He's Actually Pretty Nice!

"Holy shit!" Astride the leg-sprouting coining press, Ji Jue froze on the spot. He had not sensed a trace of presence beforehand—Sudden Premonition hadn't even had time to trigger. He was caught completely flat-footed. And the squad facing him froze just as stiffly. Stunned, paralyzed. In fact, they were suffocating in sheer terror! In their senses, it felt as though a black hole had torn open before them! Without the slightest warning, an unforeseen, eerie silhouette blocked their path, utterly soundless. Astride a twisted monstrosity that looked neither horse nor spider, the uncanny figure draped in gray robes looked down coldly. His back bulged high, as though misshapen, and beneath an ornate, savage visor, only two beams of crimson flame burned. He looked down in chilling silence. Countless black threads coiled around his body, yet dared not draw near, circling him like an honor guard, writhing through the air like the blooming and withering of dark lotuses. The instant the squad sensed him, the waist tallies in their robes shuddered violently, as if in dread. The tally in the leader's palm struggled fiercely as well, almost tearing free from his grip. "What—" Before Ji Jue could instinctively follow up with a jumping cleave, a shrill scream erupted from the squad. "Don't move! Nobody move!" A monk's eyes abruptly leaked streams of bloody tears. He shrieked in agony, his vision plunging into pitch darkness as his body convulsed in terror. Just an instinctive glance, a careless sweep of his peripheral vision, and his soul had suffered a devastating blow. In that fleeting glimpse, he had seen only the boundless dark Shadow of the Tower clinging to the figure's form, completely fused with it. Yet within that eerie body pulsed two violent, scorching waves, resonating and harmonizing with the entire Border Realm at every moment, as if they were one and the same! Just what kind of monster was this?! Now, under the shocked and terrified gazes of everyone present, that bizarre creature stepped forward, drawing nearer one stride at a time amid the screech of grinding metal. A skeletal face looked down, blood-red flames burning silently upon the visor. It cast a towering shadow. At the very front of the squad, Duke Wuyou's confidant dropped to his knees without a second thought. Performing the etiquette taught by Duke Wuyou, he prostrated himself and kowtowed with immense devotion. Behind him, the others threw themselves to the ground one after another, scrambling to follow suit. Ji Jue's expression, on the other hand, turned rather peculiar. Huh? What in the world are they doing? *Wait, this situation doesn't seem to be what I thought it was.* Beneath the mask, his face twitched slightly. After all, among the sixteen Sin-Bearers in the group before him, there were quite a few in the Regeneration tier. If they actually banded together, in an encounter like this, a single round of focused fire might blast him, an artisan, straight to kingdom come. If he couldn't keep his composure and blew his cover— In that instant, a raspy voice like grinding steel sounded from beneath the mask. Instantly, countless echoes and responses rose from all around. As if passing judgment from a place of lofty contempt: "Entering the sacrificial temple without an imperial edict... by law, the penalty is—" "S-Senior, wait!" At the very front of the line on the ground, the Sin-Bearer holding the tally seemed to recall something, as though struck by lightning, and shrieked in panic. *Indeed, hold on!* Because Ji Jue had no idea what the penalty was supposed to be either. In the end, he had asked only a single question—hadn't even finished half of it—and the other side started wailing and sobbing. Shocked out of their wits, before they could even think, they began crying out about how the grand imperial cause had crumbled, its glory faded, how their master Wuyou had harbored grand ambitions from youth, seeking to uphold the state, rebuild heaven and earth, bearing humiliation and burdens, and on and on. As he spoke, he dumped out everything he carried in one frantic mess, desperately hoping something might prove useful. Yet when that pile of battered relics clattered onto the ground, the eerie figure before them didn't react in the slightest. Everyone's hearts crept into their throats. In the dead silence, several people in the squad exchanged glances, a savage glint surfacing in their eyes—waiting for the slightest shift in the situation to either lash out in rebellion or turn and flee. Ji Jue's heart sank to rock bottom. *Rebuild the dynasty, my ass!* *How did I run straight into these restorationist remnants the moment I walked out the door?* *And this squad is a veritable rogue's gallery—their lineup's even more mixed up than Lu Changsheng's!* Yet looking down at the pile of bells, waist tallies, jade pendants, and headpieces they had produced, a sudden thought struck him. Immediately after, everyone watched as a rusted iron arm slowly extended from beneath the grayish-black robe and picked up a random piece from the pile. Then, as if it had passed verification. Just as everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief, the shrill, ear-grating screech of grinding metal rang out once more. "The death penalty may be remitted, but the living punishment is inescapable—" Beneath the eerie monster's crimson gaze, a cold decree boomed: "You are sentenced to the severing of hands!" The man at the front froze. Hesitant, but feeling the stares of everyone behind him, he swallowed dryly, not daring to delay any longer. He didn't even dare ask whether it was one hand or both. Clean and swift, he drew his blade, hacked off his left hand, clamped the hilt between his teeth, and ruthlessly swept it across his right wrist. With a muffled grunt, blood spurted, and two severed hands hit the ground. The pooling crimson blood gathered, wriggling up along the mechanical beast's body, as if vanishing into the eerie silhouette. With that, the figure withdrew his gaze. The others breathed sighs of relief, but before any smiles could break out, they saw those crimson eyes land on the second person—the monk bleeding from his eyes. "Disrespecting the imperial majesty. You are sentenced to the gouging of your eyes!" "?" Before the bewildered monk could process what was happening, the man beside him lunged. Before his comrades could stop him, he pinned the monk down and cleanly gouged out both eyes. He offered them up with both hands. Beneath the gaze of blazing crimson eyes, those shattered eyeballs seemed to be lifted by an invisible hand and crushed into