Chapter 127: Potions

Bang! Bang!

A bullet struck the corpse, and immediately after, another hit the man who had been firing from against the wall. Having just finished him off, Li Wensheng instantly released the body and lunged out the door. Landing, he rolled to the left, sprang up in a kip-up, and retreated to the wall. Before he could even catch his breath, a thunderous explosion erupted from the doorway just one wall away. A moment later, Li Wensheng saw a grenade fly out. The man inside throwing it was an expert; the grenade landed exactly a few inches past the threshold.

Li Wensheng dove to the side. Before he had even hit the ground, the grenade detonated. With a deafening roar, the violent shockwave propelled him forward. Once he landed, he scrambled up, pivoted, and pressed his back against the wall.

"Cough, cough."

Although he had dove away before the blast, the shockwave still left his internal organs churning. It was only because of his robust physical conditioning that he survived; an ordinary person would have suffered severe internal injuries from such a blast.

"Damn it, so they want to play with grenades, do they?" Li Wensheng muttered. He holstered his pistol and, from his raincoat—or rather, from his system storage—he retrieved two grenades. Turning sideways, facing the doorway, he adopted a running stance. After a deep breath, he pulled the pins and sprinted forward. As he passed the doorway, he slowed just enough to gently toss the two grenades inside.

Inside the room, five men were slowly advancing toward the entrance. One of them held an American-style grenade in one hand with his finger on the pin, while the other four held pistols. When the grenades were tossed in, they were only about three meters from the door. An experienced person would know that Li Wensheng’s toss would land right among the group. These men were veterans and elites; they knew the grenades would land near them, yet they did not dodge.

Li Wensheng had killed Emperor Showa Hirohito. To the low- and mid-level soldiers brainwashed to "loyalty to the Emperor," Li Wensheng was a mortal enemy to be destroyed at all costs. Their eyes were bloodshot; the four gunmen fired rapidly at Li Wensheng, while the one holding the grenade shouted in fury, "Die with us!"

In the midst of his shout, he pulled the pin and hurled the grenade at Li Wensheng. They were so blinded by rage and a death-defying desire to kill Li Wensheng that they failed to realize his incredible speed. Before their bullets or their grenade could reach him, he had already surged ahead and sprinted away.

Boom! Boom! Two explosions followed—first from inside the room, then from the grenade the man had thrown, which detonated about a meter in front of the doorway. The second blast had no effect on Li Wensheng; he was already ten meters away. Aside from some shrapnel from shattered tiles hitting his back, causing a slight sting, he was completely unharmed.

After the explosions, Li Wensheng drew his pistol and walked toward the room. The five men had been blown to pieces. After a quick scan of the doorway, he carefully stepped inside. Once in, he immediately swung his muzzle toward the corner to the right. Behind a dozen overturned bookshelves stood a group of men. They carried no firearms, but instead held gleaming samurai swords.

The man on the far right, a middle-aged individual, held his blade against Malong’s neck. Malong was tied to a chair with his mouth taped shut; seeing Li Wensheng, he let out excited, muffled grunts.

"Sir, put down your gun and fight us to the death. Only the winner may take him," the middle-aged man shouted at Li Wensheng in Japanese, his voice filled with fervor.

Clang!

After speaking, the middle-aged man picked up a samurai sword from a stool and tossed it toward Li Wensheng, where it landed on a fallen wooden shelf in the center. Li Wensheng frowned. It wasn't the man's request that bothered him. The island nation worshipped the Bushido spirit; while many merely paid lip service to it, there were indeed those who genuinely believed in it. It was not surprising that this man wanted a duel.

What made him frown was that, aside from the middle-aged man, the others were completely expressionless, like wooden puppets. One person acting like a doll was one thing, but for all of them to be like that was bizarre. As his thoughts raced, Li Wensheng’s pupils constricted.

"Damn, it can't be like those movies, can it? Is the island nation conducting human experiments and producing some kind of serum?"

"Although history doesn't record it, people like Zheng Yaoxian and Lin Nansheng are living, breathing realities. It’s entirely possible that such movie-like serums could exist."

Li Wensheng scanned the group again, then locked his gaze on the fanatical middle-aged man. "You dare fight me—did you use some kind of drug?" he asked in Japanese. The moment he spoke, he noticed the middle-aged man’s expression stiffen for a split second.

"Damn it, they really did develop a serum."

"But the effect can't be that strong. If they were truly invulnerable to blades and bullets, he wouldn't need to use Malong to force me to drop my gun."

After a quick internal assessment, Li Wensheng heard the man shout, "If you wish to know, then fight me first. I traveled here from Tokyo just for the sake of crossing blades with you. If you satisfy my request, I shall naturally satisfy yours."

"Fine!"

Clang. Li Wensheng dropped his pistol to the ground and strode toward the sword. The middle-aged man did not take advantage of the situation; he moved the blade away from Malong’s neck and shouted, "Sir, you truly have courage. My trip from Tokyo was not in vain."

Li Wensheng picked up the cold, sharp samurai sword. "You didn't come from Tokyo; you came from Manchuria. You’ve been there for several years, haven't you? You even speak with a Manchurian accent."

Perhaps because Li Wensheng had discarded his gun, the middle-aged man felt that, in return, he should be truthful. Or perhaps he simply believed that since he would kill Li Wensheng here anyway, there was no need to hide it. The middle-aged man nodded slightly. "Correct. I came from Manchukuo."

As he spoke, he stepped forward, stopping about ten meters from Li Wensheng. He bowed slightly, lifted his head, and raised the sword with both hands. "I am Kamiyama Osamu, a disciple of the Yagyu Shinkage-ryu."

Li Wensheng spun the sword in one hand, creating a flash of steel, and smiled. "I won't mention my name, and as for my lineage—I have none. I’ve never studied swordsmanship or blade techniques."

Kamiyama Osamu frowned slightly, his eyes turning sharp as a hawk’s, fixed intently on Li Wensheng. Kamiyama did not launch a preemptive attack, and Li Wensheng didn't move either; he wanted to observe him. The others were like puppets, but Kamiyama seemed normal, suggesting that either the serum he took was of a higher grade, or he had absorbed a higher concentration. Observing him might reveal something. He was willing to duel precisely to understand the effects of the drug; otherwise, with his marksmanship, shooting Kamiyama’s sword hand and then killing him would have been effortless.

Li Wensheng observed Kamiyama, Kamiyama stared at Li Wensheng, the others stood like statues, and Malong watched them both, not daring to breathe. For a moment, the entire room fell into a deathly silence.