RNP Chapter 126 Court Held, Execution Begins!
Chapter 126 Court Held, Execution Begins!
Chapter 126 Court Held, Execution Begins!
Luo Tianhong's appearance surprised everyone.
"Kill him!" someone shouted, and the four or five people closest to him were the first to charge forward with their knives!
Luo Tianhong remained expressionless as the eight-sided Han sword he had been holding in his arms was finally drawn!
"Procedure-!"
The clear, resonant sound of the sword was like the roar of a dragon!
A streak of cold light, like a bolt of lightning, suddenly appeared in the dimly lit corridor!
There are no complicated moves, only speed, accuracy, and ruthlessness!
The sword flashed like lightning, disappearing in an instant.
The two men at the front, their machetes still raised high in the air, already had thin lines of blood on their throats. Then, they coughed up blood and collapsed to the ground, clutching their necks.
A third man swung his sword, but Luo Tianhong dodged to the side. His Han sword then slashed back, the tip precisely piercing the tendon in the man's wrist. The man screamed and dropped his weapon. Luo Tianhong flicked his wrist, the blade striking the man's temple, stunning him.
The fourth and fifth attackers arrived simultaneously, one slashing at the head, the other stabbing at the abdomen. Instead of retreating, Luo Tianhong advanced, his Han sword drawing a strange arc. He first parried the decapitating blow, then the hilt slammed into the man's chest, sending him flying backward, coughing up blood. At the same time, the sword tip, like a venomous snake, shattered the elbow joint of the other attacker's knife-wielding hand!
In the blink of an eye, five people fell to the ground, some dead and others seriously injured!
The rest of the people in the corridor were stunned by his terrifying skill and ruthless swordsmanship, and for a moment they dared not step forward.
Luo Tianhong flicked the blood off the tip of his sword, his gaze piercing through the crowd and locking onto Big D, whose face was deathly pale, standing at the doorway.
Body.
"Those who block my way shall die."
"Go! Go all at him! He's all alone! What are you afraid of!" Big D roared in the room.
A great reward always brings forth brave men, or rather, even desperate situations can bring out ferocity. The remaining twenty or so men exchanged glances, let out a shout, and surged towards Luo Tianhong from all sides like a tidal wave! A forest of blades flashed, their determination to tear this killing god to pieces!
Despite the attack from all sides, Luo Tianhong's eyes remained as cold as iron. The eight-sided Han sword in his hand seemed to come alive, transforming into a wandering ball of light!
Chop, thrust, parry, smear, point, strike, intercept, twist—basic sword techniques unleash terrifying destructive power in his hands. Wherever the sword flashes, someone screams and falls to the ground. His movements are even more unpredictable, weaving and dodging through narrow corridors and crowded places, often avoiding fatal attacks at the last second, while his sword always seems to strike from the most unexpected angles, taking away an arm, a wound, or a life.
This is not a battle, it is a one-sided massacre!
The sword is a weapon, and swordsmanship is the art of killing. Luo Tianhong embodies this perfectly. His swordsmanship is devoid of any superfluous flourishes; every strike is designed to incapacitate or kill the enemy as quickly and effectively as possible.
Screams, the cracking of bones, the stabs of blades into flesh, the thuds of bodies falling to the ground—all intertwined to create a bloody symphony of death.
The strong smell of blood instantly filled the entire third-floor corridor.
When Luo Tianhong stopped, his suit was splattered with blood, but his hand holding the sword remained steady. There were no longer any enemies standing before him.
The last twenty-odd loyalists of Big D all lay in pools of blood, groaning, convulsing, or already lifeless. The corridor floor was almost entirely stained red with blood.
Carrying a blood-dripping Han sword, Luo Tianhong stepped over the wounded and corpses scattered on the ground and arrived at the door of the room where Da D was.
Inside the room, Big D leaned against his desk, his hand gripping a machete tightly, but his grip was trembling uncontrollably. His face had lost its previous madness and ruthlessness, leaving only boundless fear and despair. Looking at the murderous figure at the doorway, a figure seemingly emerging from a sea of blood, and into those emotionless eyes, he finally understood the insurmountable chasm that separated him from Song Zhaowen.
Not to mention Song Zhaowen himself, even one of his subordinates, Luo Tianhong, was someone that his Great D could not contend with.
"You—you stay away—" Big D roared fiercely.
Luo Tianhong ignored him and stepped into the room. In his eyes, Da D was nothing but a loser.
Big D roared, mustered his last bit of courage, and swung his knife at Luo Tianhong!
This strike, unleashed in fury, used all his strength and was quite powerful.
Luo Tianhong merely shifted his body slightly, the machete grazing past Da D's chest. In the instant the blade's momentum dissipated and Da D's defenses were wide open, Luo Tianhong's Han sword, like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, moved with incredible speed, leaving only a blur, and precisely pierced Da D's wrist holding the blade!
"Ah~" Big D screamed and let go, the machete clattering to the ground.
With a flick of his wrist, Luo Tianhong severed Big D's tendons. Then, he kicked Big D hard in the abdomen.
Big D grunted, curled up like a shrimp, and flew backward, crashing heavily into the desk behind him, scattering the items on the desk. He then rolled to the ground, curled up in pain, unable to get up again.
Luo Tianhong stepped forward, the tip of his sword pressed against Da D's throat. With just a slight push, this once-powerful figure from Wo Luen Shing and one of the founders of Kwong Wo Tai would die instantly.
"You're lucky, Brother Wen said he'll spare your life." Luo Tianhong's icy voice rang out, "But from now on, you'll only be able to eat with this hand."
After saying that, he sheathed his sword, no longer looking at Big D groaning on the ground like a dead dog, turned around and walked out of the room. Facing the stairs, he said in a low but clear voice, "Brother Wen, all cleaned up."
