Chapter 143: Thirteen Knives

Despair filled Zuotong’s eyes as he saw the two figures abandon him completely, just as Chen Ling appeared. However, when he saw Chen Ling ignore him and pursue Brother Jing and his companion, a glimmer of hope for survival ignited within him... As long as Chen Ling didn’t kill him, he still had a chance to live!

Zhao Yi’s gaze shifted from Chen Ling’s retreating back to the struggling figure beneath him. Zuotong was still gritting his teeth, wrestling against him, his face etched with a desperate will to live.

“Let me go... please, I beg you!” Zuotong’s face was utterly devoid of color. “I didn’t mean to kill your father... I, I just... I know I was wrong... If you let me go, I’ll give you my slot to enter Aurora City! Truly!”

The slot to enter Aurora City was Zuotong’s most valuable possession, his only leverage. While gaining entry to Aurora City was crucial, dying here and now would render that slot meaningless. The slot represented a path to survival and a bright future. He didn’t believe Zhao Yi, a commoner, could resist such a powerful temptation.

Zhao Yi’s eyes narrowed. “You want to live?”

“Yes, I do!!”

“Alright,” Zhao Yi said ominously. “If you can withstand thirteen stabs from me, I’ll let you go.”

As he spoke, Zhao Yi tore free from Zuotong’s grasp and thrust the blade downward, plunging it into Zuotong’s lower abdomen.

“That’s the second stab.”

Excruciating pain caused Zuotong’s body to curl up like a shrimp. He weakly released Zhao Yi’s hands, letting out a piteous wail.

Zhao Yi pulled the blade free, crimson blood dripping from the tip onto Zuotong’s body. Before Zuotong could react, Zhao Yi plunged it in again, beneath his ribs.

“Third stab!”

Warm blood splattered across Zhao Yi’s face, his eyes now bloodshot. He was no longer a mere street thug from Frost Street but a vengeful specter risen from hell.

After several more stabs, Zuotong had completely lost the ability to resist. Zhao Yi had deliberately avoided vital organs with these blows, so despite enduring so many wounds, Zuotong was still alive, albeit deathly pale.

Eight stabs, nine stabs, ten stabs, eleven stabs...

Zhao Yi roared, plunging the same knife that had taken his father’s life into his enemy’s body, again and again. Zuotong wailed in agony, but Zhao Yi’s actions showed no hesitation. When the blade was withdrawn from Zuotong for the twelfth time, Zuotong was barely clinging to life.

“Just one more... stab,” Zuotong, his remaining eye fixed on Zhao Yi, pleaded weakly, “Spare... me...”

“Spare you?” Zhao Yi panted heavily. He raised the short knife high, speaking slowly, word by word, “You dog, did you... spare my father back then?”

The blood-stained short knife descended without mercy.

The blade plunged directly into Zuotong’s neck. Blood gushed out, his windpipe severed simultaneously. Zuotong’s eyes widened suddenly, and moments later, he stopped breathing.

After delivering the final stab, Zhao Yi seemed to lose all his strength and collapsed onto the snow nearby. Blood also flowed from his own wounds, slowly staining the white snow beneath him...

This was Zhao Yi’s first kill. Beyond a slight nausea, what he felt most was the exhilarating satisfaction of having avenged a profound wrong.

Just then, as if remembering something, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet, spitting heavily onto Zuotong’s corpse.

“Go to hell!”

As Zhao Yi turned around, he saw a figure in red standing calmly beside him.

“Chen Ling... I did it!” Zhao Yi said weakly. “I avenged my father... all thirteen stabs, I returned every single one!”

Chen Ling didn't reply. He glanced at the sky above; under the hazy night, there was no sign of any stars.

“...Hmm,” Chen Ling finally said, withdrawing his gaze. “You did very well.”

Zhao Yi felt he should smile, but he couldn’t manage it. He gazed at the corpse on the ground, riddled with thirteen stab wounds, his lips pressed into a thin line, lost in silence.

All the law enforcers on the train had been systematically hunted down and killed by Chen Ling. He walked back along the railway tracks towards the vehicle.

A figure, dragging a steel sword, was stumbling towards him.

“Chen Ling...”

It was Xi Renjie, who had surprisingly managed to free himself from the steel sword that had pinned him to the carriage. This came as a surprise to Chen Ling.

“I said I’d return the favor, as you once spared me,” Chen Ling stated calmly, looking at the pale figure. “Everyone else has been killed by me. There’s no point in you looking for me now.”

Xi Renjie’s eyes held a bitter expression as he observed the scattered corpses nearby. He had anticipated this outcome the moment Chen Ling pinned him to the train.

“Chen Ling... I have one last question,” Xi Renjie said hoarsely.

“Ask.”

“In your eyes, was everything I’ve done... completely wrong?”

Xi Renjie stared at him, his eyes filled with endless struggle and confusion. His pupils reflected the despairing flames of the Third District, the scattered corpses of law enforcers, and the dark railway line stretching all the way to Aurora City.

Chen Ling remained silent for a long moment before speaking slowly:

“It’s not about right or wrong; merely different standpoints.”

Upon hearing this, Xi Renjie instinctively countered, “Then what is *your* standpoint? Is it Aurora City? Or the people of the Third District?”

“Aurora City, or the common people, who is right or wrong among you, how many will die, or who deserves to die—none of that holds any meaning for me...” Chen Ling paused briefly. “It’s like a play in which I have no part. No matter how you squabble and fight, my own script has only one ending...”

“To reverse the era, to reset the world.”

Xi Renjie paused, then smiled faintly, a hint of resignation in it.

“I almost forgot... you’re with the Twilight Society.”

Having received the answer he sought, Xi Renjie seemed to feel significantly lighter. He took a deep breath and, without further delay, walked into the thick fog, alone, carrying the blood-stained steel sword.

This time, he had no train and no accompanying law enforcers... He could only rely on his own feet to reach Aurora City.

Just then, Chen Ling’s voice suddenly rang out:

“Pass a message to Aurora City for me.”

Xi Renjie stopped, turning back with a puzzled look.

Chen Ling, dressed in red, stood in the thin mist, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

“They wish to bar me from entry, but I won’t grant them that satisfaction... Tell Aurora City that I, Chen Ling, will personally come knocking.”