Chapter 19: Weekend

“Huh?”

The team leader was dazed for a split second, until the numbness at the severed stumps of his fingers rapidly escalated into agonizing pain… Within just a few seconds, the look in his eyes shifted from blankness to confusion, and finally to terror. A scream tore from his throat.

“Ah… Aaaah…”

The team leader collapsed onto the wet floor with a splat. He instinctively opened his mouth to cry for help or scream, but his throat could only produce friction-heavy hacking sounds. The dim bathroom light illuminated his terrified eyes, which reflected Shiyue’s figure, her blade, and her cold pupils.

Splash. Shiyue stepped into the bathroom, which was still covered in standing water, and walked toward him step by step.

“You, I… don’t…”

The team leader desperately tried to squeeze out a few words, but couldn’t form a complete sentence. He only saw Shiyue walking silently toward him. He didn’t know what was happening; he wasn’t even wearing clothes. Unable to control his bladder, urine streamed out, mixing with the bathwater. He gasped for air, finally managing to stammer out a barely complete sentence:

“All my money is in my clothes outside, I’ll get it for you—”

Before he could finish, Shiyue turned the blade horizontal and thrust the tip straight into his mouth!

Another stream of blood. The severed lips, tongue, and oral cavity gushed thick blood like a fountain. The bloody water flowed down his chin to his torso, the bright red color splitting into tributaries before merging into the dirty water on the floor like rivers flowing into the sea.

“Gurgle… ah…”

The team leader wasn’t dead yet, but he couldn’t move; only his eyeballs turned weakly toward Shiyue. Surprised that he was still alive, Shiyue gripped the hilt with both hands and exerted force, twisting the blade hard like she was turning a key. Instantly, more blood overflowed from his mouth. A few final, faint groans welled up from his throat, and he finally breathed his last.

Satisfying.

Having finished the killing, Shiyue turned and exited the bathroom, which was now soaked in filthy blood. She summoned her handguard to cover her fingerprints and quickly rummaged through the rich woman’s and the team leader’s belongings. The man’s clothes only held some cash, but inside the woman’s bag, aside from cash, there were various cards. Shiyue also dug out a strange invitation.

“Charity Banquet… Location: Green Ivy Club, 4th Floor, 6 Yinshui Street, Phoenix District…”

The cover of the invitation featured a drawing of a pothos plant (green ivy), which made Shiyue instinctively look at the spiked ball pattern on her own handguard.

Is there a connection?

Shiyue didn’t dwell on it. She tucked the money, cards, and invitation under her arm and quickly retreated to the window. Before leaving, she looked back one last time at the two corpses, then jumped out the window to escape.

Landing on both feet, bathed in the moonlight, Shiyue couldn’t resist pulling out the sword again. She held the blade in her hands, admiring it closely.

Despite having just slashed two people, the blade wasn’t stained with a single drop of blood. Under the night sky, the blade was translucent and soft, glowing gently. Touching it felt like stroking a priceless piece of Hetian jade—warm, smooth, and cool. The hilt, however, was as black as ink, like an evil spirit.

With such a fine sword, killing a few punks at the old brewery would be a piece of cake.

“Time to go back.”

Shiyue put away the sword, shouldered the sack, and trotted out to the main street. After waiting a few minutes, she finally hailed an empty taxi. By the time she got home, it was nearly early morning.

The exhaustion from using “bullet time,” the taut nerves from the killing, and the lack of sleep all coalesced into an intense drowsiness that swept over her the moment she returned. She didn’t even want to change her clothes; she shoved the sack under her bed and collapsed headfirst onto the soft mattress.

Shiyue dreamed again.

Tonight’s dream featured the two people from the small hotel, but the setting was the public restroom where she had killed the “Young Master” that night. The ghostly blue light reflected their silhouettes. The headless corpse of the woman lay prone on the ground, blood still gushing from the severed neck; the man leaned against the wall, his chin drooping limply, faint blood bubbles rising from his mouth which had been churned by the blade.

“You killed again.”

Behind her, the Young Master was standing there, she didn’t know since when. His face retained the iron-gray pallor of strangulation, but a mocking smile hung on his lips.

“We meet again.”

Shiyue saw the Young Master’s face through the restroom mirror. She stared for a long while, then said, “You are already dead.”

“Am I really dead?” The Young Master spread his hands. “If I’m really dead, then are you talking to a ghost? Haha, so you’ve gone to hell too.”

“…This is just a dream. You are fake.”

Shiyue suddenly heard the sound of something rolling near her ear. Her gaze shifted slightly, and she saw the rich woman’s head rolling gurgle-gurgle toward her. The neck wound stopped just a step away from her; the dilated pupils stared emptily at Shiyue, the mouth opening and closing.

“You killed me.”

Shiyue looked sideways at the human head by her feet. A nameless fire surged in her heart. Suddenly, she raised her leg and kicked the woman’s head far away.

So what if I killed you? Scum.

The head traced a graceful arc under the lights, smacked against the wall with a crisp sound, bounced up like a rubber ball, and finally landed next to her bleeding body.

Weak wails began to rise from the man’s ruined, bloody maw. After being kicked viciously by Shiyue, the woman’s head actually started crying too. The wailing and the crying played a mournful duet in the claustrophobic, cold restroom.

“You really do like killing people,” the Young Master sneered, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Those two people you killed—even if they weren’t good people, they didn’t deserve to die, did they?”

He couldn’t suppress the smile on his face. “Maybe they had their own families, their own lives. Maybe they had hobbies, friends, habits. And you destroyed all of that. Just because you found them indistinguishable from trash. Hahaha, I like you so much!”

“…Since you like me so much, let me return the favor.”

Shiyue didn’t waste any more words. Without realizing when it happened, the Miao dao was already gripped tightly in her hand. She slashed down at the top of the Young Master’s head.

Shiyue woke up.

She rubbed her eyes; her body was a little sore.

“This won’t do. Feeling tired from just this amount of activity… I’m still lacking exercise.”

Shiyue climbed out of bed, washed up, cooked, and ate. While making breakfast, she made an extra bowl for Dad as usual. Her father was off today. Usually, he would sleep the entire day at times like this; even thunder wouldn’t wake him. But when he went out to drive in the evening, the food on the table would always be swept clean.

Shiyue remembered that when she was little, her father used to leave her notes before every shift, reminding her to eat, study, sleep, and telling her when to do what. She didn’t know when it had stopped, but a tacit understanding had long since formed in their daily lives. After all, they had lived this way for years.

The sunlight today was brilliant—a rare sunny day. Shiyue checked under the bed; the pile of weapons was safely hidden there. Shiyue knew her father’s habits; he never cleaned her room, so she wasn’t worried about him finding what was hidden under the bed.

Shiyue carefully picked up the saber. Holding the sharp longsword in her hand gave her a surreal, dreamlike feeling, as if everything that happened yesterday had just been a dream.

Waking up, she was still just an ordinary child.

“I think I had a nightmare last night too… What was it about? I can’t remember. Forget it. Time to go out. I have people to kill today, too.”

Shiyue took out the cosplay outfits. There were three sets: one was the Slaughter Princess from “Girl’s Bloody Diary,” one was the Blood Riding Hood from ‘The Moon, The Werewolf, and The Bloody Riding Hood,’ and one was the Masked Killer from ‘Pro-Plus Black and White Masks,” which included a mask that perfectly covered everything above the nose.