In the pitch-black night, dozens of glowing golden eyes flickered, brimming with bloodlust and cruelty.
Shadowy figures moved like phantoms, their forms blending into the darkness. Before anyone realized it, the entire salt-flat was surrounded. The air was heavy, thick with the ominous tension of an impending storm.
"Death Servitor?"
Chu Zihang, who had been resting with his eyes closed in the car, slowly opened them. His cold voice carried the sharpness of an unsheathed blade, laced with a chilling killing intent.
Memories buried deep within him stirred, as if awakened by this moment.
In the pouring rain, the image of a man striking at a god with a single slash surfaced, along with the memory of the long-lost Bridge No. 000—a place he could never return to.
Perhaps it was the intertwining of old grudges and new hatred, but an uncontrollable surge of murderous intent began to well up inside him. He felt an almost irresistible urge to draw his long blade from its black sheath and cut down the disgusting creatures surrounding them.
"Chu Zihang."
At that moment, Adam's voice suddenly reached him.
The voice was like a bucket of cold water poured over Chu Zihang, snapping him out of the extreme emotions overtaking him.
The nameless fire of rage dissipated, and he instantly regained his composure. Taking a deep breath, he gave Adam a grateful look, acknowledging the timely intervention.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I just finished praising your Japan Division for being thorough," Caesar remarked with a smirk. His sideways glance at Gen Chisei was full of mockery, showing not a hint of worry. "And here you are, messing up already. We haven't even reached the hotel, and you've arranged a little performance for us?"
"Performance?" Gen Chisei's face darkened, his jaw tightening. He wanted to retort but stopped himself, feeling a deep sense of shame instead.
He was, after all, the young master of the prestigious Yamata no Orochi Families. Yet under his watch, these abominable creatures had not only appeared but had also followed them all the way here, ruining what was meant to be a simple welcoming ceremony.
It was a blatant insult to the honor of the Yamata no Orochi Families.
In the Japanese underworld, honor was valued more than life itself.
"I'll give the three of you a reasonable explanation for this."
Gen Chisei, feeling thoroughly humiliated, let out a heavy breath. His face darkened as he said in a low voice, "But right now, I don't think there's any need for a head-on clash."
"Agreed," Caesar said casually, flicking the ash off his cigar. He gazed at the group closing in outside the window and added, "But I doubt they'll just let us leave so easily now that they've followed us this far."
"Want to bet on it?"
Gen Chisei climbed into the driver's seat and, without turning back, declared, "One minute. I'll lose them."
In the back seat, Caesar's interest was piqued. He never backed down from a fun challenge. Smirking, he said, "Alright, I'm in. If you can't shake them off in one minute, you'll have to wear a host's outfit and pour drinks for everyone, one by one."
A sharp glint flashed across Gen Chisei's delicate, almost androgynous face. Half-closing his eyes, he replied in a steady tone, "Deal."
As soon as the words left his mouth, he slammed the gas pedal to the floor. The engine roared to life.
The tires screeched against the ground, sending up dust and salt as the Hummer tore across the uneven terrain. The bumpy, rocky road was a nightmare for the three passengers in the back. If they hadn't held onto their seats with all their strength, they might have been knocked out cold from the jerking movements.
The pursuers, realizing their prey was attempting to escape, let out blood-curdling screeches and howls. Like crazed beasts, they surged forward from the shadows of the pitch-black night.
Gen Chisei, a cigarette dangling from his lips, kept his gaze icy and fixed on the road ahead. He didn't hesitate for even a second, stomping the gas pedal as if he intended to crush it beneath his foot.
BANG!
The front bumper shook violently as one of the attackers was sent flying.
"Sakura!"
Gen Chisei's cold voice cut through the tense air.
Almost simultaneously, the girl in the passenger seat shed her suit jacket and shirt, revealing a tightly-fitted mesh outfit beneath, bristling with all sorts of metallic blades.
Caesar's eyes lit up with surprise and delight as he boldly looked her over. "A ninja?"
Sakura ignored his impertinent gaze. With practiced agility, she flipped out of the car window and pressed her body low against the roof. Her hands moved in a blur as she began wielding her weapons with deadly precision.
