Chapter 86: Kagome Hall (Part Fourteen)
Chapter 86: Kagome Hall (Part Fourteen)
“Nishizuka, have you gone mad?”
Watanabe shook his head and stared at Fang Jing beside him with an unbelievable look in his eyes.
“I’m certainly not mad, but to get everyone out safely now, we have to find a way to block these crazy people.”
He had new thoughts about the strange events at Kagome Hall, especially after Toriumi Arisu’s hints reminded him of key details. Together with the dream he slowly remembered from last night, the puzzle’s shape became clearer.
He urgently wanted to see if his guess was true.
“It seems… there’s no other choice.”
Toriumi Kotaro’s right hand, holding the gun, was sweaty. He forced a smile, but his face was stiff and nervous.
“Then, tell us your plan!”
“Time is short; it seems we don’t have time to think it over.”
Fang Jing grinned. Everyone saw outside the house: flames started on the firewood, and the dead body of Old Man Saeki, stuck on a pole, burned in the roaring fire. His limbs twisted and changed shape in the red flames.
The special burnt smell of cooked meat floated over, and thick black smoke rose from the fire.
The main door of Kagome Hall opened from the inside. This was bait and a signal.
The villagers noticing it yelled wildly; dozens charged toward the door.
The fastest villager didn’t even reach inside when he ran right into Fang Jing, who pounced like a hungry tiger. His body shot out like a bullet; he swung his palm and flung the villager high.
The man thudded as he hit the ground, clutching his stomach and curling up twisted.
A split second later, a rising hand-knife moved with a windy rush, hitting someone else’s face.
A weird crack came out, like an eyeball bursting inside its socket.
Ahhhhhh!
The man covered his eyes, staggered back, crouched down, and blood spilled from between his fingers.
“Kill!”
A third villager, wrapped in a white cloak with his face covered, shrieked strangely. He lifted a farm tool iron fork and stabbed toward Fang Jing’s face. The sharp fork could punch bloody holes into him.
At that moment, Fang Jing showed amazing reflexes. It was like he predicted the move; he reached out, grabbed one end of the fork, twisted it, and yanked it away.
As the man lost the fork in shock, Fang Jing kneed him like lightning, foot angled upward, landing hard under his chin.
Thud!
Blood filled the villager’s mouth; his jaw shattered instantly.
The villagers behind didn’t step forward to fight anymore. They crouched, picked up stones, and threw them toward the doorway.
Fang Jing dodged the flying stones and leaped back nimbly. He retreated behind the door and shut one side of it again.
Toriumi Kotaro waited on the left side of the door. He watched Fang Jing’s entire attack and stared at the young man with astonishment.
Fang Jing’s moves were smooth but fierce; people he hit got hurt bad or broken, which gave a feeling of cruelty.
“Shoot the gun.”
Fang Jing reminded him, and he snapped out of it. He leaned out and fired the gun.
A villager stepping on the doorway stairs got hit in the thigh and slid to the ground.
Fang Jing grinned darkly. He jabbed out the fork at a strange angle, its sharp tip piercing another villager’s stomach who tried to rush in. He twisted it hard, feeling it drive through organs, then gripped the fork’s long handle, turned it, and sent the man flying.
Seeing the fallen villager’s face, Fang Jing’s cold look turned mean and savage.
Boom!
Watanabe charged over holding a bamboo sword to help shut the other door.
Bang bang bang!
Thumps came from outside, but the solid wood door wasn’t easy to push open.
“Did the others get away?”
“They’re going through the glass door on the other side of the activity room. Hopefully, the villagers focus on the front door.”
The first-floor activity room had a back door to the outside. They were the three staying behind. Opening the main door tricked the villagers into watching it, giving time for others to move from the activity room to Kagome Hall’s back room—that place with a basement.
The activity room’s entrance was blocked; even if villagers came through its back door, they couldn’t reach the main hall.
Once the others were gone, Fang Jing, Watanabe, and Toriumi would go upstairs.
If Aishū Village villagers chased after them onto the second floor and they couldn’t hold, the three planned to jump down, join the others, and hide in the back room.
“The villagers aren’t endless. Some would guard Kagome Hall, and others would hunt people down. That may split them up, and we might break them apart.”
This was a backup plan meant just for now. Toriumi and Watanabe knew it was out of desperation.
But they started thinking Fang Jing wasn’t joking about his words.
With the scary power he showed, if he avoided being trapped by Aishū Village villagers, he might slowly take out the weaker ones one by one using the land. He could wipe out all the villagers alone, maybe.
Bang bang bang! The door took hard bumps; by the sound, it wouldn’t last long.
“You go upstairs first; I’ll cover the back!”
He barely finished speaking when the door burst open. The crowd of white-cloaked villagers surged in messily again.
Here!
He hunched low, dashed forward fast.
A breath later, a rushing wind came. His fist spun powerfully from his waist, punching through the air with loud pops.
Wham!
The fist slammed into one man’s head; the big shake scrambled his brain and he went down.
He’d already seen through the people’s strength. He threw punches or kicks out of muscle power without holding back; each hit could tear tendons or shatter bones, crippling people.
Snap!
A weird cracking sound, and a villager screamed like a kid, sitting suddenly on the ground. His left leg bent 180 degrees backwards.
Another got swept off his feet by a kick, flew back, hit the wall, and spat foamy blood out his mouth.
“Too weak, pitifully weak and easy to break.”
These villagers were just ordinary people. He zigzagged with quick footwork, popping up here and there. Most attacks he dodged easily; he didn’t bother moving away for some stick pokes or kicks. Because inside him, Yuan Armor produced a purple web making a thin shield. With his strong body, he wasn’t hurt at all.
Crack!
Fang Jing moved again, shot up a foot. The neck of a villager holding a wood-chopping knife made a sick snapping sound.
He grabbed that knife, slid sideways, closed the gap to another with a kitchen knife, and sliced across his throat.
It was total killing. Each time he killed someone, more “Miscellaneous Fate” floated out from their body, sucked into his, feeding Yuan Armor’s growth.
Hah!
After killing half of them, Aishū Village villagers seemed to feel fear and stepped back.
They had more people—dozens left. If they rushed all at once, they might have won, but they seemed afraid and backed off.
Finally, the villagers dropped their weapons and ran outside toward the door.
Fang Jing didn’t think of chasing them.
Soon, most white-robed villagers fled scattered.
He paused, his look shifting—that feeling came back again, like watching an old black-and-white film reel. What he saw didn’t feel real or fluid, like a faulty picture.
The feeling vanished quickly. Fang Jing blinked; inside, he got more ideas.
He walked up to a man he’d stabbed to death and pulled off the white cap covering his head. Underneath was a young man’s face.
“Aishū Village… I thought it only had old people left?”
He muttered to himself, his lips curling in a mocking grin.
Fang Jing kept moving, walked outside, and approached the burnt blurry body of Old Man Saeki.
He didn’t need long to check. With his weak medical memory, he could tell it was clearly a woman’s corpse.