155: Chapter 155 Siege

“What a touching friendship.”

Koizumi Ichiro’s smile grew more mocking, as if he were enjoying a wonderful play.

“Unfortunately, neither of you is leaving today.”

His gaze locked back onto Song Yang, looking at him as if he were a dead man.

At this moment, Song Yang finally revealed an expression that could hardly be called a smile.

“What are you laughing at?”

The Japanese man was puzzled.

“I was just thinking, if I find the people under the Japanese embassy, what kind of expression will they have?” Song Yang replied.

Koizumi Ichiro’s pupils shrank violently.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

Song Yang smiled: “I just think that putting all your eggs in one basket and smugly thinking it’s impregnable, that level of intelligence really fits your nation’s level.”

“You’re courting death!”

Koizumi Ichiro’s patience was completely exhausted, his face twisted with rage.

There was no longer any leisure of a cat playing with a mouse; all that remained was boiling murderous intent!

Koizumi Ichiro moved.

Without any extra movement, he tapped his toes on the ground, and his whole body shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, lunging at Song Yang.

The sword in his hand, from an extremely tricky angle, slashed diagonally upwards, aiming straight at Song Yang’s neck.

This slash was fast, accurate, and ruthless!

In his eyes, the only outcome for this unarmed young man was to be disemboweled.

He could even imagine the pleasure of the blade slicing through skin and flesh, with warm blood splashing onto his face.

That face, twisted by anger, once again revealed a cruel smile.

However, in the next second, the scene he imagined did not appear.

“Clang!!”

A flash of light erupted between the two, illuminating Koizumi Ichiro’s face, which was filled with shock and astonishment.

His sword had been blocked.

A long sword, blood-red from hilt to tip, had appeared in Song Yang’s hand, precisely catching his fatal blow.

“How is this possible!”

“Where did he get a weapon?”

Koizumi Ichiro only felt a terrifying force coming from the opponent’s blade, shaking his hand until it went numb.

He couldn’t help but retreat three steps before barely stabilizing his figure.

He stared fixedly at Song Yang and the black sword that had appeared out of thin air in his hand, the murderous intent in his eyes replaced by thick, unfathomable shock.

He had hidden his strength to hunt others.

But the person in front of him didn’t seem as simple as he appeared on the surface.

Song Yang flicked his wrist, the blood-red long sword danced in the air, and the tip pointed diagonally at the ground.

He looked at the incredulous Koizumi Ichiro, then looked at the towering trees around them.

“Come out, no need to hide anymore.”

As soon as Song Yang’s voice fell, a faint “rustling” sound echoed through the forest.

As if responding to his words, several black shadows jumped down one after another from the surrounding giant tree branches, landing silently behind Koizumi Ichiro.

There were nine in total, all dressed in black, holding samurai swords, with cold eyes.

Three Warrior Rank late-stage, six Warrior Rank mid-stage!

After landing, they quickly spread out, forming a half-moon siege with Koizumi Ichiro, completely sealing off all of Song Yang’s escape routes.

The hope that had just ignited in Long-Haired Fatty’s heart because Song Yang had blocked that slash was completely extinguished when he saw these nine uninvited guests.

His complexion turned from flushed to ashen, and the last glimmer of light in his eyes dimmed.

It’s over...

This is really over now...

This was a long-planned siege.

“You really surprise me.”

The shock on Koizumi Ichiro’s face had faded, replaced by a grin. He looked at Song Yang as if admiring a rare collection.

“You actually discovered them. Your perception is not ordinary. I admit, I underestimated you before.”

“To deal with you guys, I made full preparations.”

He spread his hands, as if displaying his masterpiece, “That dragon egg concerns the future national destiny of our Yamato nation and cannot be lost.”

A man with a scar on his face behind him stepped forward and bowed to Koizumi Ichiro:

“Koizumi-kun, why bother wasting words with a dying man? Please allow me to perform kaishaku for him and take his head!”

“Step back.”

Koizumi Ichiro did not look back and scolded.

The man with the scar froze and immediately retreated respectfully to his original position.

Koizumi Ichiro’s gaze returned to Song Yang. He enjoyed this feeling of controlling everything, especially controlling an opponent who exceeded his expectations.

“Now, I will give you one last chance.”

“Kneel down, hand over all your secrets, and pledge your loyalty to me.”

“I can let you become one of them, or even have a higher status. Otherwise, you will die a hundred times more miserably than your companion.”

“Are you done?”

Song Yang finally spoke, asking indifferently.

“Courting death.”

Koizumi Ichiro was about to order to chop this ignorant guy into meat paste, but the words in his throat suddenly got stuck.

Something is wrong.

Something is not quite right.

His gaze locked onto Song Yang, and he discovered an abnormality.

In Song Yang’s hand, at some point, there was an extra flower.

A small, red flower that seemed to be watered with fresh blood was blooming eerily.

In the suspicious gazes of everyone, Song Yang’s five fingers slowly closed, and the fragile little flower was gently grasped in his palm.

The next moment, a sudden change occurred!

A touch of scarlet emerged from the depths of Song Yang’s pitch-black pupils and spread rapidly.

That was not bloodshot eyes from anger, but a blood-red wrapped in pure murderous intent, completely devouring his original pupil color.

If the previous Song Yang was a sharp blade hidden in a sheath, his sharpness was restrained.

Then now, he was an ancient beast that had broken free from all shackles and awakened from its slumber!

A certain aura on Song Yang was climbing step by step, seemingly breaking through a certain limit.

He could clearly feel the suppressed, most primitive desire for slaughter deep within his heart rising crazily under the catalysis of this power.

Reason still existed, but he no longer wanted to restrain it.

Sometimes, to deal with evil ghosts, one must become an even more ferocious demon.

Song Yang raised those blood-colored eyes, his gaze crossing Koizumi Ichiro and landing on the nine warriors behind him.

The red flower, although it turned him into a demon who only knew how to kill, also stimulated his physical potential, raising his strength to a higher level.

Koizumi Ichiro’s heart beat wildly uncontrollably.

His nine elites, whom he was proud of, actually subconsciously gripped their sword hilts under the gaze of Song Yang’s blood-colored eyes, and cold sweat seeped from their palms.

That was the look of looking at prey.

“This guy is a bit wrong!” Koizumi Ichiro squeezed a few words through his teeth, forcefully suppressing the chill rising in his heart, and sternly ordered:

“Attack together, kill him!”

The order broke the deadly silence.

“Ha!”

The Scarface man responded first, let out a loud shout, exerted force under his feet, and his figure shot out like an arrow from a string. His samurai sword drew a sharp arc, aiming straight at Song Yang’s neck.

The other eight moved as one.

They did not hesitate at all and launched attacks from all tricky angles simultaneously.

The sword light wove into an airtight net of death, sealing off all space above, below, left, and right.

This was a joint attack technique they had practiced countless times, enough to dismember many difficult experts instantly.