The orthodox sects were poor with clinking and clanging. <Zhang San>'s master's master had only left two things for <Zhang San>'s master.
One was <The Chant of the Grand Dao>, a fake immortal art that <Zhang San> had practiced for twenty years without any results. The other was a black knife blade.
...
The Hei Shanke guest leapt up high, using the Tiger Bite skill!
<Zhang San>'s <Iron Cloth Shirt> was ripped, blood spewing from his mouth as his inner energy spiraled out of control. There was no time left to escape, but this moment left no room for hesitation on his part.
<Zhang San> took out that black knife blade from his sleeve.
Jet black throughout, as thin as a cicada's wing, barely an inch in length.
At this length, it couldn't even be properly gripped, only pinched between the index finger and thumb on both sides of the blade.
<Zhang San> recalled the wound on <Xiu Wangchou>'s chest.
From the Hei Shanke's current state, the stance with which he held the knife, and the trajectory of the knife which seemed to be chopping straight at his own chest...
If the strike that had killed <Xiu Wangchou> was the Hei Shanke's strongest blow,
Then it was highly likely that the knife he was wielding now, in the moment of crisis, was also his strongest strike.
In the next moment, the heavy black knife was upon him.
<Zhang San> knelt on one knee, then slashed out with his knife.
A small night blade!!
...
Thud!
The blade of the black heavy knife fell to the ground.
The famed treasure blade of the Dark Tower, known throughout the jianghu as the “Mad”, had been sliced in two.
The Hei Shanke fell to the ground behind <Zhang San>, stumbling forward two steps as the poison from the black flowers and the Death Powder took full effect. He knelt on the ground.
But he did not understand how, with his mastery and the power of the famed blade in his hand, he had not been able to kill his opponent. Instead, even his blade had been cut in half.
“If you have this level of mastery, why bother with tedious poison tricks?” the Hei Shanke voiced his doubts.
<Zhang San> used his other leg to stand up. With his back facing the Hei Shanke, he said, “It wasn’t mastery. This blade is just too sharp.”
“Sharp?” The Hei Shanke was bewildered.
What joke was this? How could there be such a sharp blade in the mortal realm?
The Hei Shanke twisted his neck to look behind with all his might, only to see the man holding an unbelievably thin and short black knife blade in his hand.
It was actually that short?
It didn’t even have a hilt?
With a knife like this, it had sliced through his “Mad” in an instant.
This world was truly too bizarre.
<Zhang San> turned around, aware that the Hei Shanke no longer had the strength to stand up. He said, “I let my guard down at that final moment, giving you your chance. Thank you for teaching me to never make that mistake again. Actually, you could have killed me, but unfortunately, your final strike — it was the same one you used to kill <Xiu Wangchou>, correct?”
The Hei Shanke tilted his head and asked, “What of it then?”
<Zhang San> said, “As you can see, this knife blade is too thin and short, impossible to grip. It can only be pinched. In a confrontation, even a minute error in exerted force or angle could cut open one's fingers before defeating one's opponent. So over the past three days, other than poisoning, I have studied that knife wound on <Xiu Wangchou>'s chest.”
As one ranked second of the deadliest blade experts below the Sky Realm in the jianghu, the Hei Shanke immediately understood what <Zhang San> had done.
After analyzing the various martial arts for twenty years, <Zhang San> had closely studied the Hei Shanke's “Tiger Bite” skill through <Xiu Wangchou>'s corpse. Then at the pivotal moment of life-and-death, he had executed a flawless strike.
The correct level of force. The precise angle. Along with an extremely sharp blade, it became an unstoppable blow...
This was <Zhang San>'s sole offensive attack — sharing the same name as the black knife blade in his hand, known as “A Small Night Blade.”
It was a strike where victory was assured.
Whether it was slicing one's own fingers first or claiming his opponent's life, all came down to precision and force with “A Small Night Blade.”
“What if...my final strike wasn't Tiger Bite?”
