Jing Ke's feet moved with the speed of the wind, and the moment his short sword was drawn, its cold light shone eerily in the night. He closed in on the wicked man almost instantly, the blade aimed straight for his heart.
This move is his signature technique, relying on its suddenness and ferocity to subdue the enemy, making it impossible to defend against. Even the notorious villain would be unable to withstand it.
The wicked man remained calm and unhurried, not even bothering to remove his cloak. He simply took a half-step back, slightly turned his body, and sneered, "Jing Ke, oh Jing Ke, is this all you've got?"
"You..." Upon hearing this, Jing Ke's anger flared, and he thrust his short sword even more fiercely. But before he could react, a black shadow slashed through the air. The wicked man was right in front of him, advancing instead of retreating, suddenly drawing his sword from his waist and slashing horizontally!
The knife and sword collided in mid-air, sparks flying.
Jing Ke felt a numbness in his wrist. The opponent's immense strength slammed into his hand, making his tiger's mouth feel like it was about to split open. He gritted his teeth and tried to forcefully twist the sword, but he found that the wicked man's sword momentum was like a surging wave, mercilessly suppressing him.
"Jing Ke, with your pathetic skills, you're no match for me!" the wicked man sneered. "Dare to stop my Qin state from conquering the world? You bunch of rotten eggs are no match for me!"
Before the words had even finished, he had already lunged forward, his blade suddenly surging forward. Jing Ke was startled and instinctively tried to withdraw his sword and retreat, but it was too late—the wicked man's blade slithered close to his shoulder like a venomous snake, whistling through the air.
"Pfft!"
Blood splattered, and Jing Ke hurriedly dodged to the side, but the blade still grazed his arm. He groaned, enduring the pain as he leaped back several feet, clutching his bleeding wound, his face suddenly turning deathly pale.
"Is that all? I haven't even used my full strength yet!" The wicked man took a few steps closer, his eyes full of contempt. He was just toying with Jing Ke, but he didn't expect that Jing Ke couldn't even withstand half of his strength.
Jing Ke gritted his teeth, unwilling to retreat. He took a deep breath, forcefully gathered his inner energy, switched the short sword to his left hand, and prepared to attack again.
To everyone's surprise, the wicked man suddenly sheathed his sword, seemingly unconcerned about his killing move. Instead, he spread his hands and laughed, "Fine, come on then, you just want to kill me, don't you?"
"You...you dare to be so arrogant!" Jing Ke knew this man was incredibly powerful, yet he still wanted to try and seize an opportunity. With a flick of his sword, he stepped forward, attempting to feint and deceive the wicked man. But to his surprise, the wicked man didn't dodge at all, allowing his sword to pierce his chest—
"puff!"
To Jing Ke's horrified gaze, the short sword only penetrated halfway into his flesh before being firmly stuck by the muscle, unable to go any further! It was as if it had been pierced by hard black iron.
Immediately afterwards, the wicked man laughed loudly and slapped Jing Ke in the chest, sending him flying.
"Cough...cough..." When Jing Ke fell to the ground, his chest was in so much pain that it felt like it was about to explode, and he almost spat out a mouthful of blood. He looked up and saw that the clothes on his husband's chest had been torn, revealing a trace of blood underneath, but there was nothing to protect him.
"You...you...you're not human!" Jing Ke's voice trembled. He couldn't understand how his physical body could block the sharp short sword.
The wicked man patted his chest and sneered, "I've heard that your mediocre skills are no match for me. You still don't believe me?" With his current physique, it would be a pipe dream for swords and knives to harm him.
Jing Ke felt despair, yet he still tried to stand up, trembling. But after struggling a few times, blood kept flowing down his shoulders, arms, and chest. Coupled with the shock of being struck by his wicked husband's palm, he even lost the strength to grip his sword.
"I...I'm not dead yet...I still have a chance..." Jing Ke murmured to himself, looking at the short sword on the ground.
The wicked man looked at him coldly, and seeing him struggle to get up, he showed no pity: "If you still have the strength, then continue. If you don't have the strength, then you might as well end it all."
Jing Ke bit his lip until it bled, finally managing to stay upright as he slowly bent down to pick up the short sword. Unexpectedly, a foot suddenly stepped on the blade. It was the wicked man; he slightly pressed down, embedding the sword a fraction into the soil, his expression revealing a cold, murderous intent: "Enough. You have no chance."
As soon as he finished speaking, the wicked man drew his dagger, and with a flash, severed Jing Ke's right arm with a "thud!" Blood splattered, and a piercing scream echoed through the dark street. There was no one around, and no one could save him.
"Ah—!" Jing Ke clutched his severed arm, his face filled with terror and pain, his mind filled only with excruciating agony. The burning blood blurred his consciousness, and in a daze, he seemed to return to the scene of plotting the assassination of Qin with Prince Dan, but he never expected that he would ultimately be unable to escape death.
The villain remained calm, wiping the blood off his knife. He looked at the assassin before him with a chilling expression and said, "I respect you as a cop for daring to do things that others wouldn't. Unfortunately... you've run into me. Of course, even if you hadn't met me, your plans would have failed."
"The world's trends and destiny are beyond your control, a mere supporting character like yourself... Fate cannot be defied!"
He did have some admiration for Jing Ke, who went to Qin alone to assassinate the emperor, but ultimately his fate was not good enough to suppress the First Emperor. He was saved by Xia Wuqie's medicine box, otherwise history would have been rewritten.
However, the First Emperor's merits and demerits were right before his eyes. If he had succeeded, who knew how long the chaos and division of the world would have lasted? This was the reason why the wicked man hated Jing Ke and naturally he would not show any mercy.
Jing Ke clenched his teeth, powerless to resist in the pool of blood. He could only strain to lift his head, as if trying to say something, but ultimately no words came out. The wicked man swung his blade, and along with the last words he wanted to utter, they turned into a dissipating mist of blood.
"Bang."
Jing Ke's head rolled to the ground, his eyes still filled with resentment as he died.
The wicked man sheathed his sword, glancing coldly at the headless corpse on the ground. A night breeze blew by, carrying a metallic, metallic smell. He sneered at the dim lanterns beside the empty alley: "How boring. Looking across the world, no one can rival me."
"Come out, I'm in a hurry to go back to sleep!" The wicked man didn't turn around, but as if he had eyes in the back of his head, he spotted the person who was still hiding in the shadows.
Sure enough, as soon as he finished speaking, a soldier rushed over, knelt on one knee, and shouted, "Grand Commandant, you are mighty!"
The soldier, dressed in Qin army armor, had a face full of respect and eyes full of reverence; there seemed to be nothing wrong with him.
The wicked man turned to look at the lowly soldier and laughed, "Are you Tian Guang... or Gai Nie, or some other swordsman or scholar?"
The soldier's eyes widened in shock. He had disguised himself very well, yet this wicked man had still managed to see through him.
He took a deep breath, calmed his emotions, and feigned confusion, saying, "Grand Commandant, this soldier, Black Ox, joined the army three years ago. He's not a chivalrous...or a renowned scholar!"
The wicked man curled his lip and said disdainfully, "My Qin soldiers are a fierce and ruthless army. You don't have the iron-blooded spirit of soldiers who have been through many battles. Instead, you are full of sharp killing intent."
"You've been in the army for three years, but the calluses on your palms aren't something you can build in three years of martial arts training. Without years of hard work, how could you have such thick calluses?"
Upon hearing this, the soldier was shocked. He never expected that this wicked man would be so observant.
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