"Stop!"
Ren cut him off sharply, his cold eyes locking onto Mondo, whose face had gone tense. "Since you're my friend, then do me a favor first."
"Wh-what favor? Haha, Keya, you seem different today."
The unexpected tone left Mondo momentarily off-balance. He stammered, "You don't think I'm with them, do you? Come on, man, I owe the Godfather a debt too! I'm in the same boat as you."
"No. Not that."Ren pointed toward the staircase, his voice cold and firm. "I want you to go down first."
"What?"Mondo's smile froze on his face.
"As my good friend," Ren pressed on the words deliberately, "surely you wouldn't refuse to take a few steps downstairs for me?"
After five or six years of scraping by in society, Ren had lost the naïve innocence of his student days. What remained was a calm, calculating mind.
What he'd just heard through the floorboards hadn't been his imagination—and since he wasn't truly Keya, there was no reason to deceive himself. Among those voices downstairs, one had been particularly sycophantic—fawning and flattering the so-called Godfather.
And that voice had sounded exactly like Mondo's.
"The Godfather, uh—what I mean is maybe we should go meet him together?" Mondo said nervously, realizing something was wrong and trying to change the subject. "Keya, you know who he is, right?"
"I said—go down."
Ren picked up the large machete from the floor, his sharp gaze gleaming like a blade.
"A-alright, don't get worked up. I'll go, I'll go."
Mondo's breathing quickened. The friend in front of him suddenly felt like a stranger.
Damn it, what's wrong with him?!
He couldn't have just had a breakdown and turned into someone else overnight… right?
Tap—tap—tap—
The sound of footsteps echoed as Mondo hesitated backward toward the corner.
"Hurry up!"
Ren raised the machete, adopting the threatening posture of a local thug.
"Alright, I'm going! Godfather, I'm coming down!"
Mondo gritted his teeth and shouted as he descended the stairs, trying to reassure himself.
It's fine. I'm just going downstairs.
After this, the Godfather will probably treat me as… well, his loyal dog.
Bang!
A flash of fire erupted—Mondo stumbled mid-step and tumbled violently down the staircase.
Ren froze instantly, his breath caught.
As expected!
He'd known the noise upstairs couldn't have escaped the notice of those below. If he could hear them, then they could hear him.
But to open fire so decisively—were they afraid he'd use Mondo as a shield to rush them?
The Godfather might not know exactly what happened, but he knows his man is down. That leaves at least one shooter… damn it! I forgot to ask Mondo how many there were!
Ren clenched his fist as thoughts raced through his mind.
His "Indestructible Vajra Body" might withstand blades, but could it endure musket fire?
Firearms had far greater penetration than cold steel.
Still, that was only speculation—he didn't yet know the limits of this power.
Know yourself and know your enemy, and you'll never lose a battle.Ren began the "know yourself" part immediately.
Dimensional Roulette, show me the stats for Indestructible Vajra Body!
A light screen appeared before him.
[Indestructible Vajra Body – Level 3]
Origin:Scissor Seven
Effect: When activated, a golden aura covers the body, greatly enhancing defense against blades and weapons.
Consumption:Qi
Trait:Qi (Strength +3, Constitution +2)
PS1:Swords? Spears? No weapon compares to your body. You're a walking tank from the ancient battlefield—invincible against blades and arrows! What? You want to challenge an AK-47? Hey, someone book him the finest crematorium—put it on my tab!
PS2:Minor downside: since this ability was granted rather than cultivated, it cannot be improved further.
Ren instinctively glanced at his status panel—there were indeed some changes.
[Name]: Ren
[Age]: 18
[Race]: Human
[Strength]: G++ / (G-)
[Agility]: H-
[Constitution]: G+ / (G-)
[Luck]: I- ( ?+ )
[Charm]: E
[Trait]: Qi
There was improvement, though not much.
Fine. Rushing head-on was out of the question.
Ren focused on the PS note—comparing flintlocks to AK-47s.
Flintlocks were nowhere near modern firearms in power, but they still counted as guns.
"Invulnerable to blades" didn't mean "bulletproof." And since he didn't know how many enemies remained—or how many guns—they only left him one option.
Ren turned and stomped toward the bedroom.
He yanked open the drawer where he kept his cash.
The remaining sixty thousand Beli were shoved into his chest pocket before he hurled himself at the window.
