EM 69. Scum

Fu Shanming’s clothes were slowly soaked through with blood, which pooled beneath him in a dark red stain under the light. The color drained from his cheeks and lips with alarming speed, as if he could stop breathing at any moment.

He didn’t look at Song Feng. He didn’t look at Shao Xiujie. He didn’t look at Dian either. He just stared up at the black night sky, his face blank with confusion and dazed disbelief. He couldn’t understand why he had run out like that. He didn’t even know whether he had done it for Song Feng or for Shao Xiujie.

Song Feng cast a quick glance his way. Fu Shanming had been bullied since he was a child, then clawed his way upward step by step with nothing but his own cunning. Eventually, he had earned the power he held now. But what he had truly been chasing, what he truly wanted in life, Song Feng suspected that not even he himself knew the answer.

And now, grievously wounded, if he died like this, it would be a confused and senseless death. He had done all kinds of dirty work to survive in the underworld. He was, through and through, a bastard. A man like him deserved to die. Song Feng knew that. But after everything that had happened recently, he realized he couldn’t claim to feel nothing. Especially when this injury had been taken for their sake.

Dian was briefly thrown by everything that had just happened, but then spoke quietly, a trace of admiration in his voice. “You really are something, Song Feng. Whether or not Mr. Fu did it for you, Mr. Shao clearly was ready to die for you. I honestly don’t understand what makes you so special.”

“I don’t understand it either…” Song Feng murmured. He listened carefully to his communicator but heard only silence. It had probably been destroyed in the earlier blast. If any were still functional, they were likely turned off by now to avoid hearing who had been lost.

He gritted his teeth, pressed hard on his wound, forced himself upright, and lifted his eyes. “Where is he?”

“I can’t tell you that yet,” Dian said, slowly shaking his head. “He asked me to take one of your arms, and I haven’t done that.”

As he spoke, he tilted his chin. The man beside him raised his gun again.

A flash of sharpness passed through Song Feng’s eyes. He lifted his submachine gun and fired. Three shots rang out. One man screamed and fell. Another gave a muffled groan. The third collapsed without a sound.

He had acted in the split second before the other could fire, blasting the man’s hand to pieces. The target dropped his weapon and fell to the ground, howling and clutching his arm. Seeing things go sideways, one of Dian’s guards raised his gun and shot.
Shao Xiujie’s pupils contracted as he jumped in front of Song Feng, taking a bullet to the shoulder. Blood surged from the wound.

At that same moment, Song Feng turned his gun and shot the attacker straight through the head.

In just a few seconds, two were down and one wounded. Only Dian was left standing unharmed.

Song Feng remained perfectly still, his gun now aimed directly at Dian. The look in his eyes carried such cold, lethal intent that no one dared meet it head-on.

The injured man on the ground writhed and finally managed to get up. He glanced at Song Feng, then stumbled back a few steps and took off.

Song Feng didn’t shift his aim. One of Fu Shanming’s men fired at the retreating figure, but the man had already turned a corner and vanished. Song Feng paid it no mind. He kept his eyes on Dian and spoke slowly, each word clear and heavy. “Start walking.”

Dian froze under the pressure of his presence. He knew if he so much as twitched, the man in front of him would not hesitate to shoot him dead. The man standing before him had blood running down his camo pants, his skin pale as snow, and looked like he was only moments away from collapsing. And yet the danger radiating from him was unmistakable.

The weaker he became, the sharper he seemed. Dian had never met anyone like this.

He lifted his foot and began walking forward, one step at a time.

Song Feng drew a breath. His forehead was soaked with cold sweat. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Shao Xiujie being helped aside by his men. The man had thrown himself in front of a gun for him. He wasn’t ungrateful, but this wasn’t the time to say anything. He glanced once more at Fu Shanming, who was being carefully lifted by his subordinates, clearly about to be taken away.

He could already guess who was behind it all. If he let Dian go now, he would never be able to accept it. But they still didn’t know what had happened to Xiao Mingxuan and the others. He couldn’t abandon their chance to survive.

A flash of pain passed through his eyes. There had been an explosion behind them just now. What was left, whether anyone had survived, he didn’t even dare imagine.

