Chapter 42: 41 Out of Control

41 Out of Control

Rumble...

Tang Zhao tumbled down the stairs.

These stairs were very long, rugged, and winding; it was naturally impossible for him to roll all the way down. After seven or eight steps, he collided with a corner, and a physical brake brought him to a stop.

"I... damn..."

Tang Zhao was completely disoriented and dazed, having no idea how he had fallen.

Was it the Judge who pushed him?

No...

Tang Zhao recalled slightly and knew it wasn't. The giant rock was still suspended, the Judge couldn't have come down, and there was no reason to. The one who could have ambushed him from behind should be...

Just then, he heard a few noises at the entrance above, a thud, and then it suddenly went quiet.

The gate at the entrance had closed again!

It was already dark underground, and it was night outside, so there hadn't been much light to begin with. Separated by another layer of the gate, it became even more pitch-black. The narrow passageway had become a gloomy prison.

Tang Zhao sat on the stairs, not knowing how things were above. He was in pain all over and his mind was still foggy, but he was no longer thinking about how he had arrived, but rather, how he was going to leave?

Had he been locked in?

Suddenly, an abnormal feeling made his hair stand on end!

He hadn't seen anything; in the darkness, his already poor nearsighted eyes couldn't see a thing.

It wasn't that he had heard anything either; there was no sound in the darkness.

Nor had he smelled, touched, or tasted anything...

It was an alertness hidden in his deepest subconscious; the moment it was triggered, his hair stood on end!

Attack!

His first reaction was to draw his sword, but having tumbled all the way down, his Dharma Artifact and Art Tool had been flung somewhere unknown. His hands were empty, leaving him helpless, and he had bumped his leg somewhere during the fall, leaving it aching and unable to exert force, making it difficult to move.

The crisis was imminent; he strained to lift his body and pushed his palm forward—

It was the same movement he used to push the rock every day!

These past few days, besides practicing swordplay, the thing he did most often was push the rock. He pushed it so persistently that it had almost become a reflex, and at this moment, he performed the action involuntarily.

His palm left his body, and the crisis finally pressed in.

The sound of wind!

A biting wind roared into existence as if from nowhere, already within arm's reach!

Tang Zhao's palm met the wind and immediately struck something—

A great force surged over, Tang Zhao's arm vibrated, and he involuntarily pulled it back; his body was also knocked backward by the force, and he fell to the ground again.

"Heh, nothing special! Kid, where is that movement technique you had before? You're far behind when it comes to strength!"

Following Sun Sheng's sneers, a hand grabbed him from another direction. Tang Zhao instinctively tried to block, but the other person grabbed his wrist, twisted it, pinned both his hands, and then lifted him up, choking his neck.

Speaking of close-quarters combat ability, Tang Zhao couldn't say he was experienced; he could only say he had none at all, not even the experience of street brawls from his childhood. Having lost his sword, he was easily subdued by someone closing in on him, without any resistance.

Who told him that Guan Lei hadn't taught him how to fight people yet?

Choked by a thick arm, Tang Zhao found it difficult to breathe and said, "Sun..."

That man shouted, "It is your Grandpa Sun Sheng!"

Sun Sheng was actually surprised in his heart. When he had encountered Tang Zhao and fought him before, he had been subdued by the opponent in one move. Although that was due to the sharpness of the weapon, that elegant, almost eerie movement had left a deep impression on him. That was why he had used his full strength during the ambush, fearing his power wouldn't be enough. Who would have thought that upon clashing, although this kid had some strength, it was only the result of three or five years of external training, and in close-quarters combat, he was easily handled—where was that exquisite movement from before?

He was both happy and angry, thinking: Damn it, you scared the hell out of me. So you only had that one move, and you still dared to threaten me? Let's see how I deal with you!

However, the most important thing right now was the threat above. He didn't think the other person was a pushover either, so he held Tang Zhao firmly and shouted, "Judge, I've already caught the kid!"

After a while, he heard the Judge's voice say, "You caught him, so you caught him. Why are you shouting?"

This voice was clear and steady, as if it were right beside his ear, making Sun Sheng's loud roar seem inferior by comparison.

Sun Sheng's momentum faltered slightly, and he said hurriedly, "I know you value this kid and don't treat him like a scapegoat like me; you definitely don't want him to die. Let me go, and I'll return him to you. We'll mind our own business; wouldn't that be better?"

The air stagnated for a moment, and after a while, the Judge said, "I don't want him to die, but if he really dies, there's nothing I can do. I hate being threatened; I can't break the rules for someone I'm not related to, can I?"

