SFS Chapter 43: They Don't Deserve It
Chapter 43: They Don't Deserve It
"Heh...heh..."
This time, the gasps came from those who were still alive.
The arrogance on the faces of Feng Tianming's henchmen had long been crushed by boundless fear. They looked at the young master's corpse on the ground, and then at Hua Baifeng's wisp of hand that had been withdrawn at some point, as if it had only been a flick of her sleeve. They trembled like fallen leaves in the cold wind.
"Green...green...green demon hand!!!"
A hoarse, trembling voice, filled with extreme horror, suddenly burst out from the corner.
The speaker was a middle-aged man who had been chatting and laughing with Lin Anshan and the others earlier.
He seemed to have some experience in the ways of the world and knew quite a lot.
His face was deathly pale, his finger trembled as he pointed at Hua Baifeng, and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
"That must be the Azure Demon Hand! The Azure Demon Hand, ranked ninth on the weapon ranking list! It's deadly upon contact with blood, and extremely poisonous! ...But, isn't the Azure Demon Hand, Yi Ku, a man? How...how could it be in the hands of a little girl?!"
"The Azure Demon Hand?!"
These three words exploded like a thunderclap in the deathly silent shop!
Just moments ago, the crowd was merely intimidated by the ruthless methods; now, they were utterly terrified!
Weapon Ranking!
Blue Demon Hand!
That was a legendary weapon recognized throughout the martial arts world, a symbol of death and terror!
Countless people have only heard of him but never seen him, yet today he appears in the hands of a young girl in such a bloody and bizarre way in this small Shouyang noodle shop!
Fear, like ice water, instantly seeped into everyone's bones.
However, this is just the beginning.
Among Feng Tianming's terrified henchmen, one of the slightly bolder ones, perhaps accustomed to bullying others or perhaps driven by extreme fear to foolish courage, pointed at Hua Baifeng and shouted in a shrill voice:
"Witch! You...you dared to kill our Young Master Feng! Do you know he was the eldest grandson of the Golden Knife Feng family! Old Master Feng will never let you get away with this! The Feng family will tear you to pieces..."
His shouting stopped abruptly.
Because a dazzling, deadly silver light bloomed without warning.
From Xue Bufu's other side, there was the Thousand-Handed Rakshasa, who had been observing coldly from the sidelines, dressed in luxurious finery.
She didn't even get up; she just sat there, her jade-like right hand casually brushing against the edge of the table.
Whoosh!Whoosh!Whoosh!Whoosh!
The sound of something cutting through the air was faint and rapid, so fast that it formed a continuous line.
A few cold stars drew near-perfect arcs under the dim light, their precision chilling, before disappearing into the throats of the henchmen!
Their shouts and threats, along with the lingering fear and ferocity on their faces, froze instantly.
A tiny red dot appeared on everyone's throat, and then blood began to gush out.
They clutched their necks, making strange gurgling sounds in their throats, and the last glimmer of light in their eyes quickly faded as they collapsed to the ground one after another like felled wooden stakes.
This time, there wasn't even a gasp of surprise.
All that remained was boundless silence and an even stronger stench of blood.
The middle-aged man who recognized the Green Demon Hand was now pale as a ghost, his legs cramping, and he was almost collapsing to the ground.
He stared intently at the Thousand-Armed Rascal's well-maintained, slender hands that had claimed several lives in an instant. His lips trembled, and with an even fainter, yet still audible whisper, he uttered another chilling name:
"Thousand... Thousand-Armed Rakshasa..."
Thousand-Armed Rakshasa!
This name is perhaps far less intimidating than the Azure Demon Hand on the Weapon Ranking.
But for those who have truly struggled in the lower echelons of society and heard countless rumors, its meaning is equally terrifying.
—The mysterious, ruthless, and infamous bandit Thousand-Handed Rakshasa, a figure feared throughout the underworld, is now right in front of them!
Blue Demon Hand!
