Chapter Seventeen: Playing Dead

At that moment, the droning sound pouring ceaselessly from the old priest’s mouth echoed through the hall, at once resembling the language of some unfathomable beast and the incantation of an ancient curse. Outside, the wind chimes rattled in the storm, their trembling notes amplifying the uncanny presence of the old priest, whose two-meter frame seemed ever more unnatural.

A guttural howl burst from him, and the peachwood sword in his grasp suddenly exploded, splintering into whirling fragments. His muscles swelled in an instant, shredding his once-loose priestly robes into tatters. The old priest’s body now towered as a giant, blood streaming intermittently down his skin. With the transformation, sharp fangs curled from his mouth, his visage growing more monstrous and ferocious. Black mist slithered over him, adding a layer of eerie mystery to his fearsome appearance.

“Be careful. He’s allowed a shikigami to possess him—great power, but the cost is steep,” the spirit of the soldier warned in Chen Hongxu’s mind. Chen’s pupils narrowed; he was already on guard. The creature before him, neither human nor ghost, was clearly not an adversary to be underestimated.

Before Chen could act, the old priest suddenly raised both hands above his head, forming sigils that Chen could not decipher, and began another low, buzzing chant. Chen dared not hesitate any longer. He sprang forward, legs propelling him at lightning speed toward the grotesque figure.

But it was already too late. As Chen closed in, the old priest’s eyes flashed with a black light. Between his upraised palms, a globe of violet-black flame materialized from thin air, hovering above his head, spinning slowly.

Chen managed to halt his fist, which had nearly struck the old priest’s chest, and quickly withdrew, rolling away to put distance between them. Now half-kneeling, one hand braced on his knee, sweat dripped from his brow in heavy drops. His back burned with silent agony—the black flame from the priest’s hand had struck him without a sound or warning, burning persistently, gnawing through his flesh like a thousand invisible rodents.

As the black flames darted chaotically around the hall, Chen dodged with care, his shoulders tensing. The red energy that had glowed at his chest now surged toward his back, as he attempted to extinguish the searing, corrosive fire with his own life force.

The old priest, now possessed by the shikigami and still expressionless, watched Chen’s struggle with a flicker of doubt in his eyes. He raised his arms again, and the wild black flames in the hall seemed to find a beacon, surging toward his palms.

Chen, ignoring this, bowed his head in silence, adopting the posture of one with no further tricks—ready to meet death head-on.

With a sizzle, several streams of black flame, directed by the priest, slammed into the wooden floor before Chen, corroding the aged planks into pitted ruin, thick smoke rising at once.

As more and more black fire shot from the old priest’s palms, Chen, unable to dodge in time, was grazed by a bolt on his shoulder. The acrid scent of burning flesh filled the air. Chen gasped, glanced at his blackened shoulder, and shook his arm laboriously, flinging away the black blood that dripped down from the wound.

The priest’s doubt deepened. Suddenly, the wind chimes outside shifted subtly, their sound changing. The old priest’s gaze sharpened, and abandoning his attempt to probe Chen’s secrets, he hurled the mass of black flame toward him.

As the black fire drew near, Chen suddenly collapsed, adopting the pose of a man resigned to death, eyes closed.

When the deadly flame was within three feet, a figure darted into the hall like a hawk snatching a chick, seizing Chen by the collar and flinging him aside. The figure, for her part, pivoted and spun on one foot, deftly avoiding the flames as they streaked past.

Chen, helpless as a rag doll, tumbled to the edge of the hall and slowly opened his tightly shut eyes. A faint, elusive smile played on his lips as he lay there, making no move to rise.

The newcomer glanced at the seemingly half-dead Chen, then turned to the priest and addressed him, “The shrine’s purple fire, it devours all. Before you kill him, I need to search him.”

Though possessed by the shikigami, the priest’s own consciousness was still present. He had long wondered at this inheritor’s apparent weakness, and now saw deeper meaning. With a half-smile, he nodded and stepped back, clearly content to watch from the sidelines.

The woman who had entered the hall hadn’t expected the priest to yield so easily, but she didn’t press her luck. She eyed him warily, retreating step by step toward Chen.

When she was only a few paces away, Chen—who had feigned death all this while—suddenly pushed off the floor and sprang to his feet, his fist glowing red as he struck the woman’s lower back. Sensing the attack, she hesitated and tried to turn, but it was too late.

With a dull thud, she was sent flying by his punch. Yet even in midair, she managed to twist her body, landing on her feet and stumbling back until she crashed into a pillar. Blood sprayed from her lips as she stared at Chen in disbelief, “You dare ambush me?”

“Of course. In fact, among all those who came to Japan for this mission, I’ve always been wary of two people—one is you. The other…” Chen brushed the dust off himself, speaking almost to himself.

“Wary of me?” Su Xiaoxiao spat through clenched teeth.

“Of course. Since you’re determined to get the Ganjin Vertical Eye, you must be certain you can handle its guardian. Even if you can’t win outright, you’d have no trouble escaping. That day, when you feigned surprise at my strength, I realized you were plotting against me, hoping your panic would make me underestimate you, so I’d linger and try to finish you off. But I didn’t play along—not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t see through you,” Chen paused, then continued, “This Blacklist mission is a grand affair. Any alternate member should be required to attend. Judging by your indifference to the mission’s outcome, your role must be more than that of a mere backup.”

Su Xiaoxiao said nothing, her head bowed, eyes flashing with venomous resentment. After a moment, she raised her head and glared at Chen. “I admit I underestimated your strength and cunning. But the Ganjin Vertical Eye will be mine. Either hand it over, or be ready for me to strike at any time, anywhere.”

Chen inclined his head seriously, smiling. “I’ll be waiting. If I could outwit you once, I can do so again. Next time, be smarter.”

Su Xiaoxiao’s lips pressed into a line, her delicate features twisted with fury. She stared at Chen, as if determined to carve his arrogant face into her memory.

With Chen’s disdainful gaze upon her, Su Xiaoxiao moved like a spider climbing in reverse, scaling the pillar she had crashed against, and finally smashing through the hall’s roof to escape.

Chen gazed at the gaping hole until the soldier’s spirit confirmed she was truly gone, and only then did he breathe a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to detain her—he simply couldn’t see through her. Every encounter revealed a new facet of her strength. With the mission incomplete, Chen dared not risk everything in a death match against Su Xiaoxiao, only to let the old priest snatch victory from the ashes. That would be the ultimate regret.