Sun Sheng tightened his arm and said, "Then I'll kill him." He was about to tighten it further, but remembered that the opponent couldn't make a sound, which wouldn't cause anxiety for the person outside. He relaxed his arm slightly, pressed one hand against Tang Zhao's leg, and said, "I'm going to torture him a little bit first."

As he spoke, he extended his fingers and pierced them into Tang Zhao's skin.

He was known as the "Vulture," and his specialty was the Eagle Claw Technique. His fingers were as hard as fine steel; one poke would leave a bloody hole, and with all five fingers, he immediately poked out five bloody holes.

He thought that since this kid was young, seeing some blood would naturally make him cry out, which could put some pressure on the person outside.

Who knew that Tang Zhao would grunt, his whole body tensing up, struggling incessantly, yet he didn't cry out. Sun Sheng was displeased; he didn't remove his fingers from the wounds but dragged them downward, tearing out five deep bloody gashes, and said, "Make some noise for your savior to hear."

Tang Zhao didn't answer, spat, and in the darkness, the sound of him gritting his teeth could be heard.

Sun Sheng sneered. He was from the underworld; he had plenty of ways to torture people, and he had seen plenty of tough guys. He was only holding back because of the threat above. Since this kid refused a toast only to drink a forfeit, he would have to give him a real taste of suffering.

He said unhurriedly, "Fine, you little brat, playing the tough guy? I'll treat you with the methods for tough guys. How about I pull out your intestines? Or crush your joints? I won't bully you too much; let's start with your fingers?"

Tang Zhao wasn't unafraid, nor was he overly worried about implicating the Judge above; he was just holding his breath, refusing to admit defeat. He was at that age of stubborn youth; sometimes, when a surge of spirit rose up, he would refuse to give in no matter what. Even though the pain of the wounds brought tears to his eyes, he refused to make a sound of weakness.

Sun Sheng pinched Tang Zhao's finger and was about to exert force when he heard the voice from above: "Actually, I'm curious, how did you catch him? This kid's strength isn't bad."

Sun Sheng said in surprise, "Him? Strength? He doesn't have a shred of strength. He just has a bit more force, but his martial arts are worse than a seven or eight-year-old's."

The Judge laughed out loud upon hearing this: "Is that so? So weak? Kid, did you lose your capital? Remember to find it back, or you'll be in trouble."

Tang Zhao groaned in pain. Of course, he knew what the Judge was talking about. These code words couldn't even be called code words. If he had either of those two weapons, he wouldn't be in this state...

Sun Sheng said, "Hey, what do you think? I believe you're a hero. As long as you agree, I'll return him to you as soon as I leave the manor. It won't delay your business."

The Judge said, "I think it's better this way—use your teeth."

Sun Sheng was stunned, and a sharp pain shot through his arm; it was Tang Zhao biting through his skin and flesh. He let go in pain, and Tang Zhao landed on the ground, rolled, and tumbled down a few more steps.

But that was all. Tang Zhao did not continue to flee downward.

The basement was extremely dim; even though Sun Sheng had good eyes and was already accustomed to the darkness, he could only see Tang Zhao's figure crouching on the stairs, breathing heavily, as if gasping for air.

Sun Sheng was anxious and furious, yet fearing that he might slip away and ruin his grand plan, he rushed down the steps to seize him.

At this moment, Tang Zhao flipped up and instead took the initiative to pounce toward him.

Sun Sheng could only see a silhouette and could not distinguish any techniques; he unleashed his Eagle Claw Technique, his five fingers sharp, clawing toward Tang Zhao.

His lightness skill was outstanding, his movement technique incredibly fast, and he beat Tang Zhao to it...

"Bang—"

Before he could even reach him, he took a blow head-on and was actually sent flying backward, falling onto the steps.

What was that?

This time it was Sun Sheng who was stunned; besides the heavy blow, he only felt a sharp pain in his face and his entire face covered in sticky liquid.

Blood...

He was bleeding!

Sun Sheng let out a strange cry and turned to run; the inexplicable attack filled his heart with fear, and he dared not turn back to engage in battle.

The darker it was, the more unknown it was, the more terrifying it was.

He wanted to run, but Tang Zhao would not let him go; he stepped forward and swung horizontally.

Chi—

It was the sound of a hit again; Sun Sheng stumbled and ran upward frantically.

He had been famous for his lightness skill for decades, and his mastery of movement technique was even higher than his claw technique; if he were truly running at full tilt, Tang Zhao would never be able to catch him, and even if they were maneuvering in a single room, he could ensure Tang Zhao wouldn't even touch a corner of his clothes.

