Most of the people in the market kept their distance. Among the crowd stood a middle-aged man in a leather coat, looking wealthy and surprised, accompanied by two swordmasters. He stared at Aiden Shen, who was crouched beside the corpse.
"Master, that kid..."
"Hmm. Quick and precise, such skill... But it looks like trouble is brewing."
Aiden Shen searched the bodies on the ground and took all the money, then slowly walked over to the slave girl. She stared at him in terror, her hands trembling uncontrollably.
"Take this."
Aiden Shen handed the bag full of money to the woman, then stood up. The crowd quickly scattered and retreated into the shop, fear etched on every face.
The town was controlled by a gang of local thugs who committed every crime imaginable. Each year, they bribed the officials, so no one dared interfere with their actions. Merchants who paid enough were treated like honored guests, but the poor usually met a tragic fate.
The crowd swelled, and a group of bullies gradually surrounded Aiden Shen. Leading them was a man in his forties, face marked by two knife scars, wearing gold and silver. Five or six swordmasters followed him.
"Where did this wild brat come from, daring to cause trouble on my turf?"
Aiden Shen did not back down, gripping his sword. Nearly a hundred people had him completely surrounded. One sly-looking man leaned in to whisper something to the leader.
"Kid, you managed to take down eight of my men—I'll give you that. You got your eye on that woman behind you? If you want her, she's yours. With your skills, why not join me? I promise you'll eat well and dress well."
Aiden Shen neither nodded nor shook his head. He simply watched the crowd, ready for anyone to pounce at any moment.
"Now would be a good time to agree. Ah, what a pity... what a pity..."
The wealthy-looking middle-aged man in the crowd sighed.
"Hey, didn't you hear what our boss said, kid?"
A few thugs swaggered over to Aiden Shen, grinning and carelessly brandishing their weapons.
In a flash, Aiden Shen struck like lightning. His sword found its mark in the vital spots of each man around him, and bodies fell to the ground instantly.
A chorus of screams erupted. The woman clung to Aiden Shen's leg in terror, while the would-be attackers froze, their eyes wide with fear. In just a moment, several more corpses lay at Aiden's feet.
The sky was dark and thunder rumbled, streaks of lightning flashing overhead.
"Kill him."
With a chorus of shouts, the mob surrounding Aiden Shen surged forward. Aiden grabbed the woman with one hand and charged toward the thinnest part of the crowd.
Several thugs wielding weapons didn’t even have time to react before they were already sprawled on the ground, steel clattering. Aiden raised his sword and hacked a bloody path, bursting into a shop and shoving the woman toward the staircase.
"Go upstairs."
The woman, panic-stricken, scrambled up the stairs. Inside the shop, people began to wail, clutching their heads and crouching in the corners, while the thugs poured in like a raging tide.
With two swift slashes, the two men who’d just entered collapsed—one clutching his chest, the other his throat. The ones behind them froze at the doorway, eyes wide with terror, inching forward only in hesitant steps.
Aiden gave no one the chance to circle behind him—his sword rose and fell, the crimson blade claiming life after life.
The entire shop was surrounded. Aiden retreated step by step, the sword in his hand light and lethally sharp.
A few men tried to climb in through the window, but immediately tumbled out with whimpers. Aiden lunged, flicking aside the weapons of two attackers, then swept his blade left and right—both men went flying, collapsing in pools of blood.
More than twenty lay dead already. Those outside dared not set foot inside. Aiden’s body was slightly bent, one hand bracing his sword, his gaze feral and beastlike as he stared down the men before him.
A voice echoed relentlessly in his mind: Kill them all.
Thunder rumbled incessantly, lightning flashing again and again, bathing everything inside the shop in a ghastly white. The rain finally began to fall, thick droplets pounding down in torrents.
With a roar, Aiden burst out, sword swinging. The men at the door looked up, startled by the sudden downpour, but when they looked back at Aiden, they were already falling backward.
"Don't panic! Surround him! Whoever kills him gets 100 gold!"
The shout rang clear through the rain, spreading quickly despite its low volume. The thugs surged toward Aiden all at once.
