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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 142: Soul Devourer (Part 2)
Busho continued to walk slowly, stating, "My ancestor is Busho Zhaoyi, from Saga Prefecture. He graduated from the 7th class of the Army Officer School in 1915 and served as the commander of the Independent Defensive Infantry Battalion No. 1 in 199. In 1941, he was promoted to Colonel and became the commander of the Supplementary Unit of Infantry Regiment No. 146 in the same year. In 194, he served as the Regimental Commander of the 109th Infantry Division of the Chinese Expeditionary Force, and he died in November 194 during the Changde Campaign. He was posthumously promoted to Major General and awarded the Third-Class Golden Phoenix Medal."
Busho's voice was low, but his stiff tone felt extremely uncomfortable in the dead silence of the environment.
Damn it, I initially kept quiet but thought to myself that many Japanese generals had died in China. For instance, that famous general Abe Nobuhide also met his end here, right? But why was this guy telling me all this for no reason?
He died in November 194? That meant it was just past the sixtieth anniversary of his grandfather's death. No wonder he came here to invest; perhaps he intended to use this investment as a guise to pay tribute or search for something.
As soon as Busho finished a segment and paused, I maliciously interjected, "Mr. Busho, how old are you? Your family sure got married late!"
Busho replied emotionlessly, "My father was a posthumous child. After the defeat, he endured hardships and didn't marry until nearly forty years old when I was born."
"Oh, you should control that; your lineage has been around for over a hundred years—enough already!" I began to ramble on.
Busho straightened his posture for a moment before continuing forward, his voice carrying a hint of coldness. "Do you only know how to engage in verbal sparring? Is this how all of you from the National Army behave?"
"Busho! Sixty years ago, my ancestors were able to take down your ancestors and leave them on this land. Sixty years later, I wouldn't mind doing it again," I said, feeling a surge of anger. Even if it came to blows, I wouldn't back down.
Busho kept walking. "Don't you want to hear what you wish to know?"
I shut my mouth and silently followed him.
"My ancestor possessed a royal war blade called Bloodless Slash. Unfortunately, it was lost in that war. My purpose here is to retrieve this treasured sword that belongs to our family!"
By this point in his story, I had cursed every woman in his family countless times! It turned out that what was inside that cylindrical container was indeed that Japanese sword. This was truly bad news; I had become completely unarmed! This guy clearly intended to use that sword against me! Gritting my teeth, I continued walking while my mind raced to come up with a solution!
As I listened to him, memories of movies I had seen flooded back—scenes where the protagonist secretly made a call, waiting for the line to connect while someone on the other end recorded the situation and dispatched help.
I discreetly slipped my hand into my pocket, trying to dial Ah Huang's number by feel. Soon, I realized this was a challenging task; the television portrayals were far too unrealistic. In real life, it was impossible.
My old Sticky Duck had a screen lock feature that required a long press to unlock. Unable to see the screen, I had no idea how far along I was. Despairing, I pressed repeatedly, mechanically moving forward. Oh, how I longed for my Refined Steel Rod! If only I had it in hand, Bloodless Slash would be nothing but a fleeting thought!
"I came to China because I've discovered clues about Bloodless Slash, which were lost here. That's why I've spared no expense, seeking help everywhere to reclaim our family treasure."
Despite the extreme disadvantage, I couldn't help but interject, "How much did you pay for that broken blade? The person who sold it to you must have asked for a pretty penny, right?"
He didn't answer my question but slowed his pace. "How do you know about Soul Retrieval Technique?!"
"Come on, it's not a big deal; who doesn't know about it?" I began to ramble, recalling that note. "Soul Retrieval Technique originated from China; you haven't grasped its true essence."
He suddenly stopped and turned around. "Do you have the complete version of Soul Retrieval Technique?!"
"What complete version?" I was momentarily taken aback and replied casually.
"Baka! You liar!" What the hell! I'd revealed too much!
He glanced around; we had reached a corner with no parking spots and no one in sight—a perfect breeding ground for crime. There were lights nearby, but they weren't very bright, offering low visibility.