Shao Xiujie knew the best option now was to secure Dian. Song Feng was already wounded. He couldn’t afford any more distractions. He gave a few quick orders to his men. One of them stepped forward at once and pressed a gun to Dian’s temple.

Song Feng let out a long breath. Blood loss was making it hard to stay upright. His hand finally lowered, still gripping the gun, but his fingertips had started trembling from exhaustion. He didn’t let go, and he didn’t let it show. He knew they had lost the upper hand. Their best move now was to take this man and escape. But even so, he still couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Where is he?”

“In that house over there,” Dian said softly. “He was injured in the blast and can’t move easily. There’s only one person staying with him.”

Song Feng narrowed his eyes. Dian saw the look and quickly added, “I’m telling the truth. He’s underground. The switch is behind the wine rack. It’s oval-shaped. You’ll find it.”

A cold premonition flickered through Shao Xiujie’s chest. He said at once, “Xiao Feng, come with me to the hospital.”

Song Feng held his wound tightly. His eyes were so dark they were almost twisted. “I have to kill him myself. Take Dian and leave. Bring Fu Shanming with you. If you pass the way we came and see… if you see…”

He stopped. That same sharp pain flashed through his eyes again. He forced it down.

If there are any survivors, save them.

Shao Xiujie understood the rest even without it being said. He didn’t move. “Don’t be reckless. Look at the state you’re in.”

“He’s fine. That stab went between his organs. It missed everything vital,” Dian said calmly, looking toward Song Feng. “He wanted to kill you himself, but you were too skilled. So he figured he’d bleed you out a little first, then cripple your arm. But unfortunately…”

“Shut up,” Shao Xiujie snapped. “Xiao Feng, come with me.”

Song Feng didn’t answer. Truthfully, the injuries he suffered in the explosion in Russia had been far worse. Even then, he hadn’t backed down. Let alone now. That man had to die. He had to see it with his own eyes. That idea had taken root long ago, in those agonizing days, whispering to him constantly. Over time, it had become an obsession.

“Shao Xiujie. Leave.” Song Feng spoke softly, lifting his gun as he walked forward step by step.

Shao Xiujie struggled out of his subordinate’s grip, wanting to go after him. But after only two steps, a low voice cut in.

“You can go. We’re here now.”

Song Feng’s whole body jolted. His heart started pounding uncontrollably. Before he could react, someone pulled him from behind into a warm embrace.

That familiar presence pressed against his back. It was steady. It was safe. He could smell gunpowder and blood on the man. He turned his head, but given the angle, he could only see half of Xiao Mingxuan’s face. The man’s clothes were covered in ash. His arm was bloodstained. It was impossible to tell how bad the injury was.

His voice was hoarse. “Are you okay?” He paused. “What about the others?”

“I’m fine. Two others were injured. I had Xiaoyan take them to the hospital,” Xiao Mingxuan said.

Song Feng tensed. “Were they badly hurt?”

Xiao Mingxuan paused, then gave him the truth. “Xiaoyan was close to the blast. Duan Qing shielded him just in time and took the brunt of it. He’s in bad shape. The other one didn’t get clear either, but he’s better off than Duan Qing. They’re both at the hospital now.” He looked him over. “You’re really okay? Song Feng, don’t push it.”

Song Feng drew in a breath. “This time, I’m going to kill that scum.”

Xiao Mingxuan stilled. From what he had picked up over the comms earlier, he already had a rough idea. The enemy had used someone who looked like Song Feng’s former mentor to attack him. That alone proved the person behind this deserved to die. But he hadn’t expected Song Feng to say “scum.”

“You’re sure it’s him?”

Song Feng nodded. “Almost certain.”

Xiao Mingxuan knew exactly how deep Song Feng’s hatred ran. He knew there was no point trying to talk him down. So he reached out and ruffled his hair. “I’ll go with you. Once he’s dead, we head straight to the hospital.”

“Yeah.”

Shao Xiujie watched the way the two of them interacted. His expression darkened. That was all he saw before he turned and let his men help him away. He soon caught up to Fu Shanming up ahead. His eyes grew cold. This would be the perfect moment to kill him.