Downstairs, Song Zhaowen stubbed out his cigar and smiled slightly at Le Shao beside him: "Le Shao, I'll leave the follow-up to you. Big D is in your hands now."
Looking at Luo Tianhong, who was covered in blood but had a calm expression, as he walked out of the teahouse, and listening to the faint groans coming from upstairs, Le Shao couldn't help but swallow hard, his awe of Song Zhaowen deepening even further.
Fortunately, they are allies, not enemies.
"Don't worry, Mr. Song, I'll handle this perfectly!"
Song Zhaowen nodded and turned to walk towards his car.
Overnight, the landscape of Hong Kong changed once again.
Guanghetai vanished like smoke.
Song Zhaowen, riding the wave of thunder, has returned as a king. His brilliance, ruthlessness, and the strength of his subordinates have made the entire martial arts world take notice.
Three o'clock in the morning.
Tsz Wan Shan is a place of great prosperity.
The ancestral hall, which usually stood empty and solemn after nightfall, was now brightly lit and bustling with people. The air was filled with the strong scent of sandalwood, but it couldn't mask the faint, rusty smell of blood.
In the center of the hall stood three armchairs. One was empty, symbolizing the deceased former head of the entourage; in the other sat the Second Route Marshal, Uncle Yuan, with his white hair and beard and an imposing presence. He had a blanket covering his legs, leaned on a rosewood cane, and his eyes were slightly closed, as if he were resting.
Song Zhaowen sat in the middle, a cigar dangling from his lips, his gaze calmly sweeping over the dense crowd in the hall.
Besides Chen Luojun and Wu Zhaoyong, who are still in Thailand, and Xiao Zhuoxiao, who is guarding the newly recovered territory,
Airplane, Dongguan Boy, and others, along with almost all the prominent figures in Zhengxing, including those in the Red Stick, Straw Sandal, and White Paper Fan circles, were present.
Luo Tianhong stood silently in the shadows behind Song Zhaowen, holding his clean, eight-sided Han sword, like an emotionless statue.
All eyes were focused on the open space in the center of the hall.
There, two people were kneeling.
Li Tianyi, Da Zhi Guang.
Both men were tightly bound. Da Zhiguang's face was ashen, his body trembled like a leaf in the autumn wind, his crotch was visibly wet and emitted a foul stench, and his eyes were unfocused, filled only with boundless fear.
Although Li Tianyi was equally disheveled and his face was ashen, he stood up straighter than Da Zhiguang, and his eyes, besides despair, also contained a hint of stubbornness and resentment.
Uncle Yuan slowly opened his eyes, his cloudy but still sharp gaze falling on the two of them, and the cane in his hand tapped lightly on the ground.
"Thump."
The dull sound echoed in the silent hall, making everyone's spirits lift.
"Li Tianyi, Da Zhiguang." Uncle Yuan's voice was old and hoarse, yet carried an undeniable authority: "Do you two plead guilty?"
As the head of the criminal punishment hall, Yuan Shu naturally presided over the execution of court proceedings.
The executioner with the red stick standing to the side stepped forward and ripped the rags out of the mouths of the two men.
"Cough cough—" Li Tianyi coughed a few times, raised his head, looked at Uncle Yuan, then glanced at the expressionless Song Zhaowen, and smiled bitterly: "Confess? Ha—it's all about the victor and the vanquished. Since I, Li Tianyi, dared to do it, I dare to take responsibility! Uncle Yuan, Master Wen, I have nothing to say. Kill me or torture me, it's all up to you!"
Big Guang seemed to be awakened by the sound. He struggled to his feet, tears streaming down his face, and kowtowed repeatedly towards Uncle Yuan and Song Zhaowen: "Uncle Yuan, Master Wen! I was wrong! I was really wrong! I was bewitched! I was misled by Li Tianyi and Chen Mei! Please, for the sake of the blood I shed and the merits I made for the gang, spare my life! I'm willing to hand over all my property, I'm willing to leave Hong Kong and never come back! Please, spare me! Spare me—"
Many of the Zhengxing brothers present showed disdain on their faces. Betraying the gang, and then displaying this cowardly and shameless behavior after the failure, was truly despicable.
Uncle Yuan remained expressionless, as if he hadn't heard Da Zhi Guang's cries and pleas. He simply looked at Li Tianyi and said, "Li Tianyi, you do have some backbone. According to the gang rules, what is the punishment for betraying your brothers, colluding with outsiders, and splitting the gang?"
Li Tianyi gritted his teeth and squeezed out a few words: "Three cuts — six holes."
"Very good, you still remember." Uncle Yuan nodded, then turned his gaze to Big Guang: "Big Guang, what about you?"
Big Guang froze, his crying abruptly stopped, and the last trace of color drained from his face, leaving only a deathly despair. He knew that begging for mercy was useless.
"According to the rules," he stammered, barely able to utter a complete sentence.
Uncle Yuan stopped looking at them, his gaze sweeping across the entire area. He declared loudly, "Today, I, Yuan, in the name of the Second Marshal of Zhengxing, am enforcing family law! The traitors Li Tianyi and Da Zhiguang are beyond redemption. According to the ancestral rules of Zhengxing, they will be executed with one cut and six holes, as an example to others! You all see clearly that betraying the gang and selling out your brothers will lead to this fate!"
"Yes!" A neat and loud response rang out in the hall, and all the Zhengxing brothers straightened their backs and looked solemn.
"Execute the execution!" Uncle Yuan ordered in a deep voice.
Two burly, stern-faced executioners stepped forward, each carrying a mahogany tray. On the trays lay yellow silk, upon which lay three gleaming daggers.