"What do you mean by cautious and prudent?"
"Isn't this just killing to silence someone?"
Hanakaiin Ra said angrily.
"Were you really raised in the Hanakaiin Family?"
Hanakaiin Itsuki suddenly asked curiously.
"What?"
"Are you saying you weren't?"
Hanakaiin Ra retorted furiously.
"I was."
"But we're different!"
"You lived far too comfortably!"
"No!"
"You were protected too well!"
Hanakaiin Itsuki spoke, glancing at Hanakaiin Tōru with a hint of admiration.
Hanakaiin Ra frowned, feeling offended again.
And Hanakaiin Tōru?
He said nothing, simply gazing at the night sky.
"Tōru, you had your own plan initially. Are you now just planning to wait?"
Hanakaiin Itsuki stated with certainty.
"Yes, wait."
Hanakaiin Tōru nodded, his gaze at the night sky growing increasingly serious.
Hanakaiin Itsuki looked at Hanakaiin Tōru's demeanor, exhaled, and lay down where he was.
"Lazy guy."
He muttered under his breath, closing his eyes.
Hanakaiin Haru did the same, shutting her eyes.
Only Hanakaiin Ra kept his eyes wide open.
He glanced at Hanakaiin Itsuki, then at Hanakaiin Haru, and finally at Hanakaiin Tōru.
He felt like he had a thousand things to say.
Something he should express.
Yet it seemed no one wanted to acknowledge him.
Like a discarded puppy, Hanakaiin Ra slowly inched toward Hanakaiin Tōru.
He spoke in a low voice.
"Tōru-nii."
"Am I stupid?"
Hanakaiin Tōru withdrew his gaze from the night sky and shook his head seriously.
"My silly little brother, how could you be stupid?"
Hanakaiin Ra: Ծ‸Ծ
...
Jason, waiting for Hui Lijing's return, was lounging on the sofa with his eyes closed.
But the next moment, he sat upright.
"Moved already?"
"Was it the Hanakaiin Family?"
"Or was it Blossom Cherry?"
"Or did both coordinate in this?"
Jason thought to himself as he grabbed his backpack and took out a mask and cleaver.
"I didn't want this, but someone always forces me!"
Jason murmured softly, putting on the mask.
Then, picking up the cleaver, he stood up.
The next moment—
Jason vanished from the room; even the brightest lights couldn't reveal his silhouette.
"Are you sure the target is inside the room?"
A robe-clad Onmyoji asked the person beside him.
"Confirmed."
"Since returning in the afternoon, they haven't left."
Just having verified the information, the subordinate answered.
"Good."
"Now, it's time for us to act."
Saying this, the Onmyoji turned to look at the crowd behind him.
Behind this Onmyoji stood over ten people.
Each wore white ceremonial robes and black tall hats, exuding steady energy and cold expressions.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it's our time to serve the family."
"Eliminate the target and ensure the continuation of our legacy."
"This is a fight for survival, so give it your all!"
The leader bowed respectfully as he spoke.
"Understood!"
The dozen Onmyoji answered in unison.
Then, they gestured toward the distance.
Suddenly, shadows flickered.
Hundreds of armored Samurai and an even greater number of black-clad Ninja emerged.
The Samurai exuded ferocity, like blades unsheathed.
The Ninja remained silent and menacing, with harsh gazes.
"Enter and surround him."
"Hunt him down!"
The Onmyoji commanded.
Meanwhile, a Barrier enveloped the entire block.
They wanted to minimize collateral damage.
This wasn't due to their kindness.
Rather, it was a requirement from their partners.
They had ridiculed their collaborators before, calling them crocodile tears.
Just mere mortals.
What was there to consider?
But ultimately, they accepted the suggestion.
After all, they were far from mortal.
When dealing with mortals, some charity seemed appropriate.
Consider it an added thrill for this hunt.
With ten Onmyoji acting simultaneously, the Barrier was completed almost instantly.
Hundreds of Samurai, followed by countless Ninja, quickly approached "Mask x Cleaver x Flesh."
When the small building was completely surrounded, a squad of Ninja swiftly climbed upstairs.
Not only at the doorway but on the rooftop too, Ninja silhouettes appeared.
The squad leader took out a thin wire, inserted it into the lock, and gently twisted it open.
Click!
The crisp sound of the door unlocking served as a signal.
The Ninja crowded around the door rolled into the room.
Meanwhile, the Ninja on the rooftop occupied the four corners, prepared to strike at any moment.
In their calculations, the target's only escape route was to jump onto the rooftop.
But!
There was nothing!
The room was completely empty!
"No one!"
"The target must've fled!"
"But didn't escape far!"
The squad leader scanned the empty room, inspecting the sofa with visible pressure marks, brushing his hand over it to feel the lingering warmth, and immediately reported.
"Pursue!"
The radio transmitted affirmative orders.
Immediately, the Ninjas launched into action. Searᴄh the NovelZone.fun website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
If he hadn't fled far, then he must still be within the block.
Staying within the block boosted their confidence in tracking him down.
After all, they were professionals.
Every Ninja carried such assurance.
This made them all the more aggressive.
Unlike the agile movements of the Ninjas across walls and rooftops, the Samurai displayed more composure, operating in pairs, like sentries stationed across the entire block, no more than a hundred meters apart.
Each pair was clearly visible to one another.
"This target is supposedly a Sword Saint?"
In one team stationed at a street corner, a Samurai couldn't hold back his query.
"Sword Saint, my ass!"
"It's just bragging!"
"If he were truly a Sword Saint, running away would've been impossible."
The other one declared confidently.
"Maybe it's strategy?"
The first speaker speculated.
"You've read too many books to lose your common sense."
"Who believes in strategies anymore?"
"We simply outnumber the enemy and crush him—that's the best tactic!"
The other Samurai scoffed disdainfully.
"That's actually a form of strategy!"
The first Samurai emphasized.
"This counts as strategy?"
"What kind of strategy is this?"
"Anyone knows that the many overpower the few."
The other laughed contemptuously.
"But, have you heard this saying?"
The younger Samurai asked.
"What saying?"
The older Samurai replied.
"Truth is always in the hands of the few!"
The young Samurai stated seriously.
The words made the older Samurai chuckle dryly.
"Do you know why truth lies in the hands of the few?"
The elder retorted.
"Is it because... they're smart? Calm?"
The younger Samurai thought for a moment before asking.
"No!"
"It's because everyone who agrees with them gets killed."
"And they?"
"They're barely hanging on."
"That's why they're the minority."
The elder Samurai answered.
The younger Samurai froze, instinctively wanting to refute, but when the words reached his lips, he felt his senior's perspective seemed oddly reasonable.
Without realizing it, the young Samurai was stunned into silence.
Seeing the younger Samurai in such a state, the elder Samurai chuckled again.
"Don't think too much about these things."
"It's useless."
"Just remember to grip your sword tightly—agree with your view, spare them; disagree, cut them down. The first time you strike, you'll be anxious, scared someone would see through your facade of might and twisted logic. But after ten or a hundred cuts, your words will become truth. Nobody will doubt you."
"Because those who would doubt you are dead."
The elder Samurai said, brandishing his katana.
The long blade gleamed with a chilling light under the moonlight.
The younger Samurai watched, then unconsciously picked up his own sword.
At this moment, he seemed to grasp the truth.
He felt a strange urge to indulge in it.
It was a peculiar thrill.
But then, the young Samurai frowned, looking into the distance with a hint of complaint in his voice—
"Why's it getting foggy?