Crash!
The golden figure burst through the glass, twisting midair before landing perfectly.
A decade's worth of "Indestructible Vajra Body" instinctively granted such acrobatic precision—that was how Ren had managed to take down the goons earlier.
Rolling to his feet, he sprinted without looking back.
Of the Thirty-Six Stratagems, retreat is the best!
Behind him, a dark gun barrel poked out through the broken window and fired, the shot sparking harmlessly in the air.
The Godfather, gripping his smoking pistol, cursed viciously. "Bastard! Coward! Come back and fight me one-on-one if you dare!"
But the "shadowed figure" was already gone around the corner.
"Don't you dare run!"
Nezuro roared furiously as he charged out.
He'd lost four men trying to collect a simple debt from a weakling—and now the target had escaped?
How could he keep his underworld reputation like this?!
Without hesitation, Nezuro followed the footprints around the corner—
Only for a blinding golden light to flare from the darkness. A golden hand shot out, its owner's grim face illuminated.
"So it's just you, huh?"
Ren's expression twisted with rage as he grabbed the barrel of Nezuro's gun and twisted it aside, his other hand curling into a fist that slammed straight into Nezuro's nose.
Pain exploded through Nezuro's face; tears and snot flew as he staggered back, cursing, "Keya, you're dead! I'll flay you alive!"
But Ren pressed forward relentlessly, one glowing hand gripping the gun, the other clamping around Nezuro's throat.
Up close and deadly—murder filled the air.
Nezuro's pupils shrank; the aura of a mob boss shattered. He yanked out a dagger, voice trembling, "You—you wouldn't dare kill me! I'm Captain Nezumi's nephew! A Marine's kin! If you kneel now, I might—"
Rip!
The golden fingers suddenly gleamed brighter, stabbing into Nezuro's throat—clamping down on his trachea with brutal force.
With a single wrenching motion, Ren tore it free.
A spray of blood gushed forth.
"G-guh…"
Nezuro's eyes bulged. The dagger slipped from his fingers as he clutched his neck, blood-froth bubbling between his fingers.
He stared at "Keya," seeing only a pair of bloodshot eyes blazing with fury.
Why?
Why would the sheep dare strike back at the hound?
His uncle always said the weak existed to serve the strong—that being exploited was their honor.
So why… why did "Keya" dare kill him?
His chest soaked red, Nezuro's darkening vision filled with the faces of those he'd once tormented—the desperate mother who hanged herself after her baby was taken;the man dissected for "parts";and finally, his own grandfather, who had once warned him not to go too far.
What had he said again? Oh, right—
"When an honest man removes his mask and takes up arms, you don't even deserve to beg for mercy."
But his uncle had only laughed at that.
The weak are weak because they lack the courage to resist.
Uncle… you lied to me…
Darkness swallowed Nezuro completely.
Ren's cold voice echoed in the alley:"What's there to be afraid of? Without Captain Nezumi's protection, you're nothing."
There was no reply. Nezuro was already gone.
Tearing out the trachea had shredded his artery—he'd bled out in seconds.
Ren stood there, holding the bloody organ, staring at the corpse.
No panic, no shock—just trembling legs.
His heart stirred with something… but it wasn't regret.
Scum like this didn't deserve to live. Alive, they polluted the air; dead, they polluted the soil.
"Out of Qi already?"
Ren tucked the flintlock pistol into his waistband and examined his hand.
The golden glow was gone. No matter how he tried, the Indestructible Vajra Body wouldn't activate again.
It must've been drained dry—he'd used the last of his Qi to crush Nezuro's throat.
Ten years of cultivation, and this is it? Driver, you're pathetic—short and useless!
Ren flipped his middle finger toward the sky, muttering, "Hope you can see my 'friendly gesture,' old man."
What?He wasn't allowed to complain after risking his life for this scrap of power?
If they had a problem with that, they could come arrest him across dimensions!
His chaotic thoughts soon ebbed away. Regaining his composure, Ren dragged Nezuro's corpse toward his general store.
The night was filled with gunfire—some Marines might come to investigate.
In any other town, the alarms would already be blaring.
Fortunately—or unfortunately—this was the Sixteenth Marine Branch, a place where money ruled all.
The Marines here never moved without profit.
That slow response time was his only blessing.
One thing was certain—Ren couldn't leave the body lying here.
(End of Chapter)