Extra: When the Boy Rode a Bamboo Horse, Green Plums Brewed Wine (12)

Left Shore's skills were already superior, while Beanie had exhausted himself to the limit—could he possibly win?

The answer was obviously no...

By the time Beanie dragged the heavy sword to the training ground, he was already out of breath. Was Left Shore going to wait for him to recover before starting?

Left Shore wasn't Beanie. He didn't care about being the top fighter, nor did he bother with fairness. In Left Shore's world, only victory mattered, because...

For an assassin, losing meant losing your life!

Left Shore hated losing, so he'd use every means to win. As for complaints about being unfair?

Heh... What a joke. Did you really think everyone was as clueless as Beanie? Asking an assassin to fight fair is basically asking him to quit.

If an assassin played fair with you, how would he ever finish a job? If he had to stick to fairness, could he even call himself an assassin?

A swordsman who kills openly is called a hero, not an assassin. As an aspiring assassin, Left Shore could admire Beanie's sense of honor and pursuit of fairness, but he'd never follow it himself...

Beanie came in drenched in sweat, breathing unevenly—anyone could see he wasn't in shape. But what did that matter to Left Shore? He didn't give Beanie a moment's rest and launched straight into the attack...

This time, he decided Beanie should get a taste of rolling all over the ground.

Of course, Left Shore was nothing like that fool Beanie—he wouldn’t roll around together with him. Left Shore yanked off Beanie’s belt, tied one end around Beanie’s waist, and held the other end himself…

With a kick, he sent Beanie rolling across the ground, then hauled him back, kicked him out again, and repeated the process…

“Left Shore, you’re amazing.” The disciples watching the spectacle all gave Left Shore a thumbs-up when they saw his move.

Left Shore’s move was powerful—it could torment Beanie half to death, but wouldn’t cause any serious injury. Even if the Seven Old Monsters wanted to punish him, they couldn’t…

“Left Shore, you’re ruthless!”

“Let me go, Left Shore! If you’ve got guts, fight me again!”

“Using such sneaky tricks—what kind of hero are you? If you’re really brave, let’s fight one-on-one!”

At first, Beanie still had the energy to shout, but Left Shore ignored him and kept kicking him over and over until even the onlookers couldn’t bear to watch…

Sigh, if only they’d brought some snacks—they could eat while pretending not to watch. Poor Beanie…

“Left Shore…” Beanie’s cries grew weaker and weaker. After dozens of rounds, he was completely spent and began to beg for mercy: “Left—Left Shore, let go.”

“Left Shore, I was wrong, I was wrong—I give up.”

“Left Shore, did you hear me? I give up! I don’t want to fight anymore.”

...

“Fight if you want, quit if you want? Dream on.” Left Shore, thinking of the lashes to come, had no intention of letting Beanie off—he wanted payback with interest…

Kick out, haul back…

Beanie had no idea how many times he’d rolled on the ground. It didn’t hurt, but he was horribly dizzy…

Beanie was seeing stars, his mind unable to think—he could only call Left Shore’s name, and his voice grew weaker…

“He’s so pitiful—I can’t bear to watch.” One senior brother wiped away imaginary wolf tears, his lips curling in amusement.

He wasn’t the only one—everyone enjoyed the spectacle, but outwardly put on sympathetic faces. Of course…

None of them would interfere or stop Left Shore. Beanie wouldn’t die, just suffer a bit, and compared to the punishment Left Shore would face, Beanie’s suffering was nothing…

Left Shore had to be ruthless. Beanie was already a mess, but Left Shore had no plans to let him go, and kept tormenting him until…

Wah… Beanie threw up!

Yes, Beanie was so dizzy and miserable that he vomited everything in his stomach, then passed out with his face buried in the mess…

“So pitiful.” Left Shore finally showed mercy and let Beanie go.

Of course, Left Shore wasn’t about to kindly help Beanie up—he didn’t even look at him, just dusted off his hands and walked away. As for the spectators…

They said they couldn’t bear to watch any longer.

Too tragic!

Too cruel!

Poor Beanie, you shouldn’t have crossed Left Shore. We’ll light a row of candles for you…

After giving Beanie a sympathetic look, everyone left—no one helped him up, just let him lie in the mess.

Getting hurt in the Assassin Alliance is routine. To them, Left Shore was merciful—he didn’t cripple Beanie or make him bleed.

Not just Beanie’s fellow disciples—even the Seven Old Monsters of the Assassin Alliance thought Left Shore was merciful this time. They couldn’t even decide how to punish him…

Beanie only had a few bruises—such minor injuries weren’t worth punishing Left Shore over. But…

Beanie wasn’t seriously hurt, but he suffered terribly—he lay in bed for two days before waking, and after that, threw up anything he ate…

“Left Shore, you’re a villain—I hate you, I hate you! I’m going to beat you one day, just wait.” Beanie counted the days for a week before he could eat again, but…

Wuwuwu… it still hurts so much. Everything he saw seemed to be spinning.

“Left Shore is so mean.” Beanie clutched his bowl, crying nonstop. But…

It wasn’t all bad—at least after Beanie recovered, he made a major decision…