VIP Chapter 101: The Cunning Rogue

Without Hao Six Fingers’ Heaven Hearing Technique, his sense of impending danger was considerably dulled. The assailant stood behind him before he even became alert—and if it had been anyone else, their life would have been lost!

The man’s right hand wielded a short blade, its edge turned inward, pressed against Ye Xiaoxuan’s neck. His left hand held Ye Xiaoxuan’s head firmly, then both hands exerted force in a swift, crossed motion, slashing at Ye Xiaoxuan’s throat!

Throughout history, the most common and direct method in the assassin world was the throat slash—cutting the neck clean through! This move was a tried-and-true classic, unchanging for centuries.

Yet this time, the strike failed. After the initial cut, the assassin pressed both hands on either side of Ye Xiaoxuan’s cervical vertebrae to prevent blood from spraying everywhere during any struggle.

But the anticipated gush of blood never appeared; the man before him seemed completely unharmed.

Puzzled, the assassin glanced sideways at Ye Xiaoxuan’s neck—there wasn’t a single wound. His eyes widened in shock as their gazes met. Startled, his right hand trembled, and he slid the blade deeper under Ye Xiaoxuan’s neck, slicing again!

Still no effect! The assassin, disbelieving, began sawing back and forth with the blade beneath Ye Xiaoxuan’s neck and stepped forward, clearly intent on testing this eternally resilient neck.

Ye Xiaoxuan, however, had no interest in indulging this persistent killer. With a single punch, he struck the man squarely in the face, scolding, “Were you a carpenter or something? Addicted to sawing? If you’re so fond of felling trees, there’s plenty of wood here!”

The assassin appeared quite young, under thirty, his face now pale. Nervously, he bent a finger to his lips to blow a whistle, but due to tension and shock, he couldn’t produce a sound no matter how hard he tried.

Ye Xiaoxuan sneered at him, “You call yourself an assassin and can’t even blow a whistle? Watch me!” He casually rolled up his index finger, placed it to his lips, and let out a clear, sharp whistle.

The moment the whistle pierced the air, the assassin’s face drained of color, and he charged headlong toward a large nearby tree!

Ye Xiaoxuan gasped and shouted behind him, “Even if you can’t kill me, there’s no need to commit suicide!”

Unexpectedly, just as the assassin was about to crash into the tree, a silver wire shot from his collar, snapping taut to wrap around a branch above. Like a man on a pulley, he shot up into the tree canopy with a rustling sound and vanished into the distance.

After a moment of confusion, Ye Xiaoxuan realized why the man fled. In the assassin world, a whistle served as a communication tool embedded with secret codes—varying lengths and rhythms carried specific meanings. The assassin, hearing Ye Xiaoxuan’s unfamiliar whistle, mistook it for a call for backup and panicked.

One Ye Xiaoxuan was already maddening enough; if another appeared, that assassin would surely lose his mind!

Sure enough, reinforcements arrived. Ye Dajun burst in, his half of his body stained with blood, followed by the helpless Hao Six Fingers.

Ye Xiaoxuan glared at them, “What are you doing coming in here?!” Hao Six Fingers pointed at Ye Dajun, “I told you, I can’t help. But when he heard your whistle, he just charged in—I couldn’t stop him!”

Before Ye Xiaoxuan could respond, Hao Six Fingers suddenly shouted, “They’re coming from below!” His flashlight illuminated the ground behind Ye Xiaoxuan.

With a sudden “pop,” earth exploded into the air, blinding the three men. Several dark figures leapt out, and Ye Xiaoxuan felt a cold pressure at his temple—a black gun barrel pressed against his head!

Ye Dajun moved to intervene, but the gunman clicked off the safety with a cold sneer, “Don’t move. It’s my first time using a gun; I’m inexperienced. If it goes off by accident, don’t blame me.”

Ye Dajun dared not move, raising his hands in surrender. Hao Six Fingers rolled his eyes and cursed, “What use is raising your hands when someone’s got a gun to Xiaoxuan’s head?!”

Ye Dajun was about to lower his arms but sighed, “Sooner or later I’d have to raise them anyway.”

Above and behind came the sound of movement as two more black-clad figures appeared, each holding pistols aimed at the pair. Hao Six Fingers reluctantly raised his hands as well.

Two others emerged from the woods—one dragging a half-conscious man with bloodstains, none other than Chen Tianlei, who had failed to escape.

The other half-carried a companion, and Ye Xiaoxuan couldn’t help but grin. Both were acquaintances: the one supporting the other was the assassin who had tried to saw his neck like wood, and the one being supported was the assassin whose nose bridge had been shattered by Ye Dajun’s punch, still semi-conscious.

The gun aimed at Ye Xiaoxuan’s head belonged to the group’s leader, who now eyed Ye Xiaoxuan curiously and remarked, “I have to admire you. Even now, you can still smile so cheerfully.”

Ye Xiaoxuan shrugged, “What else? If I begged for mercy, would you let me go?” The leader imitated the gesture, shrugging, “I can’t say. My mission’s already complete; you weren’t part of it.”

Ye Xiaoxuan chuckled, “In that case, how about letting us go?”

The leader shook his head, “No. You guys are strange… I’ve been watching this area since you arrived. The more I watch, the stranger it gets.”

Hao Six Fingers slapped his forehead, “I kept feeling like someone was following me, faint but real. If you can fool my eyes, you’re impressive.”

The leader turned to Hao Six Fingers, “That’s the first oddity. Your hearing and perception are exceptionally sharp. Without your stealth training, no one could avoid your detection.”

Hao Six Fingers looked proud, puffing out his chest, “Of course. Maybe not nationwide, but no one in the county has ears sharper than mine!”

The leader glanced at Ye Dajun, “A martial artist, yet a cripple, managing to knock out Fire Kid with a single punch! Even if his nose heals, it’ll be flattened. Hard to believe.”

Ye Dajun snorted, “What’s so unbelievable? I’ve smashed plenty of noses with my fists.”

The leader shook his head solemnly, “Fire Kid’s father is the Iron-Faced Man of the Golden Dipper Sect. Fire Kid has been known for his strong bones since childhood.”

Ye Dajun stared at the still unconscious Fire Kid, muttering, “If that’s strong, then you must mean thick-skinned.”

The leader then looked at Chen Tianlei, whose hands were bound and head drooping, “This guy’s strange too—a mid-level martial guard, but his speed rivals a Martial King. It took great effort to capture him. Of course...”

He turned back to Ye Xiaoxuan, eyes full of curiosity, “The strangest of all is you. Are you even human?”