Blood splattered, mixing with the rain. Mud flew up from the ground as Aiden fought in the downpour, unleashing all his fury. Images kept flashing through his mind.
The devastation in his tribe: his father shielding him with his body before dying, his mother screaming as she was dragged away, men falling one after another, the old and young unable even to flee, the women doomed to be ravaged and then killed.
All of it was etched deep in Aiden's heart—seared into his bones. He relived it over and over.
With a sharp crack, the thug’s wooden club snapped in half, his head lolling to the side, hanging by a strip of skin. The chill of the rain made Aiden more alert. How many times had he asked himself why he was always so powerless when faced with such horrors?
For years, these memories haunted him like nightmares. He could only train—obsessively honing his swordsmanship and strengthening his body, never relaxing, collapsing into sleep each night after practice.
Aiden threw his head back and roared, rain lashing his face and washing over his body.
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He had no idea how long he'd been swinging his sword, but Aiden showed no sign of fatigue. The thugs around him gradually came to their senses—some began to flee, while others, when forced to face Aiden, collapsed in the mud after a single clash, his blade swiftly slitting their throats.
The situation had completely reversed—the thugs and hoodlums now scattered in panic. Only the swordsmen near their leader finally moved, cautiously seeking an opening.
But it was all futile. Against Aiden’s sword, no one could withstand even a single blow.
"Spare me! Spare—"
With a single stroke, the man before him collapsed. Aiden broke into a run, chasing down the fleeing thugs, his sword stabbing out again and again.
The leader’s face grew paler and paler. He shouted hoarsely through the rain.
"Whoever kills him, I'll pay 1,000 gold! 2,000! 3,000—"
But he was already alone. Aiden had vanished, chasing after the fleeing men.
The rain began to ease. The whole street was stained red, corpses strewn everywhere. A flash of lightning lit up the scene, thunder crashing. The leader turned in terror—Aiden was approaching, step by step.
"What do you want?"
A bolt of lightning illuminated everything in harsh white. The leader screamed, staring at the sword aimed at his throat and at Aiden’s smiling face—a smile twisted, almost excited.
"For justice."
With a ripping sound, Aiden’s sword pierced the leader’s throat. The man stared blankly at his coin pouch, holding it out to Aiden as if to buy his life at the last moment.
Blood splashed; Aiden withdrew his sword and looked up. The rain had stopped completely, and a hole opened in the clouds, sunlight streaming down. A pure, radiant smile appeared on his face.
His whole body was drenched in blood. Aiden shook his head and walked into a shop; inside, the people stared at him in terror.
"Boss, give me your best wine and meat."
The shopkeeper, trembling, hurriedly ordered his staff to bring plenty of wine and meat, refusing to take Aiden’s money. After leaving some coins, Aiden packed the food and drink, slung the bundle over his shoulder, and left.
A strange silence settled over the street. No one knew where this boy, who’d killed so many, had come from or what he wanted—why he’d slaughtered so many.
There was no explanation. Aiden walked away. Suddenly, footsteps echoed—the woman he’d saved ran over, crying and thanking him again and again. Aiden simply nodded, smiled, and left.
"You two, follow him. Whatever happens, I want to know who that boy is."
A portly, well-dressed middle-aged man spoke up in the crowd. The two swordsmen beside him exchanged glances, then followed after Aiden.
As soon as Aiden left the town, the marketplace buzzed with activity again. Aiden stopped and looked coldly over his shoulder.
"Don’t follow me."
Just four words, and the swordsmen stopped, swallowing nervously as they watched Aiden leave. The portly man approached.
"You two can go back. I’ll handle this myself."
Aiden kept smiling as he walked. Moments ago, it felt like a beast was roaring inside him, but now that beast was quiet.
The sun was setting. Aiden sped up, running.
Soon, the middle-aged man followed on horseback, carefully tracking Aiden’s footprints, daring only to pursue with caution.
"I think I heard that kid say, 'For justice.' Heh..."
The middle-aged man chuckled, then shook his head in resignation.
Night had fallen. By the faint moonlight, Aiden found the village. Entering, he glanced up at the hillside—no lights. Worried, he broke into a run.