion would work; only force—and strong, decisive force—could bring the situation under control. For Adelaide and the others trapped in the midst of this frenzied crowd, the situation was extremely dangerous. “Miss,” Zhao Wuji, clearly assessing the situation before him, said to Catherine, whose face was etched with worry. Hearing Zhao Wuji’s voice, Catherine forced a smile and said, “Don’t call me ‘Miss’—just call me Catherine.” “All right,” Zhao Wuji nodded and said, “Miss Catherine, let me go rescue your brother.” No sooner had he finished speaking than Catherine shook her head vigorously: “You can’t. Going in there now would be suicide, and I can’t just stand by and watch you die.” She looked straight into Zhao Wuji’s eyes. “Besides, you’ve already saved my life.” After saying this, Catherine felt her face grow a little warm. Hearing Catherine’s words, Zhao Wuji actually felt a bit more fond of this young lady standing before him. To be able to劝 him not to take risks under such circumstances—no matter what, she was at least kind-hearted. Without waiting for Catherine’s consent, Zhao Wuji hurried off, heading straight for Adelaide, who was trapped in the dense, dark crowd. “No, don’t go over there…” Catherine tried to stop Zhao Wuji, but it was already too late. She could only watch helplessly as he walked away; the dense, dark crowd in the distance made her heart sink. At the front of the crowd, a large number of heavily armed soldiers had already “in unison” cocked their rifles, waiting only for the order to launch a merciless attack. If even one of these prisoners managed to escape, it would be a disaster for society as a whole. Weighing the options, eliminating them inside the prison might be the best course of action. Captain Jero of Delta Force stared coldly at the surging prisoners, as if they were already dead. Jero picked up the megaphone and addressed all the prisoners: “This is your last chance. If you do not retreat immediately, we reserve the right to shoot you on the spot.” His words clearly had no effect. Watching the prisoners continue to advance, he decisively activated the radio on his shoulder and ordered in a voice devoid of any emotion: “Open fire!” As soon as the order was given, the well-trained team members sprang into action. Armed with powerful, lethal weapons, they pulled the triggers without hesitation upon hearing the command. A torrent of fire poured from the muzzles, and instantly, a large group at the very front of the crowd fell. The prisoners in the front fell, but there were still more behind them. The situation actually became even more chaotic after the shots were fired; the prisoners, like mad bulls and seemingly on stimulants, roared as they charged forward. A figure approached from the distance at an astonishing speed—it was Zhao Wuji. Catherine watched Zhao Wuji’s figure with concern, her hands clenched so tightly they were slightly damp. “He’s still okay,” Catherine prayed silently. “He’ll definitely be okay.” As Zhao Wuji ran, his gaze grew increasingly icy—a look he always wore when he was about to unleash a killing spree. Those frenzied prisoners would soon realize that a gun isn’t always the most terrifying thing. His muscles tensed further, and Zhao Wuji relished this sensation of raw power. In his previous life, to efficiently take enemy lives on the battlefield, he had created a set of hand-to-hand combat techniques. The sole purpose of this style was to kill—yes, to kill. Every move, every strike, was designed to take a life in the shortest possible time. Although, with his current strength, he couldn’t yet fully unleash the power of this combat system, even if he could only harness one-tenth of its might, it would still be more than this rabble before him could withstand. They were formidable, but no matter how formidable, could they possibly be more formidable than the Zerg? This was a one-sided slaughter. It’s just that this group of crazed prisoners hadn’t realized it yet. Finally, Zhao Wuji was just a few steps away from the crowd. He felt as if the blood in his veins were burning; it was as if he had returned to the war-torn world of his past life, where mountains of insect corpses lay as his spoils of war. As he looked at the prisoners before him, Zhao Wuji’s muscles tensed, and he suddenly unleashed a devastating burst of power. Instantly, in his eyes, each prisoner was reduced to nothing more than a series of fatal vulnerabilities. These vulnerabilities would bear the brunt of his devastating attack. “Boom!” His fist, moving at the very limit of speed and carrying terrifying force, slammed into the nape of the lead prisoner’s neck. The prisoner’s back caved in, and a crisp, cruel sound rang out. The prisoner lost consciousness in that instant; his eyes bulged from their sockets, and though his mouth—which had been screaming just moments before—remained agape, no sound emerged. Even after dying in that instant, the prisoner was still sent flying several meters by the residual force of Zhao Wuji’s punch, violently clearing a large space in the densely packed crowd. “Thud.” The body slammed into the ground with a dull thud. In that instant, at least ten prisoners cast puzzled glances at the corpse on the ground, looking somewhat at a loss. “Heh heh! That’s not nearly enough,” Zhao Wuji barked, taking a long stride forward. He plunged into the crowd where he had just torn open a gaping hole. Without a moment’s hesitation, he formed his hands into blades and instantly plunged them into the bodies of the prisoners on either side of him. Blood