powder. Then came the third— "Men of the White Stag, defying imperial rule." Ji Jue lowered his eyes and coldly declared, "You are sentenced to the breaking of your legs!" The White Stag mutant's expression twisted violently. Suddenly, he gritted his teeth. Before anyone could react, he erupted! The Path of the White Stag was all about swiftness and agile maneuvers. Cutting off his legs was worse than killing him; he had no choice but to fight for his life! His speed was so extreme that Ji Jue's gaze couldn't even keep up, completely unable to react. Yet, as if intimidated by the eerie figure's overwhelming presence, the man didn't dare charge forward to fight to the death. Instead, he spun around without hesitation and sprinted away at full throttle, seeking reinforcement. Unfortunately, that direction... huh? Ji Jue's expression turned nuanced—wasn't that the great hall where he had just scraped off the murals, smashed the statues, and painted a Welcoming Pine? Those afterimages and statues were practically doing sit-ups right now... Brother, don't have such bad luck as to run head-on into them! Not long after, just a few seconds later, a bloodcurdling shriek drifted from afar. Amid everyone's stupor, fractured crunches echoed from the distance. Soon, a wailing remnant suspended by black threads rose slowly like a balloon, witnessed by all. *Gulp.* In the dead silence, everyone swallowed dryly, not even realizing what the eerie figure before them had done. Soon, however, they noticed the fury surfacing upon that mask. When those eyes of blood and fire looked down once more, none of them could stop their entire bodies from running cold! Crap! Was it too late to draw a line between themselves and that idiot now?! "Disrespecting imperial law—the crime is punishable by death!" The enraged eerie figure surged with fire, wisps of flame licking and dancing out from beneath the curtain-like gray robes, ready to devour anyone. Countless sounds of grinding steel overlapped, turning into a chilling, raspy voice: "—Pay tribute and offer sacrifice to redeem your sins!" While everyone was dazed and dumbfounded, a rust-covered iron limb lifted, pointing straight at the monk leading their group. More precisely, at the vajra tucked in his robes! The monk froze, instinctively taking a step back, wanting to protect his lineage's treasured heirloom. Instantly, he felt the stares from the others, and even heard subtle footsteps cutting off his retreat. One by one, hands grabbed his arms and clothes, suppressing any chance of resistance. Their eyes were panicked and wary. *Wealth is just an earthly possession, brother—don't you dare drag us all down with you!* *Wait, you're not actually thinking of keeping it, are you?* Under the stares of his companions and the crimson gaze looking down, the monk struggled, gritted his teeth, and slowly raised trembling hands, offering up the vajra. His heart bled. The iron limb clamped onto the vajra, pulled back, and vanished beneath the gray robes. The monk's face twitched. He felt the connection between himself and the Wulou Temple heirloom sever instantly, as if it had vanished completely from existence. His heart went completely cold. Then, everyone saw the iron limb stretch out once more, lifting to point at another person's neck—at a necklace, an artifact of blessing. ... By the time the necklace's owner realized what was happening, it was too late. Once again, he was surrounded by his teammates, particularly the monk who had just lost his vajra, who clamped onto his arm with an iron grip. *Don't you dare try to run!* *If you run, wouldn't my offering just now be in vain?* *Besides, weren't you one of the bastards forcing me just now?!* "This is all for Duke Wuyou's grand cause!" The monk forced a vicious grin, squeezing words through his teeth. "You wouldn't be unwilling, would you?" "...Thank you so fucking much." The owner of the necklace almost burst into tears. Forcing a smile, his trembling hands handed over the necklace. Then, everyone saw, yet again, the iron hand rise and point toward the poisoned dagger tucked in another person's robes... Amid stifled sobs, the offerings began anew. One offering after another, two, three, four, five... Offer! Offer! Offer! Offer! Offer! Just when everyone was on the verge of snapping and revolting in desperation, the offerings of redemption reached an opportune end. There was simply nothing left worth looting. Earrings, necklaces, vajras, daggers, belts, armor... he hadn't even spared their shoes! On top of that, gouging eyes, chopping fingers, severing hands, breaking legs—tormenting people in every conceivable way... "From this day forth, conduct yourselves with prudence." When that eerie silhouette finally nodded slowly and receded into the distance amid everyone's trembling breaths, the survivors could barely keep from weeping in each other's arms. Finally! It was finally over! A chill wind blew silently, making everyone shiver. Looking at one another's miserable states, their tears could barely be held back. In just a few short minutes, treasures cherished more than life itself had been utterly plundered. The squad that had set out so high-spirited now looked like a bunch of filthy beggars who had drifted into the Empire from out of town—hardly a whole person could be found among them. Worst of all, from start to finish, they didn't even know what that thing was! Still, the silver lining in their misfortune was that they had at least gained something! Before leaving, that eerie figure had handed them tokens of his own. Though they looked like random scraps of iron, holding them gave an extraordinary sense of security. Furthermore, he had reminded them: if they encountered anyone like him ahead, all they had to do was present the token and kowtow a thousand times. How should one put it... He was actually pretty nice! "No more delays, time is running out." The leader whose hands had been chopped off had no time to wipe the snot and tears from his face. Choking back a sob, he vowed, "Complete the master's grand plan early, and all of you will be rewarded!" "Right, right, right!" "Exactly!" Amid the echoes of agreement, no one dared dawdle. Illuminated by the rising flares in the distance, they leaned on and supported one another, limping forward toward the distant high tower, their departing silhouettes thoroughly pathetic. Meanwhile, on the empty street, a certain silhouette that was supposed to have departed long ago poked his head back out in secret. Rubbing his chin, he watched their retreating backs. Full of curiosity. What kind of stunt are these pieces of trash trying to pull?