Chapter 3336

Those warriors, when they launched their charge, completely regarded Ye Chen and the others as fish on a chopping block, so when everyone swung their blades and charged forward, those at the front only thought about being the first to slay an enemy and claim the top merit, while those behind only thought about how to slash a few more times to display their bravery.

But they never expected that the few people they saw as having only a dead end would suddenly erupt with terrifying combat power—just a lift of their hands, and they directly took down eight people!

Seeing these people each stare wide-eyed, dead without closing their eyes, and with a plastic-cased cosmetic stuck in their foreheads, the crowd was even more terrified, their scalps going numb.

They had seen masters who killed with hidden weapons, and ninjas were the best among them.

Many people were injured by using sleeve-hidden hand swords, taking advantage of the enemy's unpreparedness to fling them out and kill the enemy.

But in their understanding, ninjas threw two hand swords with both hands, trying to take a life, and at their most arrogant, only one sword in each hand, trying to take two lives—never had they heard of a ninja who could hold eight hand swords in both hands and kill eight enemies at once.

If this weren't something they saw with their own eyes but merely heard about, it would be laughable—after all, even Japanese films that promote ninjas wouldn't dare portray them as this perverse.

Moreover, what Ye Chen used wasn't even a poisoned hand sword, but an ordinary cosmetic—this thing, when slammed hard into someone's head, could at most raise a bump, which would already be good, but in Ye Chen's hands, it could actually pierce a human skull!

These warriors had physical qualities and reaction speeds far beyond ordinary people, and they used the finest samurai swords—since childhood, they had swung their blades hundreds of times daily; most of them, as long as they gripped a samurai sword, could even consecutively chop through multiple tree trunks as thick as a bowl, and their sword-drawing speed was as fast as lightning—truly, in cold-weapon melees among crowds, they almost overwhelmingly dominated.

Yet even so, facing Ye Chen, who could kill with a plastic cosmetic and do it in one strike, their previous worldview was completely overturned!

Just moments ago, those brothers were leaping about, charging at the front—now they lay on the ground as corpses, which filled the warriors with extreme dread; they stared at each other across Ye Chen and the others, momentarily unsure whether to charge forward or flee.

At this moment, Ye Chen slowly raised his hands, with eight differently colored cosmetics pinched between his fingers, he pointed them at the warriors on both sides and said in a cold voice: "Within three seconds, whoever doesn't kneel down will meet the same fate as these people!"

After saying this, Ye Chen gave them no time to react and immediately began counting: "One, two..."

The warriors on both sides were now like startled birds—upon hearing Ye Chen was about to reach three, they almost instinctively wanted to turn and flee.

Several at the rear were the first to turn and try to escape, others quickly followed suit, but immediately after, the event that had just given them immense psychological trauma replayed—before they could take a single step, they saw the few at the very front of the fleeing group suddenly slip on garlic, crash to the ground with a boom, unable to move; upon closer look, each of their backs of the head had a tube-like cosmetic stuck in it!

One step forward meant death, one step back still meant death—these warriors were trapped between corpses ahead and behind, not knowing what to do; some were so frightened their legs went soft, and they fell to their knees with a thud.

Immediately after, the sound of knees hitting the ground rose and fell—originally arrogant and unruly warriors, in an instant, over half of them knelt down.

At this moment, a warrior, straining his voice, shouted: "Everyone, don't be afraid! He only has a few hidden weapons in his hand—we still have twenty people! Kneel and surrender, and we'll still die in the end, so better we all charge together and take him down! Then take down the others too—this way, even if we die, we can still get two settlement fees! Enough to guarantee our wives, children, and elders never worry about food and clothing for generations!"

The crowd was instantly inspired.

Although death is terrifying, for these desperate outlaws, it had long been factored into their worst-case plans.

Now, as long as they give it one more push, they could secure wealth for their families before death—wealth they could never earn in several lifetimes; anyway, sooner or later, death is inevitable—giving it one's all, to provide descendants with fine clothes and food, is also worthwhile!

Thus, the warriors' emotions and fighting spirit were clearly raised again.

Seeing everyone clearly stirred up, that person immediately shouted again: "Gentlemen! A man's destiny is originally to be an ox and horse for his wife and children all his life! Now we only need to do well this once, and we can let them live without worry for the second half of their lives—what do we have to fear... ah! My eyes!"

This person, while passionately rallying the crowd's fervor, suddenly felt a sharp pain in both eyes, his vision went black, all sight vanished instantly, and when he instinctively reached up to touch his eyes, he suddenly discovered that two plastic cylindrical objects were actually stuck in his eye sockets!

The others had originally been waiting for him to make a final decision before leading everyone in a last charge, but they never expected his call to suddenly turn into a scream—when they looked at him again, they found two cosmetics stuck in his eyes, his face covered in blood and dark fluid from burst eyeballs, combined with his agonized and terrified howls, making him look horrifically terrifying!

Such a bloody scene even made Mitsui Yoshitaka somewhat unable to bear it, letting out a few dry heaves.

Meanwhile, Mitsui Kokimi instinctively turned her gaze elsewhere, not daring to look again.

As for Tawana, although she had initially been afraid and didn't dare look at the corpses, now deep in her heart, she suddenly felt this bloody scene also carried a strange charm, so she couldn't help but sneakily observe the corpses with her peripheral vision, as well as the warrior who had been blinded in both eyes.

As for those other warriors, the passion they had just been stirred up with instantly turned icy cold.

They then realized that, with Ye Chen's strength, even if they all rushed forward in a swarm, they could not possibly win.

Moreover, whoever charged forward first would die first.

Just as they were completely at a loss, Ye Chen spoke again: "My patience has its limits—kneel on your knees or smash your skull to the ground, you choose!"

As soon as he said this, the originally standing warriors instantly felt their legs go soft, their knees buckled and slammed into the ground, and in an instant, they all knelt down in a mass.

The most ironic part was that the warrior who had just been passionately rallying everyone to charge together, even though his eyes were blown out, at this moment still knew the times and knelt down.

Besides the sound of knees hitting the ground, there were also samurai swords continuously being thrown to the ground, clinking as they struck the ground or even other samurai swords.

Mitsui Kokimi was completely dumbfounded—she had already prepared herself to die, but never expected the situation to be completely reversed by Ye Chen like this.

And Tawana's brain had already gone mad—since Ye Chen threw out the how manyth eyeliner pencil, she had been looking at him with the gaze of a fangirl.

Even though her actual age is slightly older than Ye Chen's.

She, who became famous young, finally realized at this moment why fans are so frenzied over their idols.

Such creatures as humans—when their hearts have no idol, even seeing the Son of Heaven himself, they wouldn't dare to lower their heads; you are the Son of Heaven again—so what? The Laozu Sect from over two thousand years ago in Dazexiang, who rose up with poles, already said: 'Do nobles and ministers have a kind? Does the Son of Heaven have a kind?'

But once a person has an idol, especially a frenzied one, they truly want to drop to one knee at a moment's notice and loudly sing 'Conquer' to them—even if singing until their throat is shredded, they wouldn't stay silent.

Some fans can even save a year's wages, cross half the globe, and in a stadium of tens of thousands, look at them from three to five hundred meters away—still able to move themselves to tears, feeling happy enough to die right there.

Put simply, once one's spirit and character are conquered, that deep inner feeling of desperately wanting to submit cannot be stopped...