Chapter 120: A Corrupt System

The heavy rain persisted, with lightning flashes periodically tearing through the night sky, illuminating the landscape and a scene unfolding in the storm.

The brilliance of a lightning strike masked the flash of a blade. The old man’s chest was pierced, and a gleaming steel tip protruded from his back. "Ugh... ugh... ugh..." He clawed feebly at the white-clad figure’s clothes, his eyes wide as if trying to discern the young man's face, but finally, he went limp and collapsed, his blood mingling with the muddy water.

The white-clad man’s garments were stained crimson by the old man’s blood. His clothes, already drenched, shone with an eerie, snowy brightness in the night. Another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, revealing his face—refined, yet marked by a faint, mischievous smirk. It seemed as if the world had gone mad; everyone of note seemed to carry that same teasing smile. Yet, those who wore such expressions were rarely ordinary; they must possess some unique brilliance, for without it, they would lack the confidence for such a look.

The man in white stepped forward to deliver a final blow. Once certain the old man was truly dead, he slit his throat. The old man had lived for over a century, and who knew what hidden defenses he might have had? But with a throat severed, even the most legendary skills would be rendered useless. It was clear this man was ruthless and decisive.

After finishing the deed, the man in white vanished into the vast, rainy night, leaving the corpse behind to be battered by the downpour. Soon, the spot became a pool of red, stained by the spreading blood.

"Damn it! You actually let him go! Are you stupid?!"

Seeing Lin Dapao truly release the old man, Song Nianqiang shouted in frustration. Lin Dapao shrugged indifferently. "Relax. Even if I let him go, he wouldn't last long. His soul was heavily damaged by the Soul-Eater; he won't make it past tomorrow."

Song Nianqiang rolled his eyes, still uneasy. "No way! That old monster has lived for so long; he might have some way to survive. I need to see his corpse with my own eyes to be sure!" He turned to the large man behind him. "Fatty, let's go! Catch up to that old man and..." Song Nianqiang didn't finish his sentence, already pushing the door open to head out.

"Wait for me! I need to wake these people up!" Seeing the two really intended to pursue him, Lin Dapao shouted before running behind the service counter. He slapped the two unconscious attendants on the head and quickly chased after Song Nianqiang.

"Hey! Why did you stop? What are you doing standing like fools in the rain?"

Lin Dapao caught up, holding an umbrella, his pant legs rolled high, skipping lightly to avoid the puddles. Song Nianqiang and the others had rushed out without umbrellas and were already soaked to the bone. It looked like they would need to find Bozi to buy new clothes.

"You really thought ahead, didn't you, finding time for an umbrella!" Song Nianqiang was both angry and amused. He didn't dare push the issue; this guy was an absolute master who had defeated a hundred-year-old monster. His own meager skills were nothing compared to Lin Dapao’s.

"What's wrong with an umbrella? Didn't I tell you he would die? See, wasn't I right?" Lin Dapao said smugly, looking at the motionless old man. "He’s dead, sure, but not by your hand. It’s obvious someone stabbed him through the chest and then finished him off with a second blow to the neck!" Song Nianqiang was starting to feel a grudging admiration for Lin Dapao.

"What?! Are you sure?" Lin Dapao’s expression changed, and he hurried over. Even with terrible eyesight, it was clear the old man had been murdered. Lin Dapao crouched down to examine the wounds. The chest wound was straightforward—a clean piercing strike—but the wound on the neck was peculiar.

The blade had severed the neck entirely, leaving only a sliver of skin intact. Perhaps it was a coincidence, but one thing was certain: a severed neck should bleed profusely and not hold together, yet the old man’s neck remained perfectly aligned. Had Lin Dapao not touched it, he would never have known.

"The person who killed him is a master of the blade—clean, swift, and decisive!" Lin Dapao was uncharacteristically serious. He cast aside his umbrella, reached into the water-logged ground, and felt around for a moment before saying with certainty, "He headed that way. Shall we track him down?"

Song Nianqiang didn't want to make an enemy of such a master, so he shook his head. "Forget it. He has his reasons for wanting to remain hidden. But we have another problem: where are we going to sleep tonight?"

At the thought of sleep, Lin Dapao’s face showed rare distress. "If I’d known this, I would have left with my master. Now you two are responsible for me! Otherwise, I’ll hang you both outside to soak in the rain all night!"

Sweating, Song Nianqiang consulted with the big man. With nowhere else to go, the three headed toward the police station, intending to report the old man's death at the same time.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the station. Fortunately, the lights were still blazing inside and out—it seemed the incident at Xiaowang Village had kept the force busy.

"Where’s the Chief? I need to see him!" The three burst in, disheveled. Song Nianqiang shouted at the top of his lungs, causing the officers to stop their work and stare. None of the three felt any shame; their hides were thick enough.

"He's in his office. Please, follow me." A policewoman reacted first and led them to the Chief’s door. She started to knock, but Song Nianqiang pushed the door open himself.

"Get out!"

The Chief seemed to be in a foul mood. He was slumped over his desk, pulling at his hair, and roared without looking up. It gave Song Nianqiang a start, though the policewoman who had led them was even more terrified.

Song Nianqiang waved for the officer to leave, and she fled as if granted a pardon.

"Chief, what has you so worked up? You’re not getting any younger; getting this angry isn't good for your health!" Song Nianqiang said with a sarcastic tone. The Chief trembled at the sound of his voice and stood up immediately, offering an apologetic, bitter smile. "You don't understand. Bozi has gone too far! He treats me like I don't exist!"

"Oh? What does this have to do with Bozi?" Song Nianqiang had just left Bozi's place; how could he have caused such a stir that even the Chief was in a panic?

"He dragged all the doctors in the hospital to his son's bedside, threatening to kill them all if they couldn't save him. But the boy's condition isn't simple. It started as simple blood loss, but after a transfusion, he got worse. Bozi is at the hospital right now, threatening to execute those 'quacks'!" The Chief rubbed his forehead again.

"If that's the case, why are you sitting here? Go stop him!" Song Nianqiang was curious. A good public servant shouldn't sit by, but the Chief’s expression only grew more pained. "It's not that I don't want to, but Bozi has given me too many gifts. If he goes down, I go down with him."

Such is the corruption of the system.