Unusual Fate Records

Chapter 103, Section 041: The Swordsman

The flames cast dappled shadows, illuminating the streets brightly.

In the middle of the large pit, the blue Maserati's hood was teetering on the verge of collapse, and the windows were riddled with cracks. The once pristine blue color was gone, replaced by a greasy, blackened mess.

At the critical moment, Chizuru Fujiwara tightened the steering wheel, the wheels squeaked, and within the blast radius, half of the car was lifted up and fell like a swirling leaf, hitting a telephone pole. The metal car was dented vertically, and the glass finally gave way and crashed down.

Jealousy unbuckled his seatbelt and groped his way to lift Fujiwara Chizuru out of the car. When he turned around, the entire vehicle was completely engulfed in flames. Ryoma, who was dazed and confused from the fall, managed to open the window, his clothes already on fire.

The remaining racers were already revving their motorcycles, barking defiantly as they cranked their chains.

"Find a safe place and take good care of her."

Jealousy led him to hand the unconscious policewoman over to the slightly injured Ryoma.

"it is good."

He took Fujiwara from her; the policewoman wasn't very heavy, and with a little effort, Ryoma could run a distance.

The Maserati was billowing black smoke, its headlights bent and one corner collapsed, like a dying steed lying on the ground, unable to move anymore, only able to watch as the horse carrying the policewoman gradually drove away.

The dark blue car body was slowly swallowed up by the orange-red flames.

As Ryoma lowered his head, Fujiwara Chizuru's glasses broke in two from the impact, and her forehead was red and swollen. It would probably be difficult for her to regain consciousness in a short time.

Jealousy, holding a knife in his right hand, stood sideways between the racers and the dynamic dragon horse.

He lowered his head, gripped the scabbard with his right hand, his thumb pressed against the hilt, and slowly raised it to open a section of the blade.

Inside the Maserati, the spotlight had somehow gotten quite close to them.

“Mr. Jealousy, you’re still as radiant as ever.” Guan Shenyi stepped out of the car, his black leather boots crumpling a scarlet cigarette butt on the ground.

Jealousy listened intently to the voice of a middle-aged stranger, clearly someone with ill intentions.

"Guan Shenyi?"

"It's down."

“That saves trouble,” said Jealousy.

"Oh?" Guan Shenyi raised an eyebrow, gestured, and his armed men cocked their guns in unison. With a clang, the dark muzzles of the guns were pointed at the fluttering hem of her dress, "Is your knife faster than my gun?"

He wasn't underestimating Jealousy; he was a true insider. Jealousy had not only lost his sight but also completely lost any ability to "seize" things. With just his physical body, there was really nothing to worry about.

Jealousy said, "You'll see when you try."

Today he was dressed in a black striped haori, elegant like an ancient samurai, as if he had dressed up carefully. The black and white stripes were divided horizontally by the belt, and inside were silk sashes and black riding katama horns, which fluttered gently in the fire and wind.

“I know your physical abilities are extraordinary, even superior to most White Walkers, but one fist can't fight four hands, not to mention our weapons have been strengthened and are not those counterfeit ones.”

Guan Shenyi said.

"Why talk so much?" Jealousy chuckled.

"The thought of the Imperial Guards, who are usually so high and mighty, having their heads fall into my hands still makes me feel a little excited."

"You anticipated that we would track you down?"

"I don't have that ability. To be honest, you guys almost ruined my plans tonight," Guan Shenyi said. "But it was just better to be prepared. I didn't expect to gain anything from this."

“You’re going to see the mastermind, right?” Jealousy said.

Guan Shenyi was getting impatient: "Any platitudes are unnecessary. Under my guns, there's no hope of survival. I was originally hoping to see if this character, one of the Seven Deadly Sins, would beg for mercy."

Jealousy took a step forward with his left foot and said, "Then you may be disappointed."

"Hmm?" Guan Shenyi sensed the provocation in his words, his thick lips pressed tightly together, and he beckoned: "Shoot."