But there was no space here, only a single path, and it had an end.

When he climbed to the top, he saw the gate he had personally locked tight.

Outside the gate, a Micro Light filtered in; there was an infinite way out, yet row upon row of pig-iron bars blocked everything, like a dungeon.

Just as despair took hold and he intended to turn around to fight like a trapped beast, another heavy blow landed on his back.

"Bang—"

His entire body was slapped against the gate.

No...

This was not the strength of a youth!

Regardless of whether one had practiced for three, five, or even ten years, it was impossible to train such strength!

How could he...

Bang, bang—

Tang Zhao held his breath, standing on the steps below the gate, striking out with the Wooden Sword one blow after another; his ears were filled with dull thuds, and there was no Sword Technique skill to speak of, it couldn't even be called a slash, perhaps it could be called a swing—

Sun Sheng had let out a scream at the beginning, but later there was no sound, or rather, it was drowned out by the sound of the blows.

"That's enough—"

A hand reached in from between two bars and pinched the body of the Wooden Sword.

The unstoppable Art Tool came to a halt; even though Tang Zhao did not actively stop at the first moment, it came to a complete stop in that hand.

Finally, Tang Zhao withdrew his force, the Wooden Sword stopped completely, and his gaze fixed on that hand.

That hand was glowing with a familiar Micro Light.

Qi.

Extending from that hand, outside the gate was the familiar Mask.

The Mask had no expression, and only an extremely calm voice drifted over.

"I couldn't tell, you are quite violent."

Tang Zhao was stunned; the masked person's other hand twisted open a Fire Tinder, and real firelight lit up.

The light of Qi was similar to the light of the Rune Formula in an Art Tool, a very subtle light source; it allowed Tang Zhao to see at a glance, just as he had seen his dropped Art Tool at a glance on the underground steps, but it seemed unable to illuminate the surroundings, much less provide warmth.

Therefore, when the real light shone, Tang Zhao finally saw Sun Sheng.

Sun Sheng was sprawled on the gate in a strange posture, like a bug with broken legs; half of his sharp-mouthed, monkey-cheeked face was covered in blood, with lingering terror, shock, and even despair.

Tang Zhao's heart skipped a beat.

When he was attacking just now, he actually couldn't see the other person's expression, and even the human shape was blurry; he didn't even feel like he was hitting a person, but rather a human-shaped sandbag, so he kept hitting, kept hitting, kept hitting...

But if it were in the light, seeing the blood flowing like a river, seeing that terrified and desperate face, would he still have swung his sword so frantically?

Even if he hated him for hurting him and wanted to pay him back in kind, it shouldn't have been a continuous, repeated, meaningless brutal beating.

This was not what he felt should be done to a "person."

Tang Zhao had not expected to be associated with violence, but hacking someone frantically in a dungeon was worthy of the description "momentum like a mad tiger."

Once immersed in darkness, losing the senses that helped him judge, losing the ability to discern, he was also this out of control.

"It's a good thing you found a Wooden Sword; if it were the other one, he would already be a Fragment."

"I..."

Am I violent?

"Take it."

The Judge stuffed the Fire Tinder into Tang Zhao's hand; the real flame burned in his hand, and he could feel the warmth.

All the sensations returned. Sight, smell, touch, emotions, thoughts, and his true sense of existence.

The gate loosened, and the exit opened.

The Judge first dragged the dying Sun Sheng out.

The passageway entrance suddenly became spacious; under the firelight, the Art Tool was mottled with bloodstains, witnessing the fierce battle that had just occurred.

No matter how illusory he had felt just now, everything ultimately returned to reality.

"Medicine, apply it yourself. Wounds on the legs can sometimes be fatal."

Tang Zhao took the medicine bottle tossed to him and lowered his head to apply the medicine to himself.

The spot on his leg where he had been stabbed was still bleeding incessantly, and the medicinal powder stung when applied to the wound; Tang Zhao grimaced, and as he recalled the pain and helplessness of being controlled and harmed, the unease in his heart gradually dissipated.

There was a rustling sound outside, and not knowing what the Judge was doing, he heard him say, "Move aside, I am coming down."

Tang Zhao leaned against the wall and descended a few steps; his leg injury made it difficult for him to exert force, but he could still manage to walk, and he suddenly asked, "Hm? You can come down now? Is the stone still hanging? How did you solve the mechanism?"

The Judge said, "It is fine for now. By the way, you have never killed anyone, have you?"

Tang Zhao said, "I have not."

The Judge said, "Then you are lucky; you will not need to kill anyone this time either. He actually still has a breath left; I will finish him off for you."