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墨書 Inktalez
As the crowd was embroiled in a heated argument over the few bottles of "mysterious liquid," the door of the teahouse was suddenly kicked open with a loud bang, echoing through the room. Everyone turned in shock to see a large group of soldiers clad in Yang Chuan armor storming in, their faces stern, holding long spears or Energy Guns, exuding an oppressive aura.
At the forefront, a serious-looking officer scanned the teahouse with a piercing gaze. He raised his saber high and bellowed, "Everyone, stop what you're doing immediately! Silence!"
The bustling teahouse fell into an instant hush; all movement ceased. The warriors who had been scrambling for the bottles quickly tucked their hands behind their backs and lowered their heads, pretending nothing had happened. The ronin silently returned the few bottles to his chest, wearing an expression of calm indifference, as if the earlier commotion had nothing to do with him.
The officer coldly surveyed the surroundings, his eyes sharp enough to send chills down spines. He then waved his hand, and a squad of soldiers swiftly spread out, blocking all exits and sealing off any escape routes.
Amidst this oppressive atmosphere, a radio in the corner continued to play news tirelessly, its faint voice creating a bizarre contrast against the silence—
"…According to reports from the front lines, Wu Jing has achieved a decisive victory at Longguan Pass, with heavy losses for Yang Chuan…"
The crowd in the teahouse stirred slightly; some couldn't help but raise their heads, their eyes filled with surprise and unease.
The radio continued broadcasting: "Currently, Eitan Pass, previously under Yang Chuan control, is in chaos. Wu Jing's forces are advancing rapidly into the area…"
The officer's expression darkened further as he tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, shadows flickering in his gaze.
"…Furthermore, due to the turmoil at Eitan Pass, there is a shortage of supplies and water sources; market prices are expected to rise significantly…"
This statement seemed to drop a stone into the teahouse, stirring up hidden currents. Some whispered among themselves, others showed signs of anxiety, while many chose to remain silent, fearing they might attract the officer's attention.
"Enough! Turn off that damn radio!" The officer suddenly roared, his voice booming like thunder and sending shivers through everyone present.
A soldier rushed forward and abruptly turned off the radio, silencing the intermittent broadcast. The teahouse fell into a suffocating silence once again.
The officer's gaze was sharp as he scanned each person in the teahouse. He slightly raised his chin, his eyes cold and filled with an undeniable sense of pressure. Taking a deep breath, he spoke in a low yet resonant voice, "We are here to find a ronin."
As soon as he finished speaking, the atmosphere in the teahouse froze, as if even the air had become heavy. The once lively group of ronin now hung their heads, afraid to meet the officer's gaze. Their fingers tightened around the hilts of their swords, yet they dared not move, feeling as if they were nailed to the spot.
The officer snorted coldly and continued, "This person is highly skilled; he is a true warrior. And Yang Chuan's current situation is indeed dire." His voice paused slightly, carrying a hint of indignation as his eyes roamed over the crowd, seemingly observing each person's expression.
"But!" he suddenly raised his voice, booming like thunder, causing the cups and bowls in the teahouse to tremble. "It is precisely at such times that we need truly loyal warriors to step forward and serve our country!"
His tone was serious and impassioned, imbued with an irresistible force. "Those so-called ronin, no matter where they flee to avoid their responsibilities, cannot hide their inner cowardice! True loyalty should return to Yang Chuan, participating in one holy battle after another, fighting for our nation until the last drop of blood!"
The officer's words struck like heavy drums against everyone's hearts. The previously boisterous ronin now seemed frozen in place, heads bowed and eyes flickering, none daring to respond. Their shoulders trembled slightly, hands gripping their swords breaking out in cold sweat, as if every word from the officer bore an invisible weight that made it hard for them to breathe.
The corner of the officer's mouth curled into a cold smile, tinged with mockery. "What’s this? Weren’t you just extolling the spirit of the warrior? Why is it now that you don’t dare to speak?"
Silence enveloped the teahouse; only a flickering oil lamp in the corner made faint sounds as its flame danced. The ronin kept their heads down, seemingly afraid even to breathe too loudly for fear of becoming the focus of the officer's gaze.
In a corner sat Bing Lie, quietly observing everything with a stern expression. His fingers lightly tapped on the table as if indifferent to this standoff. His teacup was empty, but he showed no intention of refilling it; instead, he watched the officer with an enigmatic smile playing at his lips.
The officer's cold laughter echoed in the teahouse as he pulled out a small Projection Disk from his waist. With a flick of his wrist, the metal disk arced through the air and landed with a thud on the wooden floor. The surface instantly illuminated with blue light, projecting a tall figure into the air—someone wearing a wide-brimmed hat, standing tall with a sharp long knife at his waist; it was none other than Leng Lie.
"Look closely!" The officer's voice rang out with authority as he pointed at Leng Lie in the projection, his tone laced with provocation. "This man is our Yangchuan First Legion commander, Feng Huo Liao, who is actively searching for him! Whoever can provide clues will receive Five Thousand Yuan!
He emphasized his words, as if igniting the excitement of the crowd with money: "Five Thousand Yuan! Enough for you wastrels to squander a lifetime!"
As soon as he spoke, the atmosphere in the teahouse shifted dramatically. The previously quiet and somewhat oppressive space suddenly buzzed with low murmurs of awe and speculation.
"Five Thousand Yuan? That's an astronomical figure!"
"What is this Leng Lie worth to have such a high bounty?"
"Why is the Yang Chuan Legion looking for him, and why such a steep price?"
All eyes turned to the projection of Leng Lie, filled with curiosity and doubt. A few people sitting near him began to lean in, trying to catch a glimpse of this mysterious rogue's true face. Their gazes were filled with skepticism, eager to confirm whether the figure beneath the hat resembled the one on the screen.
"This brother looks a bit like him..." someone whispered to their companion, their tone tentative.
"Really? No way, what a coincidence!" another person raised an eyebrow but couldn't help sneaking glances at Leng Lie, their eyes filled with speculation and hesitation.
Leng Lie remained quietly seated in the corner, utterly still. His hand rested lightly beside his teacup, seemingly indifferent to the commotion around him. The shadow of his hat obscured his face, revealing only a hint of a cold smile at the corners of his lips. His demeanor was calm and unruffled, like an immovable iceberg, neither denying nor confirming anything as those doubtful gazes swirled around him.
Seeing the crowd's reaction, the officer's smirk deepened. He reached out and turned off the Projection Disk, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. His gaze swept over every face in the teahouse, his voice cold and menacing: "Think carefully! This is a chance to change your fate! Five Thousand Yuan is enough for you to live a stable life. Don’t tell me no one here has seen this person!"
His voice was like a chilling winter wind, causing everyone in the teahouse to shiver involuntarily. The few people sitting near Leng Lie exchanged glances, seemingly waiting for someone to speak first, yet all chose to remain silent. The tension in the air was palpable, like a string ready to snap at any moment.
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