Chapter 43: Sworn to Serve Unto Death

Wolfslayer glanced at Hong Chen, a playful glint in his eye reminiscent of a cat toying with a mouse. “Blame your own bad luck. When gods clash, mortals suffer. You’ve heard that one, haven’t you?”

Murderous intent flickered in Qiu’s gaze, not aimed at Wolfslayer and his men, but at Hong Chen. Tank, knowing Qiu’s decisive and ruthless nature, quickly interjected, “Qiu, he’s here to treat Xiaoyun. Really, it’s us who brought this trouble to him.”

That single sentence dispelled Qiu’s killing intent.

“Tank, surrender now and I’ll let you die quickly. Otherwise, even if those two beauties become corpses, my brothers and I won’t mind savoring them anyway.” Wolfslayer licked his lips, his greedy eyes sliding from Qiu to the girl. He made no move to take Tank and his companion down immediately; the dying struggle of these two still gave him pause. He preferred to wait, hoping to shake their resolve to fight to the death, and if not, at least let their wounds worsen—a little less strength would make them easier prey.

“Spare me your disgusting gaze. I’m not into that. Once again, your feud has nothing to do with me. I’m just an innocent bystander—can you leave me out of it?” The girl, pale and dizzy, leaned against Hong Chen’s chest. Wolfslayer’s suggestive glance made goosebumps rise all over Hong Chen’s skin. He frowned deeply, his expression full of distaste and resentment.

“You talk too much. Keep quiet and I’ll let you be the last to die. One more word, and I’ll send you straight to hell.” Far from averting his eyes, Wolfslayer’s gaze grew even more brazen, devouring the girl from head to toe and back again.

“Remember this: if you want me dead, don’t expect to live comfortably yourself.” A chill crept over Hong Chen’s face. He pushed the girl toward Qiu and shot forward like a bullet.

Though Wolfslayer and his companion hadn’t expected Hong Chen to strike, men of their ilk, who lived by the blade, always kept a measure of caution. Their reaction was not slow. Wolfslayer moved to intercept, while the other attacked from the left.

But just as they sprang into action, Hong Chen’s charge halted abruptly. Both hands flashed; his fingers flicked twice, and four silver needles shot out like bullets. At such close range, Wolfslayer and his companion had no time to dodge. Each took a needle to the chest and belly, and at once their bodies convulsed as if seized by a sudden fit, their faces twisted into masks of agony and terror.

A cold smile curled at Hong Chen’s lips. He struck again, delivering two heavy punches that felled them both.

The two guards at the door blanched at the sight. Their first instinct was to flee, but Hong Chen’s fingers sent another volley of silver needles flying. Though they managed to narrowly dodge at a distance of over ten meters, they lost precious seconds. Hong Chen was already upon them—a fist crashed into one man’s chest, and a brittle crack sounded from within as ribs snapped and the chest collapsed inward. The man was hurled backward, crashing into a machine before crumpling to the ground in a grotesque heap.

The other was swept from the waist by a powerful kick, as if struck by a speeding car. He flew over twenty meters before hitting the ground, coughing up blood in a torrent.

In less than ten seconds, all four men were down. Hong Chen casually brushed imaginary dust from his clothes and lowered his gaze to Wolfslayer, who lay on the ground staring at him with a look of complex emotions. Hong Chen bared his teeth in a smile. “When gods clash, mortals suffer—true enough. But the question is, who are the gods and who the mortals? It’s clearly mortals fighting while the gods watch. Yet you insisted on dragging the gods down with you. Isn’t that laughable?”

Wolfslayer, stifled by frustration, had no strength left for words. His chest heaved, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

“You could have lived to see the sunrise, but you just had to rush into death’s embrace beneath tonight’s moon. Fine, let me grant your wish.”

Hong Chen’s gaze swept past and landed on Qiu and Tank, whose faces were stunned. He scolded, “What are you waiting for? Send them on their final journey.” With that, he pulled out a cigarette and strode out of the warehouse.

Qiu and Tank exchanged a glance. A cold gleam flashed in Tank’s eyes; he darted to Wolfslayer’s side and dealt a fatal blow to his throat. Even in death, Wolfslayer’s eyes remained open, filled with unwillingness, regret, pain, and despair.

