Luck, But No Way to Destroy the Corpses

The silver wire was tough and resilient, no need to say more. Prince Damien of Southlyn reached out to grab it—like striking stone with an egg. With a hiss, as he clutched the silver coin, the wire sliced open both his hands, blood streaming from his palms...

Prince Damien gasped in pain but didn't dare let go. Serena stood behind him, watching the scene unfold with an unusually sweet smile.

If Prince Damien turned around, he'd realize Serena was getting closer and closer to him.

"Zhi zhi zhi..." The wire tightened, and Damien's face grew uglier by the second. The silver wire was already embedded in his flesh; if this kept up, it would slice his palms clean through.

"Serena, just you wait!" Damien's face twisted in agony, gripping the silver wire with all his strength, trying to tear it apart—only to shred his own hands even worse.

"Wait? I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for me on the road to the underworld, Prince Damien." Serena drew out a fresh surgical scalpel, its blade glittering in the sunlight.

Damien sensed something was wrong and turned his head, only to see—

Serena holding the scalpel, standing right behind him—just a single step away. Her blade was aimed straight at his forehead; one strike and he wouldn’t even have time to cry for help.

"No—" Damien’s eyes widened in pure terror, just like anyone facing death: fear and panic, nothing else.

"Prince Damien—gone!" Serena raised her cup and stepped forward.

Originally, she’d planned to stab Damien at the crown of his head, but now she had to change her target—aiming for his heart instead.

"No—!" Damien panicked, stopped fighting the wire, and tried to shove Serena away. But Serena was ready; she dodged aside, then lunged onto Damien, driving the scalpel straight into his heart.

At that exact moment, the silver wire tightened again, but Damien’s luck held—he wasn’t caught by it.

The scalpel’s blade was small; it sank completely into Damien’s chest, but only a little blood spilled out, leaving a wound that wasn’t very large. Killing Damien with just this stab? Impossible.

As a doctor, Serena knew exactly where to cut for an instant kill. Stabbing Damien in the chest like this wouldn’t take his life—it was just to frighten him, make him forget to fight back.

Serena quickly withdrew the scalpel, blood welling from the wound. With the blade still in hand, she slashed for Damien’s throat—

This was her real goal. If she severed the artery in Damien’s neck with one cut, he’d be dead in moments.

The blade had already sliced Damien’s throat, but just as Serena was about to go further, footsteps sounded nearby.

"Someone’s coming!" Serena froze, her hand pausing mid-action. The ferocity of her attack had left Damien so stunned he forgot how to react, but now he snapped out of it. Somehow, he found the strength to shove Serena away, then rolled himself across the ground, escaping in another direction.

"Damn it!" Serena cursed, regret burning inside her. Watching Damien roll away, covered in blood, she bit her lip, stowed the Tiger Claw Grappling Hook, and instead of chasing, tore a strip from her skirt to bind her wounded leg. Staggering, she limped off in another direction.

Even if Damien survived, he was now a cripple—no need for her to risk more.

Damien happened to collapse into a pit. Looking up, he caught sight of Serena’s fleeing figure, shaking with fury.

Serena, you got away fast!

Good thing Serena ran quickly—otherwise, she’d almost certainly have ended up in Damien’s hands again. The footsteps she’d heard were from Damien’s men.

A group of eight men rushed up to Damien. He was so badly injured he couldn’t speak, only able to point his blood-soaked hand toward Serena’s escape route, mumbling incoherently.

Four stayed behind to tend to Damien, while the other four chased after Serena.

Normally, with her injured leg, Serena shouldn’t have been able to run fast. These four thought catching her would be easy—but they underestimated her.

Just as Damien hadn’t expected Serena to have a deadly weapon, these four never imagined she’d also have knockout powder.

Unlucky for them, the four were knocked out by the powder. Serena, still frustrated at not killing Damien, vented her anger on these four.

Her sharp scalpel swept across their throats; blood spurted out in gushes. The wounds were deep—these four wouldn’t last long.

"Too bad Damien got away, but he’s a cripple now—no matter how fierce he is, it’s useless." Serena wiped her scalpel clean; its edge was nicked, proof of how hard she’d struck.

This wasn’t Serena’s first time killing, so she felt no psychological pressure. She took the four lives easily, then rummaged through their clothes for loose silver.

Traveling alone, you can’t go anywhere without money.

As for the four corpses, they were a headache. If she left them here, Damien’s men would quickly realize she’d escaped and send more after her. But she really didn’t know how to deal with them.

She’d love to destroy the bodies, but she didn’t have the strength. Forget about corpse-dissolving potions—she wasn’t Dr. Marcus Guile, and she definitely didn’t have anything like that.

As for dismembering them?

Ugh...

She could dissect corpses for medical study without flinching, but dismembering bodies was a whole different story—she honestly couldn’t do it. It was just too revolting; she wasn’t that much of a psycho.

"Forget it, I’ll leave them a whole corpse each."

She didn’t have time to waste here—Damien was still nearby, and her leg needed urgent bandaging. Instead of agonizing over how to destroy the evidence, it was far more practical to just run.

Filthy all over, covered in blood and grime, her left foot a bloody mess—there wasn’t a single clean spot on Serena. The stench of blood clung to her, detectable from a distance.

Looking like this, if an ordinary person ran into her, they’d either beat her to death or drag her to the authorities. But luck was on Serena’s side—she ran into a band of jianghu women.

A group of twelve, all in pale violet dresses—each elegant and striking, with a graceful, unworldly air. Serena saw them from afar and tried to hide, but they spotted her instantly.

No chance of escape; she could only grit her teeth and face them head-on.

Serena stood her ground, quietly sizing up the women. They looked somewhat harsh, each cold and aloof, but none radiated murderous intent.

Though these twelve seemed difficult, seeing Serena wounded, they became unexpectedly helpful: "Miss, are you all right?"

"I... help me..." Unsure who they were and unwilling to reveal her strength, Serena simply closed her eyes and pretended to faint.

She refused to believe her luck was so rotten she’d end up back in Damien’s hands.

Even if these women really were Damien’s people, she’d have to accept it. In her current state, she couldn’t beat all twelve—honestly, even at her best, she wouldn’t stand a chance.