Dead-Men and the Sutton Manor Extermination

Lady Min knew exactly how important Vincent Su was. To prevent any accidents, she sent out the dead-men she had personally trained over the years.

These dead-men were first-rate in both strength and loyalty—Lady Min trusted them above all others. With them handling the job, she felt completely at ease.

The dead-men lived up to her expectations. As the city’s Imperial Guards rushed to the gates, the black-clad dead-men strode openly down the main streets, utterly unconcerned with anyone’s gaze.

Ordinary commoners scattered at the sight. No matter how bold, no one dared get close—only covert agents lurking in the Capital dared to tail them, and even then only from a distance, watching as the dead-men moved as if through an empty domain, heading straight for Sutton Manor.

Bang—without a hint of courtesy, a black-clad dead-man kicked open Sutton Manor’s main gate. The startled gatekeeper rushed forward, but before he could speak, the dead-man swung his blade down.

Splatter—the hot blood sprayed out, splashing across the vermilion doors and slowly dripping down...

The dead-man didn’t spare the gatekeeper a glance. With a heavy thud, he shut the doors behind him. Aside from the blood on the stone steps, no one outside had any clue what was happening within.

"This is bad—something’s happened at Sutton Manor! Hurry, go find Miss Tong!" The Feng Manor spy had tailed the group all the way to Sutton Manor; seeing this, he immediately rushed off to get help.

"The Su family’s in trouble—quick, send the signal and call for rescue!" The spies were clever, but mere mortals; none dared storm in, so they could only wait for reinforcements.

Outside Sutton Manor, signal flares shot up one after another. Inside, the black-clad dead-men advanced unhindered—ordinary guards were no match at all. By the time the shadow guards appeared, the dead-men had already slaughtered their way into the inner compound.

The black-clad dead-men killed gods if they met gods, Buddhas if they met Buddhas—swift, ruthless, true killers who didn’t even blink. Even jianghu assassins couldn’t compare to their cruelty.

"Master, master, there are intruders—" The servant had barely finished his warning when a black-clad dead-man rushed in, cleaving him in two with a single strike. Blood sprayed all over the Su brothers.

Vincent Su and Ethan Su Wenhang happened to be together. Ethan froze in terror at the sight, but Vincent quickly regained his composure, shielding Ethan as he backed away.

The dead-man advanced without a flicker of emotion, raising his blade to strike at both Vincent and Ethan. It seemed certain the brothers would die—until, out of nowhere, a hidden expert burst forth, intercepting the fatal blow and saving Vincent at the last second.

"Go!" The man protecting Vincent was his most loyal bodyguard, someone who always stayed by his side. Vincent wasn’t surprised to see him. As the guard held off the dead-man, Vincent grabbed Ethan and ran toward the rear garden.

By now, Ethan had snapped out of his daze. He struggled free: "Big brother, put me down, I can run on my own."

Vincent himself was a frail scholar type—he couldn’t carry a boy Ethan’s size for long. Now that Ethan could run, Vincent was more than relieved.

Clutching Ethan’s hand, Vincent hurried toward the rockery in the rear garden. His face was grim, sweat beading densely at his nose—he was that tense.

The moment the dead-men appeared, Vincent knew disaster had struck. These black-clad killers were clearly elite—no ordinary person could hire such professionals. With just one look, Vincent was certain: this wasn’t some business vendetta.

They didn’t say a word, just killed on sight—their target was obviously him. Who could send so many elite killers after him? Only one answer: Liancastle’s people.

His connection with Prince Nolan wasn’t exactly a secret, but to most people, Vincent Su was just a merchant who made money for Prince Nolan.

Ordinary folks never paid attention to a minor figure like him—only Liancastle’s people knew his true identity and what he really did for Prince Nolan.

Images flashed through Vincent’s mind, but his steps never faltered. He led Ethan straight to the entrance of the secret passage.

In just a moment, Vincent had sorted things out and decided what to do next.

"Ethan, listen to your brother." Vincent stopped, pressing both hands on Ethan’s shoulders, his face dark, eyes a little wild.

Whether Ethan was listening or not, Vincent spoke quickly: "Ethan, this tunnel leads to Feng Manor. Once inside, keep to the right until you reach the top. Look up—there’ll be a notch overhead. Press it hard and the exit will open. When you reach Feng Manor, find Spring or Mira and have them take you into the palace to stay with Feng Jin. That’s the safest place I can think of."

With Zuo An there, no one can touch you.

"What about you, big brother?" Ethan’s small frame trembled as he forced himself to stay calm, his voice shaking as he questioned Vincent.

No killers had come here yet—his brother could easily escape with him.

A flash of sorrow crossed Vincent’s eyes, but he didn’t let Ethan see. He quickly turned away, forcing a smile: "You go first. I’ll catch up with you soon."

"You’re lying, big brother." Ethan wasn’t stupid—he could tell Vincent had other plans. In a panic, Ethan broke free and grabbed Vincent’s hand tightly: "Let’s go together."

"Ethan, I have things to handle. I can’t leave with you. Be good—go to Feng Manor and get help. I’ll wait here for you to bring reinforcements." Vincent’s eyes reddened as he pressed Ethan’s shoulders, not letting him move. But his hands trembled nonstop...

He wanted to escape too—but he couldn’t. Beneath Sutton Manor lay many secret chambers, packed with critical documents. He couldn’t let outsiders get their hands on them. Even if he had to flee, he had to clean up everything first—he couldn’t bring trouble down on Prince Nolan.

He also had to warn his hidden subordinates to scatter fast. Whether these attackers were sent by Liancastle or not, they clearly knew too much—he couldn’t let his people die for nothing.

"Ethan, listen to me—go, now..."

"Big brother..." Tears welled in Ethan’s eyes; with a blink, they spilled down his cheeks.

He wasn’t a child anymore—he could sense Vincent was doing something huge. He couldn’t help, but he also couldn’t drag Vincent down. So he didn’t say, 'I won’t leave.'

"Don’t cry, Ethan. I’ll be fine." A man’s tears don’t fall easily—unless his heart is breaking. Vincent didn’t sob, but his tears fell like broken beads, one after another.

Behind them, a rush of footsteps—Vincent knew the black-clad killers were closing in. No time for sorrow; he took the command token from his neck and hung it around Ethan’s.

"Ethan, you must keep this token safe. If I don’t make it, show it to Prince Nolan and tell him I’ve put everything where the token can access it—he can retrieve it himself."

Vincent was giving his last instructions. Hearing this, Ethan’s face went deathly pale...