Chapter 102: Deceiving Heaven, Altering Fate (7)

The burning of the mountain villa seemed to release some restraint on the blood corpse; its thigh tendons tightened and stretched to their limit, even oozing blood, as its body shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow, leaving only blurred afterimages in the eyes of ordinary people like Xiao Feng.

The blood corpse’s remaining arm slashed through the air, claws aimed at Bai Zhi, who stood furthest forward, shielding Xiao Feng’s family. There was no time to draw a gun at this distance; Bai Zhi flipped her palm and produced a knife handle without a blade.

She released her fingers, using the back of her thumb as an axis, twisting and rotating the naturally falling handle like a pen, allowing the hidden blade to slide out under gravity, transforming into a complete, one-arm-length weapon.

This knife came from the action game series “Dishonored,” essentially a standard folding knife designed specifically for stealth assassinations; normally it was just a handle, but a single twist or forceful flick would slide out the blade to kill enemies.

Bai Zhi held the knife in her right hand and gripped the spine with her left, using both hands to resist the blood corpse’s single arm—but the latter’s brute strength far exceeded expectation, effortlessly overpowering Bai Zhi and slamming the spring knife, along with her left palm, hard against her shoulder.

It forced her to kneel on one knee; her four left fingers were severed as if caught in a factory guillotine.

No follow-up strike = suicide; Li Cheng, well aware of this principle, unhesitatingly spun his long-handled great knife, using its relatively thick spine to smash into the blood corpse’s upper body.

Even reduced to hand-ground meat, the thing still retained life, its quivering pulp mixed with shattered bone fragments crawling toward Xiao Feng’s family at a snail’s pace, as if still hungering for their flesh.

Li Cheng muttered something offhand and turned to look at the ordinary people.

“Damn, isn’t this a classic Zhihu question? Ten billion yuan, but you’re doomed to be hunted for life by a snail.”

She gritted her teeth, twisted her knife-hand to jam the spring blade into the blood corpse’s claw, and her long white hair, draped behind her, surged forward like a living thing, wrapping around the blood corpse’s arm and trapping it.

“No need for thanks. No fingers won’t do.”

Severely wounded, the blood corpse stabilized on its right foot and kicked sideways with its left like a cannonball, aimed at You Anjian’s waist. The latter immediately abandoned his sword, activated a lightness technique, and floated backward like a falling leaf, while triggering the [Come to Reject, Go to Stay Gloves] effect.

Flames erupted instantly, their flickering glow illuminating the varied expressions of everyone alongside the burning mountain villa.

Li Cheng pulled out wound-sealing gel and sprayed it on Bai Zhi’s severed palm and scalp, helping stop the bleeding—earlier, the blood corpse had yanked her hair, tearing her scalp.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Under relentless strikes, the blood corpse’s upper body was chopped into pieces, its skull cracked, its sunken eyeballs bursting out.

In other words, the coffin didn’t contain your wife at all. All your efforts, all your sacrifices—they were just a deliberately staged joke.”

Li Cheng murmured in amazement, picked up his straight blade, and sliced open the blood corpse’s bloody lower body, paying special attention to the pelvic structure and thigh bones.

Lao Feng reeled as if struck by lightning, roaring: “Impossible! Absolutely impossible!”

Lao Feng claimed he never opened the coffin; Zhao Xinglang only learned the truth today, so it wasn’t him. That left only one possibility: someone else opened it.

“Thank you.” Bai Zhi gritted her teeth, picked up the four severed fingers from the ground, and stowed them in her backpack slot to avoid infection. “Add me as a friend—I’ll transfer you the emergency medical costs later.”

“What?!” Not just Xiao Feng’s family and You Anjian and Bai Zhi—all froze in shock; even Lao Feng opened his eyes.

Boom—

“Don’t be sad. It’s not your mother.” Li Cheng said casually, pulled out the disposable phone with Zhao Xinglang’s SIM card and his own smartphone, tapping rapidly on their screens.

The lower body remained standing; the upper body flew upward, then fell under gravity.

As the saying goes, ten fingers connected to the heart—the excruciating pain of severed fingers twisted Bai Zhi’s face into a grimace.

With arms and legs restrained, the blood corpse’s cloudy, sunken eyes faintly reflected Li Cheng’s figure: he gripped the 170 straight blade, his left sleeve rolled up, revealing the White Bone Corridor.

More importantly, the blood corpse’s thigh bones showed signs of prior fracture and shattering—completely different from the cause of death of Lao Feng’s wife.

“Whether it’s possible or not? Just see if this phone gets answered.” Li Cheng said, dialing the number of the villa’s gardener from his contacts.

The long-anticipated thunderstorm finally arrived; rain pelted the concrete ground before the villa, releasing an odor like moss (actually geosmin).

Also, the blood corpse’s pelvic region was overall narrow and high, with a rougher surface and heavier bone density—clearly different from the female pelvis, which is wider and lower, with a smoother surface and lighter bone structure.

Dum—dum—dum—

The opportunity vanished in an instant; You Anjian drew his sword and slashed at the side of the blood corpse’s neck, his sword qi cleaving through tendons like a hot knife through butter until it struck the cervical vertebrae with a dull “clang.”

“I’ll do it.”

Lao Feng’s head bowed in resignation, eyes closing silently. Xiao Feng stared at the burning pile of his mother’s remains, unable to speak a word.

During his last routine mission, “Alien Outbreak,” he killed the Triangle Head in the bunker and recorded its [Bloodlust Fury] skill into his White Bone Corridor. The effect: slightly increased attack speed after wounding a living target—perfect for this moment.

“You’ve all been deceived. Zhao Xinglang, and Lao Feng too.”

You Anjian sighed, gestured for Bai Zhi to retract her hair, then pulled a can of gasoline from his backpack slot and poured it over the blood corpse’s pulp.

He then took out a cigarette and matches, lit the cigarette and placed it between his lips, then casually tossed the match forward.

The White Bone Bracers ejected a black jetstream, like rocket boosters, propelling Li Cheng’s arm as he swung the blade with all his strength into the blood corpse’s waist.

Li Cheng operated his smartphone, contacting Yuan Zhixia, and sneered: “The coffin lid bears two sets of opening marks: one opened from the outside within the past few months, and one opened from the inside today by the blood corpse.”

First release repulsion, sending the longsword slicing across the blood corpse’s spine, spinning twenty meters away; then unleash full absorption, reversing the blade’s direction, driving it at high speed into the blood corpse’s calf tendon—and the momentum didn’t stop, burying itself deep into the concrete ground.

Like a nail, pinning the blood corpse in place.

The long-handled great knife, heavier than a human’s, accelerated by momentum, half-sliced, half-crushed the blood corpse’s spine, cutting it cleanly in half.

After three silent rings, the call connected.

“Good evening. I didn’t expect you’d actually answer this call.” Li Cheng said. “Should I call you the gardener—or the mastermind behind it all?”

(End of Chapter)