spurted out immediately. The two prisoners stared in shock at the hand embedded in their chests, their eyes wide, uttering indistinct whimpers from their throats. Zhao Wuji raised his hands high; the two dead prisoners felt as light as air in his grasp. He lifted them off the ground, and when he was high enough, he gave his arms a sudden, violent shake. The two corpses flew a great distance from his hands, their blood splattering to trace the path of their flight. Zhao Wuji absorbed three living souls—invisible to ordinary people—into his body. He raised his cold, bloodthirsty face, the corners of his mouth curving upward. Though he was smiling, it was like that of a demon from hell, causing people to let out shrill screams of terror from the depths of their souls. Is that enough? Not nearly enough! The slaughter has only just begun. A true man must kill—and kill without mercy. An immortal legacy that will endure for ages lies in the act of killing. With every punch he threw, a life was extinguished, and Zhao Wuji’s smile grew wider as he killed with growing fervor. The hot, steaming blood splattering across his face was the thrill of bloodlust! One kill every three steps—his heart may pause, but his hand never stops. Blood flows like waves for ten thousand li; corpses pile up against mountains a thousand xun high. Even in his dreams he kills, his smiling face reflecting the spring’s radiance. Kill! Zhao Wuji no longer needed to think about how to kill; with every strike, he took a life. Killing—it all comes down to instinct! To kill one is a crime; to slaughter ten thousand is the mark of a true hero. To slaughter nine million is to be the mightiest of the mighty. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill. How many people were horrified by this massacre? It was truly a river of blood. The deranged criminals, who had just moments ago been caught up in the frenzy of their impending escape from prison, found themselves plunged into a boundless hell in the blink of an eye—a hell composed of rivers of blood and mountains of corpses. All the prisoners retreated in panic; those who had just moments ago looked so arrogant were now jolted back to reality! This human tragedy was enough to scare the very souls out of their bodies. The dense crowd that had been there just a moment ago suddenly split open as if a huge gaping hole had appeared, leaving a void where Zhao Wuji had been standing. “No more running! Someone shouted in a tearful voice. This instantly spread like a spark igniting a prairie fire, searing through the entire dense crowd. Accents from all over the world echoed across this hell on earth, their voices filled with trembling and the anxiety born of extreme fear. They were afraid—truly afraid. Right now, saving their lives took precedence over freedom! A person like this simply shouldn’t exist on Earth—he’s a devil! He’s a monster! When the Delta Force operatives realized something was amiss with the prisoners before them, they obeyed Jero’s order, temporarily lowering their guns as they peered curiously into the crowd. Then, through the gaps in the crowd, a flash of dark red blinded their eyes. They froze, transfixed; the psychological shock would haunt them for the rest of their lives. The corpses strewn across the ground continued to torment their nerves. Amid the crowd stood a figure, his entire body drenched in blood. And was this tragedy before them all his doing? “He’s not even human!” The members of Delta Force were all elite soldiers; they were entitled to look down on anyone, but faced with a man like this, they were truly, utterly convinced. If possible, they’d never want to be his enemy for the rest of their lives! That was the shared sentiment in all their hearts at that moment. Adelaide, supported by her butler Amanda, stared straight at that figure—Zhao Wuji—her heart surging with fervor. She hadn’t misjudged him at all; what a man he was! Truly invincible! Although she had faced such danger here in Lobestan, she had no regrets; what she had witnessed today was more thrilling than the entire twenty years of her life combined. In fact, there was even a hint of fervent admiration in Adelaide’s eyes—though it was barely perceptible, it was undeniably there. Zhao Wuji’s eyes swept the room with Zhang Kuang intensity. Faced with his murderous glare, all the prisoners bowed their heads, averting their eyes from him. “Are you afraid? I haven’t killed enough yet.” That voice, laced with a chilling aura of murder, sent a shiver down everyone’s spine. Whether one called Zhao Wuji’s actions indiscriminate slaughter of the innocent or sheer cruelty, in his mind, these people all deserved to die—and he had just seized this opportunity to accumulate a great many living souls. The crowd around Zhao Wuji parted once more, leaving him standing alone amidst the corpses. Zhao Wuji decided to stop, because the living souls within him were just five percent short of being fully charged—he was about to undergo his second enhancement. If he continued killing, he feared his abnormal condition would be discovered. In the distance, Catherine’s heart kept pounding. Just moments ago, she had been genuinely worried about Zhao Wuji, but when she saw him slaughtering prisoners with such reckless abandon, she felt a faint sense of excitement—as if that was exactly how that man was meant to be. Zhao Wuji’s bold act of killing deeply shook her soul, and her gaze, against her will, became fixed on his figure, unable to look away. She was deeply captivated by Zhao Wuji. That’s how a man should be!