Ten minutes later, Hong Chen returned to the warehouse. Not a corpse remained. The girl was lying down again, Qiu tending to her, while Tank sat awkwardly on the ground. As Tank made to stand, Hong Chen pressed his hand, sitting down beside him with a wry smile. “Tell me about yourselves. I’ve been dragged into this for no reason—I ought to know what trouble I might be facing, just to be prepared.”

Qiu’s hand trembled slightly as she held the water bottle. The girl, too, looked over. Tank’s face twisted with indecision. After a moment’s struggle, he abruptly knelt on one knee, looking up at Hong Chen with resolve. “Sir, if not for your intervention, Xiaoyun might not have survived, and if you hadn’t acted just now, we’d both be dead. I have nothing to offer in return. If I’m alive three days from now, my life is yours—I’ll go through fire and water on your command, without so much as a frown.”

He pointed to the girl. “Her name is Ji Yun. She’s my brother’s sister. Before he died, my brother entrusted her to me, asking me to take her back to the Ji family in the capital. I must see it done. For now, I can’t reveal more, but I promise—once Xiaoyun is safely delivered, the past will be finished, and you’ll have no further trouble from us.”

Hong Chen read both the determination and anxiety in Tank’s expression. The resolve spoke of Tank’s commitment; the anxiety, born of witnessing Hong Chen’s power, feared he might demand a full explanation now, threatening the girl if necessary—something Tank would be powerless to resist.

Before Hong Chen could reply, Qiu stepped forward, also dropping to one knee. She quickly typed on her phone and held it up: she, too, was willing to pledge her life, and asked that Hong Chen accompany them to deliver the girl to the Ji family in the capital.

Hong Chen fell into thought. For the sake of the girl, the two had been willing to risk everything, prepared to die to protect her, even urging him to flee with her while they stood as shields. This spoke volumes for their character—better than ninety percent of society. To take them in would be a boon. The only issue was weighing the risks of their journey to the capital, and whether it might draw further trouble to him.

He considered only briefly before making his decision. After all, relationships are built on mutual trust. If you want loyalty unto death, you must be willing to shoulder responsibility, to take risks, and to give as much as you receive. One good deed does not entitle you to another’s life.

Besides, he was already involved. If trouble came, hiding would do little good. Why worry further?

“I agree.” Hong Chen was a man of action, not words. He nodded, and joy blossomed across Qiu’s face, her already beautiful features brightening the dim warehouse.

“Your vocal cords are completely destroyed. Unless there’s some miraculous medicine, I can’t heal that. But the injuries inside your body—I can help with those.”

He helped Qiu to her feet, then patted Tank on the shoulder. “You too—your internal injuries have cost you at least thirty percent of your strength. If left untreated, you’ll be crippled within six months. Let me take care of it.”

“Oh, and don’t call me ‘sir.’ My name is Hong Chen—just call me Chen.”

Both were visibly shaken. Had they not already been badly wounded, Wolfslayer’s group might not have stood a chance. Tank hadn’t asked for treatment earlier out of caution, but now, after seeing Hong Chen’s abilities and pledging their loyalty, all reservations vanished.

An hour later, the way Tank and Qiu looked at Hong Chen was no longer just gratitude—it was reverence. They knew full well the severity of their injuries; these weren’t illnesses, but internal wounds from combat, beyond the reach of ordinary medicine. Only slow self-recovery was possible. Yet now, after Hong Chen’s treatment, their injuries had improved dramatically. Should they meet another foe like Wolfslayer, they could face him one-on-one with confidence.

To be both a master of martial arts and medicine—one who holds life and death in his hands—such people were rare in their world, which obeyed the law of the jungle. They had a name: Warrior-Healers. Within the great powers, they were always key figures. In their early days, they were carefully cultivated; upon rising to prominence, they became transcendent, their status elevating their entire faction to the top of the food chain.

“Chen, Xiaoyun’s identity must remain hidden. Qiu and I have no official status at the moment, so we’ll have to drive ourselves to the capital. We lost half a day already due to her illness. To avoid further complications, let’s set out under cover of night and try to reach the capital in two days.” Now that they’d pledged their loyalty, Tank didn’t bother with further thanks. He checked the time—it was past nine—and spoke up.

Hong Chen nodded in agreement. Remembering he’d be away for at least two days, he pulled out his phone and sent a message to Lin Yuxin on Yunxin, saying that his boss had suddenly gone on a business trip and he’d been asked to drive, so he’d be back in two days at the earliest.