The thin metal blade tore through the air with a sharp, piercing sound. The pursuers who tried to catch up were struck down one by one, their cries of pain echoing as they fell.
But such attacks weren't enough to stop these crazed "beasts." At best, it could only delay them for a moment.
The V8 engine of the Humvee roared ferociously, launching the vehicle off the barren salt flats and onto the highway. On the smooth asphalt, the speed climbed to its peak.
On the roof of the car, Ying remained as steady as a rock. Her hands moved like fluttering butterflies, silver flashes dancing in the dark night as if she were playing a symphony on a piano.
Soon, the crazed Death Servitor began to fall far behind, their figures fading into the distance.
Through the rearview mirror, Gen Chisei's lips curled into a confident smile. He felt like they'd finally gained the upper hand.
"Looks like I've won this bet," he said.
"A bet's a bet," Caesar replied. He flicked his cigar out the window, admitting defeat with a carefree attitude.
Inside the car, Chu Zihang, who had been silent the whole time, suddenly spoke.
"No, it's not that simple. Death Servitor don't give up this easily."
"These aren't just Death Servitor."
Gen Chisei gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes cold and serious.
"They're Oni Clan—a group of people who should've been dead long ago."
"Oni Clan?"
Both Chu Zihang and Caesar looked puzzled.
"A bunch of maniacs," Gen Chisei muttered, clearly unwilling to dwell on the topic.
"The Sheqi Bajia (Yamata no Orochi) has been trying to wipe them out for years."
Chu Zihang and Caesar exchanged glances, sensing that these so-called "Oni Clan" were somehow connected to the Dragonblood Gene Serum at the heart of their mission.
Earlier, when those men ignited their golden pupils, their bloodlines had shown signs of instability—eerily similar to what had happened in Brooklyn.
But judging by Gen Chisei's expression, it was obvious he wouldn't spill any more information. Suppressing their curiosity, the two decided to let the matter rest—for now.
At this moment, Adam's eyes flickered slightly, as if he had noticed something. Staring at the pitch-black road ahead, he said calmly, "Mr. Gen Chisei, it seems the 'Oni Clan' you spoke of doesn't intend to let us off so easily."
The next second, a figure suddenly appeared in the middle of the road.
Dressed in traditional Japanese theatrical attire, the figure's flowing sleeves danced in the wind. In his right hand, he held a long blade, staring at the speeding Hummer with an intense, piercing gaze. His golden eyes burned like molten gold, exuding an overwhelming aura, surging like a raging tsunami.
Then, facing the roaring steel beast charging toward him, the androgynous youth bent low like a madman, his hand firmly gripping the hilt of his sword.
The violent friction between blade and sheath erupted in a shower of sparks against the darkness of the night.
The crimson blade unsheathed with a piercing screech.
The youth, with his delicate and feminine features, released a terrifying aura. His powerful bloodline surged uncontrollably within him, causing the veins on the back of his hand to bulge as he gripped the hilt.
As the steel beast neared, he unleashed his power in an instant, cutting through the night with a dazzling flash of light.
"Jump out of the car!"
Caesar's pupils shrank as he sensed the danger, shouting sharply.
Without hesitation, Gen Chisei and Sakura leaped from the windows on either side.
Meanwhile, Chu Zihang didn't forget his teammate—grabbing Adam, he kicked the car door open and jumped out as well.
Clang!!!
The crimson blade tore through the air, slicing the Hummer cleanly in half.
The residual energy from the strike carved a visible trench into the asphalt, stretching over ten meters before finally fading away.
The Hummer, split in two, slid across the road for dozens of meters before exploding in a massive ball of fire.
The group tumbled to the ground, battered and disheveled.
Caesar got to his feet, brushing the dust off his clothes. "Looks like this time, you lost the bet."
But Gen Chisei wasn't paying attention. His wide eyes were fixed on the figure, disbelief written all over his face. His throat tightened as he rasped, "Is it… is it you, Gen Chime?"
The youth, with his feminine elegance, tilted his head and smiled faintly. "No, you've got the wrong person. I'm Kazama Ruri."
********
Support me on my patreon and read upto 15 early chapters.
https://www.patreon.com/Unique_Writer