I watched as he slowly began to untie the cylinder strapped to his body. "You managed to break my Shikigami; you must be quite a character. Unfortunately, your time is short. May I ask how you wish to be addressed? Bloodless Slash hasn't tasted blood in sixty years; you will be its first sacrifice!"
My heart raced at the thought of an impending fight. I couldn't lose my composure or let him look down on me. Forcing myself to stay calm, I replied slowly, "People's Liberation Army Lieutenant Wang Wei."
"Yoshi! The blood of the National Army, how fortunate! Hahaha!" Bu Shang seemed to have gone a bit mad. He slowly pulled out a Japanese sword from the cylindrical case, his eyes filled with fervor and obsession.
This was a typical Japanese katana, its blade elegantly curved and beautifully shaped. The black scabbard was made of an unknown material, appearing thick and imposing.
Bu Shang casually tossed the cylindrical case to the ground, holding the sword horizontally in front of his chest with one hand while gently caressing it with the other, as if he were tenderly stroking a lover's body. However, this made me feel disgusted. At that moment, I couldn't help but wonder if Bu Shang was some kind of pervert—obsessed with a sword?
With his left hand gripping the scabbard, Bu Shang slowly moved his right hand to the hilt and swiftly drew out half of the blade!
"Yoshi!" he muttered to himself. "Godslayer! Only second to Seven Cuts! That divine existence of Seven Cuts is said to have only two blades—one is Bizen Masamune, and the other..."
I impatiently interrupted him. "I'm not here to listen to your bragging. I'll ask you one more time: did you cause trouble for those girls?"
Bu Shang still didn't answer. Instead, he placed the scabbard on the ground, gripped the hilt with both hands, and feigned a few slashes before slowly saying, "Wang Sang! Do you know what my ancestors used to test its power?"
What was this Godslayer and Seven Cuts nonsense? I was confused. At that moment, I spotted a fire extinguisher on the wall not far to my right. Yes, I could grab it and smash it over his head! I secretly planned as I began moving in that direction.
Bu Shang slowly pointed the sword at me and said, "That was tested using your Chinese bodies, hahaha!"
I could no longer hold back. "Damn your Japanese!" I shouted as I turned and sprinted toward the fire extinguisher.
"Hey!" I heard Bu Shang exhale behind me, knowing he was about to strike! I quickly lunged forward, diving toward the fire extinguisher, pressing my body against the wall. With all my strength, I yanked at it—but it wouldn't budge!!!
Are you kidding me!? Sweat poured down my face as I had no time to think. Using every ounce of strength I had left, I pulled again. With a crack, the upper half broke free while the lower part remained stuck!
I glanced back and saw Bu Shang raising his sword high before swinging it down toward me!
Without thinking too much, I pulled the Fire Extinguisher, crouched down, and dove under it. With a clang, the knife on the cloth struck the Fire Extinguisher! Sparks flew everywhere!
The Fire Extinguisher didn’t break or shatter; it seemed that the Japanese Sword wasn’t as magical as it appeared!
Seizing the moment, I yanked again, and with a snap, the Fire Extinguisher broke free from my grip. I held both ends up, ready to create some distance when suddenly I noticed a horizontal slash coming from the cloth. I quickly turned the Fire Extinguisher upside down to block it, and with another clang, I managed to deflect it.
Before I could react, the cloth drew its knife and lunged at me. There was no way to block this one; even the round Fire Extinguisher wouldn’t suffice. With a wall behind me, I had no choice but to roll sideways, creating some distance and gaining more space!
One roll, then another. As I stood up with the Fire Extinguisher in hand, I felt utterly humiliated!
Watching the cloth charge at me again while holding the Fire Extinguisher upside down, an idea struck me. I gripped the Fire Extinguisher tightly, skillfully opened the nozzle, and aimed it at my opponent, hoping it would still work.
The cloth raised its knife and swiftly approached me. Without hesitation, I pressed down on the handle. “Puff----!!!!” A cloud of dry powder enveloped the cloth. “Ah!!! Baka!” it screamed wildly.
“Baka your mother!” I shouted back as I swung the bottle and smashed it toward my opponent before turning and running away.
(To be continued; more exciting content tomorrow!)
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