59: Soul Reaping (Part II)

As soon as Yi Fan finished speaking, his body shot forward, and with a swing of his blade, he felled one man. Advancing further, he was blocked by two lean men whose cold eyes betrayed no emotion. In their hands gleamed nine-clawed hooks of refined iron, flashing with icy brilliance.

“Fei Dong, Leng Yi, you two, take him down for the Third Master. If he’s alive, skin him; if he’s dead, feed him to the dogs,” the man in brocade commanded, stepping back with a chilling tone.

These two were not weak; in the martial world, they were considered second-rate experts. Working together, their strength was formidable. After several exchanges, Yi Fan found no advantage. He forced them back with a few swift strikes, refusing to waste time in entanglement. With a sweep of his palm, he unleashed two “Palm Thunder” bolts; thunder descended from nowhere, catching the two off guard. In a single booming instant, they were reduced to charcoal, scattered upon the earth.

“Witchcraft! That Taoist knows witchcraft!” someone shouted. The advancing men froze in their tracks, collectively retreating.

“Brothers, don’t be afraid! We have the numbers. No matter what spells he knows, just rush him—hack him to death with our blades!” cried the brocade-clad man, now far from the fray, rallying those hesitant to advance.

The men exchanged uncertain glances, wavering. Yi Fan merely sneered. He struck again; thunder crashed down, and several more were scorched into lifeless husks.

The old aunt, petrified, let out a piercing scream, collapsing onto the ground in terror, soiling herself. The shock jolted the others from their stupor; chaos erupted as they tossed their weapons aside and fled.

“Trying to escape?” Yi Fan sneered. With a single step, he appeared beside the brocade-clad man who was stooped, ready to flee. His sharp blade pressed against the man’s neck.

Before Yi Fan could speak, the man dropped to his knees. “Master, spare me! I was blind to your greatness. Hit me as you wish, so long as you vent your anger.”

Yi Fan was speechless at the sudden shift—so bold moments ago, now utterly cowed. “You prey on innocents, disrupt the lives of the people. You deserve death.”

“Master, Taoist, Immortal, please—don’t! I was forced to capture people; it was the order of our leader. And it’s not just me. Many others are doing the same,” the brocade man pleaded, desperate to bow but afraid the blade would slice his neck, trembling with fear.

Yi Fan furrowed his brow. “Your leader gave the order?”

The brocade man nodded cautiously. “Yes, that’s right—an order from the leader. I overheard it was connected to the recent disappearances of villagers, but I don’t know the details.”

Connected to the disappearances? Yi Fan was startled. He glanced at Daoist Zhao, who also looked shocked.

The missing villagers were said to be victims of demons and monsters—how was this tied to a mundane gang? Clearly, something was amiss.

Without speaking, the two exchanged a look. Yi Fan cleared his throat. “We came here to investigate the recent disappearances. Since you say your leader gave the order and it’s tied to the missing people, I’ll spare your life for now. If you help us uncover the truth, you’ll be set free.”

The brocade man was overjoyed. “Thank you, Taoist! You are truly merciful. If I survive this, I’ll worship your longevity plaque at home.”

Yi Fan ignored him, discarded his blade, and went to the old woman. Seeing her injuries were superficial, he was relieved; the boy, however, was gravely hurt.

He gently examined the boy’s body—several ribs were indeed broken. Yi Fan shot the brocade man a cold glare, sending chills down his spine; he quickly lowered his head.

“Taoist, how are my grandmother and child?” the young woman asked, crawling over in distress.

Yi Fan glanced at her. “The child is not in immediate danger, but he must rest for several months before he can walk again. As for your grandmother, it’s just minor wounds and shock—nothing serious.”

The young woman wept, gently embracing the unconscious boy, unable to speak.

Yi Fan sighed. “You are safe for now, but it’s best not to linger here. Leave Guobei County as soon as possible. Otherwise, if the Wind and Fire Gang comes searching again, your lives will be in grave danger.”

Daoist Zhao had said it: they could save them for a moment, but not for a lifetime. They would eventually leave, and when the gang returned, how could a mother and her child resist such wolves and tigers?

Even if they eliminated the Wind and Fire Gang, other factions in Guobei County would remain—some allied with the gang, perhaps seeking revenge.

The young woman raised her head, lost and forlorn. “In these troubled times, where can the three of us go?”

Yi Fan was at a loss. If surviving in Guobei County was hard, leaving it would be even harder.

“Thank you for saving us, Taoist. I have nothing to repay you. In the next life, I’ll be your beast of burden to repay your kindness.” The young woman knelt, bowing several times, then helped the old woman back to their dilapidated shack.

Daoist Zhao came over, flicking his horsetail whisk and sighing. “When will these troubled times ever end?”

He withdrew a purse from his sleeve, took out a few pieces of silver, wrapped them in a cloth bag, and placed it discreetly on the threshold of the shack. Turning to Yi Fan, he said, “This is all we can do. The rest depends on their fate.”

Yi Fan nodded, glancing at the silver bag. He knew giving too much could bring misfortune; so he thought no more, and kicked the brocade man. “Let’s go. Take us to meet your leader. I want to see what kind of person he really is.”

The brocade man hesitated, but seeing the cold glint in Yi Fan’s eyes, shivered and dared not protest. He scrambled up and led the way.

It was night, and few people were on the streets; any figures moved furtively. From the houses on either side, wretched screams occasionally echoed, chilling the heart.

Though the moon shone in the sky, it could not illuminate all the darkness. After stumbling many times, they finally arrived outside a courtyard. Before they could approach, several men hidden in the shadows blocked their path.

“Stop! Who goes there?”

“Are you blind? Look who I am!” the brocade man straightened his back and barked. At his words, the guards shivered, quickly stepping aside. “Oh, it’s Third Master. Please, come in.”

They glanced at Yi Fan and Daoist Zhao but did not question further.

Once past the gate, the brocade man turned obsequiously. “The leader should be inside. I’ll take you in now.”

Crossing the front courtyard, they encountered seven or eight men patrolling with torches. This time, it was not so easy. The leader of the group sneered, “So it’s the mangy-headed Third. What brings you to the headquarters today? The leader sent you to capture people—did you catch any?”

“I’ll tell you this: The leader didn’t specify who to catch, but the other brothers brought back plenty.”

He glanced at Yi Fan and Daoist Zhao. “Well, you brought back two Taoists?”