“Then...who knows what the outcome would have been.”
<Zhang San> silently walked up to the Hei Shanke's front, pressing his Small Night Blade against the latter's throat. With coldness, he said, “It seems reality truly runs counter to stories — the villain will not be undone by careless words. Since you are to die, I shall grant your wish to die with clarity. Allow me to reintroduce myself.”
“My name is <Zhang San>. The top-ranked killer Black Eagle on the List — that is me.”
“My skills are the <Iron Cloth Shirt>. My lightness art, <White Crane Flies>.”
“And my masterstroke is A Small Night Blade.”
Execute A Small Night Blade. Wield A Small Night Blade.
As the Hei Shanke sank into the depths of disbelief that he would actually be killed by the famous killer on the List, <Zhang San> sliced open his throat. He died still steeped in incredulity.
Although even if <Zhang San> had done nothing, the Hei Shanke would have perished in a few more breaths. However, <Zhang San> still chose the most foolproof method.
...
Daylight streamed through. Morning rays spilled over, illuminating all.
The county office gates were tightly shut. The eight killers from the Dark Tower and Lin Nu were slowly rousing from their drug-induced stupors.
They were very weak, their entire bodies sore. It was as though all inner energy in their elixir fields had vanished.
This was the immediate sensation upon the nine people awakening — followed swiftly by panic. For martial warriors, nothing was more fearful than the loss of inner energy.
“It appears everyone has awakened,” came an amused voice.
Before the tightly-shut gates stood a man in white smiling at the crowd.
Upon seeing <Zhang San>, the initial reaction from the group of nine was bewilderment. Especially amongst the eight killers from the Dark Tower — aside from the three blind ones, the other five were doubtful about where their Head, Hei Shanke, had gone.
Yet when their gazes took note of the corpse by the stone steps at the door, everyone froze in shock.
Ranked second among killers in the realm — the “Hei Shanke” — had actually died!!
“As intelligent people, I assume you all understand your current plight,” <Zhang San> said, his words relaxed and casual.
After killing Hei Shanke, he had further used an overdose of Energy Dispersing Powder on each person. Let alone those below the Earth Realm, even for upper ranks, none could muster much inner energy for ten hours.
“You...what do you want?” Amongst the crowd, only Lin Nu still retained some presence of mind amidst his panic.
<Zhang San> held <Xiu Wangchou>'s sword in hand and walked to the front of the gates up the stone steps. With a slam, the sword smashed into the steps, embedding itself in the ground.
Smiling at the crowd, <Zhang San> said, “I don't want anything. Just to play a game with you all — a killing game.”
Upon hearing this, Lin Nu flew into a rage out of the mingled terror and fury in his heart. He bellowed, “All of you must not believe him, even if you win...he will definitely...”
At this moment, Lin Nu was still pondering how to incite the other eight killers from the Dark Tower to make a final stand of resistance.
Yet <Zhang San> uttered but one line: “Master Lin, if you do not wish to participate, I can send you off first. But please do not try and provoke the others into pointless defiance — the ones who make the rules of the game are those who hold the knives.”
<Zhang San> revealed the “Small Night Blade” in his hand.
The Hei Shanke's corpse wasn't even cold yet.
Lin Nu dared not speak further. The remaining eight killers even more so understood — someone capable of slaying Hei Shanke would be a formidable personage. Along with their depleted inner force, who would still dare make trouble?
“Excellent.” <Zhang San> smiled slightly.
Next he began to explain the rules. “If I remember correctly, wasn't it one game, only one survivor in your rules, Master Lin?”
All eyes turned towards Lin Nu.
Their piercing looks felt like blades slicing into him. Not daring to keep silent, Lin Nu answered, “Y-Yes...that's right.”
<Zhang San> laughed loudly. “I'm much more humane than Master Lin. Let's do this — nine people total here. You will play eight rounds of the game. Each round, the biggest loser dies. When there is only one person left in the county office, that will be the final survivor.”