"Bang bang bang-"

You Donglongma turned around in surprise. The gunshot was not far away, but jealousy made him blind and unable to move easily, and his heart was in turmoil.

He was a little scared, a little jealous that he was dressed so formally today, like—

It's like having a premonition.

nothing to do...

"Hey kid! Don't run!" shouted the silver-ringed man on the motorcycle, a gleaming long knife in his hand.

"Damn it!" Ryoma had no choice but to carry Fujiwara Chizuru on his back and run faster.

……

"Ding Dong."

Metal cartridge cases lay scattered on the ground, cut lengthwise.

"Ah..." A stir ran through the crowd.

Jealousy held a knife in his left hand, the cold moonlight falling on the blade, and the faint smoke and the bursting flames reflected on the man's blind face.

"Do you want to continue?"

Jealousy took a slight breath, but his hand holding the knife remained steady.

"Impossible! I've never heard of you being skilled in swordsmanship!" Guan Shenyi lost his composure, repeatedly slashing at bullets—this was clearly the kind of skill only arrogance possesses!

“I have indeed never revealed my swordsmanship to any outsider.” Jealousy said, slowly sheathing the alluring blade.

The headband that was originally tied into a ponytail, due to the high-speed movement, made her shoulder-length hair appear even more feminine if it weren't for the gauze covering her eyes.

“But I’ve always tried my best to catch up with her,” Jealousy laughed, “whether it’s swordsmanship or sight.”

"Are you kidding me!" Guan Shenyi roared in anger and embarrassment. "Shoot him through!"

"Boom, boom, boom—"

This time, Guan Shen saw it clearly. The dense volley of bullets in front of the man seemed to be slowed down, and from a frame-by-frame perspective, the man's movements were different in every frame.

Horizontal strokes, left-falling strokes, right-falling strokes, hooks, flicks, and slashes

Countless bullets burst open in mid-air, scattering like peanuts on the ground.

The man held a knife in both hands, his movements so swift that even the light and shadow of the blades were difficult to catch. One could only judge the trajectory of the blades by the tinkling of bullets. The fact that the man in front of him was completely unharmed proved that his knife skills had reached a terrifying level.

Even arrogant swordsmanship would probably be no match for him.

His violent movements caused his hair to fly and become disheveled.

Jealousy returned the sword to its sheath, and with a clatter of wooden clogs, everyone snapped out of their daze; this guy was preparing to attack.

The man's eyes were wrapped in gauze, and his handsome face was partially obscured by his loose, dark hair.

"Wait, wait!" Guan Shenyi's voice trembled slightly as he waved his hands repeatedly. "I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!"

Jealousy stopped in its tracks.

"The person who ordered me was—"

Just as he was about to open his mouth, his face suddenly contorted, and black blood gushed from his pupils, nostrils, and the corners of his mouth.

"Ouch—" He covered his face in pain, bent over, and clutched his throat with both hands.

The people around were so frightened that they backed away.

Before long, Guan Shenyi couldn't even make a sound, curled up on the ground and kicking his legs incessantly.

Jealousy frowned. He couldn't see clearly, but he vaguely knew that something had happened to the other person.

"close?"

In the end, the man in black lay dead in a pool of blood, his body contorted in agony.

"Big brother, big brother... he suddenly died!"

One of the subordinates mustered up his courage and spoke.

Jealousy thought for a moment and said, "If I remember correctly, you have the ability to fake your death, right?"

As he spoke, he slowly drew his sword, the tip of which rested on the ground in his left hand, gently scraping the earth and making a scraping sound.

"I won't give you the chance to fake your death."

His henchmen surrounded him; there were only four gunmen and a few street racers, and they retreated step by step as Jealousy approached.

Jealousy raised its silver blade high, ready to strike.

A beam of light suddenly appeared in the darkness.

"boom--"

A flower of blood bloomed in his heart.

(End of this chapter)