Fu Shanming’s eyes cleared. For once, they were calm. He lay still, awake enough to take in what was happening. When he met Shao Xiujie’s gaze, he understood. Then he looked away, closed his eyes, and said nothing.

His men noticed the tension and immediately grew alert, weapons half-raised.

Shao Xiujie kept staring at him. A dozen thoughts ran through his mind. He had fewer people with him than Fu Shanming, and he was still holding Dian. Fu Shanming had heavy influence here. If he made a move, there was no way he’d make it out alive.

He turned away and walked off without looking back.

Fu Shanming opened his eyes briefly and looked around. His gaze was still calm. Whatever he was thinking, it didn’t show. He didn’t look for long. His vision faded, and he passed out.

Xiao Mingxuan helped Song Feng inside. The lights in the living room were bright. Song Feng turned his head, finally getting a good look at him. Xiao Mingxuan was covered in blood. He looked far from unscathed. “You—”

“I’m fine. Just a minor wound,” Xiao Mingxuan said, expression steady. “Some of this is Duan Qing’s.”

Song Feng frowned and looked around. “Why are you alone? Where’s Xiao Bai?”

“I sent them on a separate mission,” Xiao Mingxuan said as he led him further inside. “Where is he?”

Song Feng’s brow furrowed even deeper. He couldn’t tell if Xiao Mingxuan was lying. He took a breath and decided not to waste time. “Look for the wine rack. The switch is oval-shaped…”

They turned the corner and stepped into the next room.

Then stopped cold.

Song Feng’s eyes locked on the screen mounted against the wall. His pupils twisted with fury. On the monitor sat a man, staring at him intently.

“Feng, you look beautiful when you’re like this. Sometimes I wonder how the person I loved, the person I hated, is living now. His teacher died because of him. Does he lie awake at night, unable to sleep, unable to eat, living every day in guilt and torment…”

The man shifted his posture, propping up his head with one hand. Half his face was covered in burn scars.

“Sometimes I think about it too,” he said. “You ruined me, turned me into this. And yet you get to live freely, charming everyone around you. So what am I supposed to do? I thought about it every single day. The more I thought, the more I suffered. I wanted to carve you into pieces. But then I figured that would be too easy on you. Eventually, I came up with a better idea. I’m going to eat you alive, Feng. Every inch of you. And then I’ll feed your bones to the dogs. How about that?”

Song Feng’s face contorted further. He looked ready to tear the man apart.

“Don’t be so impatient. Let me show you something fun first.”

He snapped his fingers.

The screen changed.

The man who had fled earlier appeared, tied up in the middle of an empty field, screaming. “Xiao Feng, help me! I don’t want to die!”

Song Feng narrowed his eyes. His hand clenched until the joints cracked.

The scum’s voice came again. “I told him to say that. I said if you begged me, I’d spare his life. So, Feng, what do you think? I know why you only destroyed his hand and didn’t kill him. It’s because you couldn’t pull the trigger on that face. But now what? You going to beg for him?”

Song Feng said nothing. He stared at the image, just about to say that man didn’t deserve that face—

Then a massive explosion shook the screen.

His pupils contracted.

The bomb strapped to the man went off. His body was blown to pieces.

Just like last time.

Song Feng’s legs gave out beneath him. His strength drained away.

Xiao Mingxuan caught him in time. His heart sank.

That man had done it on purpose. He had made Song Feng relive his mentor’s death. He deserved to die a thousand times.

“Feng,” the man said, holding up a detonator, “there are bombs planted all through the building you’re in. If you don’t want anyone else getting caught up in it, be good and come over. Otherwise—”

Song Feng froze.

Before he could respond, a familiar voice called out behind him.

“Ahem… uh…”

They turned.

Bai Xuyao stood there in a complete mess, arms full of wires and devices. He wiped the blood from his forehead, glanced at the screen, and blinked innocently.

“So, uh… if you mean these bombs… sorry. I already took care of them. The ones in the yard too. If you still want to blow something up, you’ll have to come reinstall them.”

The scum on the screen: “……”