297: Chapter 297 Chen Xiaodao's Kill

The sound of the metal gate falling still echoes in the factory building. Three men in black lean against the wall, breathing heavily, their faces pale.

White mist seeps from the cooling box by the guide rail, spreading across the floor and stretching their shadows into long, twisted shapes.

Chen Xiaodao stands before the main console. The joints of his mechanical arm emit a soft "click," like gears locking into place.

He doesn't move, but his gaze has changed—cold as a sheet of iron on a winter night.

"You have ten breaths left," he says, his voice not loud, yet overpowering the hum of the shield. "Do you want to die standing, or die kneeling?"

The elder raises his head sharply: "Do you really think we are alone?! Lord Mo Yuan has already—"

Before the words are finished, the sword light arrives.

"Squelch!"

A bright arc slashes out. The arm of the man to the elder's right is severed at the shoulder. A Talisman Nail flies from his palm, clinking as it bounces off the guide rail.

"I asked 'who sent you,' not for you to recite lines."

Chen Xiaodao sheathes his sword, the tip tapping the ground and sending sparks flying. "The next one to talk nonsense gets beheaded."

The man in the middle clutches his severed arm, blood dripping through his fingers, his voice trembling: "You... you can't kill us! We're just pawns following orders! Kill us, and you'll never find the mastermind—"

"I don't need to investigate," Chen Xiaodao sneers. "I already know."

He kicks off, lunging forward like an arrow from a bow. His left mechanical arm snaps open, fingers forming a claw as he strikes for the middle man's chest.

The man reacts quickly, leaning back to dodge, but Chen Xiaodao's Sword Intent has already locked onto him.

The sword is not yet drawn, but the Qi precedes it.

An invisible Sword Qi pierces through the air with a "pfft," penetrating the chest and exiting through the front as blood blooms.

The body falls back, hitting the guide rail with a "clang" and sliding to the ground.

"Two down," Chen Xiaodao retracts his hand, his mechanical knuckles slowly closing. "One left."

The elder presses against the wall, his forehead covered in cold sweat: "You're crazy! They didn't even resist! This is a massacre!"

"Massacre?" Chen Xiaodao tilts his head, a grin spreading. "Before you entered, did you think about whether the clansmen in the Technology Workshop were living people? When you were welding those nails, did you think about how many would die if they exploded? Now you talk to me about a massacre?"

He approaches step by step: "When you came, you didn't plan on going back alive, did you? The mastermind's order was 'failures need not return'—I heard that myself. Why are you still playing innocent?"

The elder grits his teeth and suddenly pulls a black chip from his waist, holding it high: "Then see if you can stop this! This is a Self-destruct Core. Detonating it could collapse half the factory—do you dare gamble?!"

Chen Xiaodao stops, glances at him, and laughs.

"The one in your hand is an old model we phased out three months ago," he says. "The voltage is unstable; it automatically fuses if charged for more than seven seconds. You've been holding it for eight seconds and it hasn't exploded. What does that tell you?"

The elder looks down. Sure enough, the edges of the chip are charred, emitting faint wisps of blue smoke.

"Fuck!" He flings his hand, trying to throw it.

"Too late." Chen Xiaodao's figure blurs, appearing before him. He draws his sword three inches; the Sword Qi, like wind sweeping away clouds, grinds the chip into powder.

"You... you knew what we'd bring all along!" The elder stumbles back until his spine hits the cold metal support, with no way out.

"It's not that I knew," Chen Xiaodao stares at him. "It's that you're too stupid. Using the same trick three times and expecting no one to be prepared? You did the same thing with the Zhao family of West Ridge last month, didn't you? Disguised as maintenance workers, planting mines in the vents. Pity, we caught a survivor that time."

The elder's pupils shrink: "Impossible! That guy clearly—"

"Committed suicide by poison?" Chen Xiaodao finishes his sentence.

"Yes, he died. But we soaked his brain in Spiritual Fluid for seven days and extracted every memory fragment.

Including your Shadow Council's contact codes, operation codenames, and... the nursery rhyme Mo Yuan loves to hum."

He takes a step closer, his voice dropping: "'Little Spider Under the Moonlight,' why don't you sing a line?"

The elder's lips tremble; he can't say a word.

Chen Xiaodao wastes no more words; a flash of sword light.

"Squelch—"

A head soars into the air. The fountain of blood from the severed neck splashes onto the wall like a crimson painting.

The headless corpse stands frozen for two seconds before collapsing with a thud.

Chen Xiaodao reaches out, grabbing the head while it's still tumbling in the air, fingers digging into the cheeks, and carries it back.

He walks to the edge of the shield and tosses it with one hand.

"Thump!"

The head hits the ground, rolling halfway over, face up. The eyes are still open, filled with terror.

Chen Wuwang stands just a few steps away, arms hanging down, his face expressionless.

He looks at the head on the ground, then at Chen Xiaodao, his voice as calm as if asking what's for dinner.

"All cleared?"

"Three," Chen Xiaodao nods. "All killed. The last one tried to threaten me with a self-destruct chip, so I let him try it."

Chen Wuwang grunts in affirmation, steps forward, and stares down at the head. His gaze falls on a fine line at the temple—there is a nearly invisible Talisman Seal there, glowing faintly purple.

"It really is him," Chen Wuwang sneers. "Mo Yuan, you still haven't given up?"

Chen Xiaodao stands half a step behind him, his mechanical arm slowly relaxing as the sword returns to its scabbard.

He doesn't speak, but his shoulders heave slightly. Clearly, that series of slayings wasn't easy.

"Patriarch," he says softly. "These people were after the Energy-conducting Rails. But they didn't know the real Energy Hub had already been moved. The places they were welding were all mock-up sections."

"I know," Chen Wuwang says flatly. "That's why I told you not to stop them too soon."

"You wanted them to finish talking," Chen Xiaodao understands. "But in the end, they didn't mention who was behind it, except for that name."

"It's enough." Chen Wuwang looks up toward the depths of the factory. "As long as they came, as long as they used Mo Yuan's mark, and as long as they dared touch the Chen family's things—that's enough."

He pauses, his voice turning a few degrees colder: "I don't need them to admit it. What I want is for him to know—that I've recognized him."

Chen Xiaodao is silent for a moment, then suddenly asks: "What if he comes again?"

"If he comes once," Chen Wuwang looks at the corpses on the ground, "kill him once."

"And if it happens many times?"

"Then let him see," Chen Wuwang raises his right hand, fingertips tracing through the air as if writing something, "what it means to pull up weeds by the roots."

The factory building falls into silence.

The shield is still running, pale gold ripples flowing slowly, reflecting the bloodstains and scattered parts on the floor.

Equipment indicator lights flicker on one by one, the Detection Array emits a soft hum, and the guide rails begin automatic calibration.

Chen Xiaodao stands behind the Patriarch, his gaze sweeping over the three corpses, finally resting on the head.

Its eyes are still open, the mouth twisted, as if it had seen something incomprehensible before death.

"Patriarch," Chen Xiaodao says suddenly. "This person seemed to want to say something before he died."

Chen Wuwang looks back at him.

"He opened his mouth," Chen Xiaodao frowns, "but made no sound."

Chen Wuwang walks over, crouches down, and reaches out to pry open the man's jaw.

A dark red scrap of paper is wedged under the root of the tongue, mostly soaked through with blood.

He pulls it out with two fingers and gently unfolds it.

There was only one word on it:

"Wait."