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墨書 Inktalez
Under the watchful eyes of his subordinates, he quickly sat back down, thinking to himself that this kid's methods were reminiscent of his own youth—quick to resort to violence at the slightest disagreement. It was damn invigorating.
The room was soon filled with his wails, but the surrounding subordinates showed no reaction; they had witnessed far more turmoil than I ever had.
As the steel pipe swung through the air, blood splattered onto my face from his own wounds. I flicked the pipe and glared at him fiercely, like a vengeful spirit come to claim a life!
The Dragon Kingdom was no longer the easy target it once was; did he really think I would kneel? Even his father and grandfather would regret their past misdeeds upon seeing the strength of our Dragon Kingdom today.
Sometimes, it doesn’t take a grand speech to inspire; all it requires is a piece of history! Especially one that resonates with the hatred deep within every person from the Dragon Kingdom.
Old Zhao’s subordinates were stirred by my words, their eyes filled with murderous intent as they looked at the group of Wokou. They were people from the Underworld, loyal to Zhao Changsheng, the Black Boss, but let’s not forget—they were all from the Dragon Kingdom!
Old Zhao could never have imagined that just a few words from me would ignite the deep-seated hatred buried in their bloodlines. If they had come here prepared to die, now those Wokou Nation members felt a creeping fear as they saw the fire in my subordinates' eyes.
Yamamoto Itada, you have a moment to consider...
Time passed, and Yamamoto Itada still maintained his defiant spirit in the face of death. I merely snorted in response; he was nothing but a dog.
One of Old Zhao's subordinates stepped forward with a knife in hand, ready to finish him off. After hearing my words, he felt it was time to act.
"Wait! What kind of punishment is this? You haven’t even learned our country’s traditions properly!" I exclaimed.
The knife-wielding subordinate looked confused. "This is what your father arranged; what does it have to do with us?"
"What do you think we should do, Xiao Zhao?"
Some in the room expressed their dissatisfaction; it was right for them to be upset at being criticized by a mere kid.
"Do we have needles?"
"Yes, I'll go get them!" One subordinate dashed out.
I then turned to the knife-wielding subordinate and instructed him to fetch some cloth to blindfold the remaining people.
He was already puzzled by my actions, and now he looked completely bewildered at Old Zhao, who also seemed eager to know what I was planning. Following my lead seemed like his only option.
Soon enough, needles and cloth were ready. After they blindfolded the others, I quietly pulled two people aside and whispered, "When I say go, you two stick the needles into his fingernails!"
"Xiao Zhao, we haven't read many books. What does this mean?"
I simply smiled, my grin now appearing unsettling to them. Soon enough, they would understand why.
As I stepped through the door, I took action against them.
Then, Yamamoto Itada's horrifying voice echoed throughout the room.
At that moment, everyone present felt a tightening in their chests, instinctively covering their hands, fearing that the needle might prick them.
Old Zhao mimicked their actions, his perception of me having dramatically shifted. He could hardly believe that just a moment ago, he was watching this scene with disgust, and now he was confronted with a devil that made his heart race!
Old Zhao's lips trembled as he uttered those words, "The fingers are connected to the heart!"
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