Thousand-Armed Rakshasa!
The appearance of these two titles in succession completely shattered the last shred of hope in the hearts of the remaining "young talents" in the shop.
"Caw! It's that female demon, Thousand-Handed Rakshasa... the Thousand-Handed Rakshasa, unparalleled in hidden weapons... Run... run fast!"
Someone, whose voice had gone awry, let out the first scream.
As if a fuse had been lit in a powder keg, the remaining people also exploded, no longer caring about manners, loyalty, or their ambition to capture the Plum Blossom Thief together.
All of that is utter nonsense in the face of one's own life.
They scrambled toward the door like startled rabbits, knocking tables and chairs over and making a clattering sound as dishes shattered.
Some people even stumbled around Feng Tianming's corpse, which was still emitting a strange smell, almost falling to the ground. They then scrambled to their feet and desperately rushed out.
"Go find Young Master Qin quickly!"
"Quickly inform the Feng family!"
"Evil man! Demon!"
The chaotic, fearful screams quickly faded into the distance, followed by a cacophony of footsteps.
In an instant, the shop, which was just packed with people, was reduced to a few corpses on the ground and only a handful of people remained.
Old Liu had already huddled behind the stove, covering his head, trembling like a leaf.
Xue Bufu and his group of six remained unmoved.
The man in black in the corner remained seated, but when he looked at Hua Baifeng's Azure Demon Hand, a glimmer of light flashed in his deathly gray eyes for the first time.
The boy leaning against the wall finally finished the last mouthful of noodle soup, gently placing the rough porcelain bowl on the table with a soft "thump".
He still didn't look at the corpses on the ground, nor at Xue Bufeng and the others. He just stared at the empty bowl with his cold and stubborn eyes, as if he was thinking about the saltiness of the noodle soup, or something else.
But all in all, it's definitely something more interesting than what we just talked about.
"whee,"
Hua Baifeng turned to Xue Bufeng and smiled, her voice clear and melodious:
"Senior brother, are you just going to let those small fry get away like that? They'll definitely go get reinforcements."
Xue Bufeng laughed as well: "I thought you would make a move."
Hua Baifeng said, "I have to leave you a few, don't you like them?"
Xue Bufeng retorted, "Are they worthy?"
Hua Baifeng actually thought about it for a moment, then stuck out her tongue:
"I think they are unworthy. My senior brother's sword is a demonic sword that my father personally ordered to be forged with painstaking effort. It's not a butcher's knife used to slaughter pigs and sheep. Naturally, he wouldn't kill these low-class people. But I..."
Xue Bufeng said, "But you also refuse to use the Azure Demon Hand to kill these people because you look down on them and feel that killing such people would tarnish the Azure Demon Hand."
Hua Baifeng smiled radiantly and said nothing more.
This is undoubtedly the best proof of Xue Bufu's words.
Their conversation, seemingly oblivious to everyone else, was as casual as if they hadn't just killed several people instantly, terrifying the young talents and heroes to the point of utter panic, but rather simply swatted a few buzzing flies.
The Thousand-Armed Rakshasa remained silent throughout.
She had no particular taboos.
But she wasn't a serial killer after all.
Why kill someone who hasn't provoked her?
At worst, we can just leave.
The shop fell silent again.
But this quiet was completely different from the previous deathly silence.
It carried the stench of blood and the lingering murderous intent.
The man in black slowly shifted his gaze from Hua Baifeng's green demon hand to the blood-stained blade at Xue Bufeng's waist, lingering on it for a longer time than ever before.
The boy finally raised his head.
It wasn't about Xue Bufu, nor was it about the corpse on the ground.
His gaze passed over the shop and fell on the gradually descending twilight outside the door.
His eyes remained cold and calm.
It was as still as a deep pool, as cold as the iron plate sandwiched between the two wooden planks at his waist.
For him, it was a sword.
A murderous sword!
And it's time for this deadly sword to be drawn again.