Chapter 77: The Black-Clad Visitors

Six men stood outside the door.

All dressed in black, covered from head to toe, zippers pulled up to their chins, hats pulled low, only eyes and noses showing.

They stood in a row like six black pillars, neat, silent, with a sense of oppression.

The night breeze blew, rustling their clothes slightly, but no one moved, no one spoke, only the sound of breathing, light and even.

Lin Qingxue looked at them, her voice lazy, with a hint of impatience: “You bunch, if you’ve got something to say, say it. If you’ve got business, spit it out. If not, get the hell out. I was just in a good mood, and you bastards ruined it.”

The man standing at the front, probably the leader, was of medium build, neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin. (Well, at least he looked human, and quite decent.) Under his hat, a pair of gray eyes were visible, calm, without anger or impatience, like a stagnant pool.

He looked at Lin Qingxue and spoke unhurriedly: “Miss Lin, you should know why we’re here. You must have checked your memories. It seems you have no intention of dealing with that little heretic. The higher-ups have given the order. We’re here today to retrieve that little thing.”

Lin Qingxue’s eyes hardened, as if a layer of ice had formed. Her body leaned against the doorframe without moving, but the air seemed to drop a few degrees.

Her voice was still lazy, but every word was like a knife: “What if I don’t want to? Just you few bugs, and you have the nerve to come asking me for something? The lot of you combined aren’t enough for me to beat. And you still have the face to show up at my door.”

A taller man next to him couldn’t hold back. He stepped forward, his voice rough and hard: “Who the hell do you think you are? We’re here under orders from above. Our presence means the higher-ups are here. You disrespect us like this, and you call us something? Other Executors treat us with respect. Are you so special?”

Lin Qingxue looked at him and smiled slightly. The smile was light and brief.

Her voice carried a pleasant tone that sent chills down one’s spine: “What? Want to fight? Fine. I’ve been wanting to fight anyway. Tonight I had no reason to teach that little thing a lesson, and my hands were itching. And now some punching bags show up.”

She tilted her head, as if assessing where to start. “I wonder if the feel will be as good as that little thing.”

The leading man opened his mouth, intending to stop the tall one. But before he could speak, the tall one had already pulled out a stun baton from his waist, thumb on the switch, blue arcs crackling at the tip.

His eyes bulged wide, a kind of overexcited grin on his lips, and his voice rose: “Boss, don’t indulge her! There are six of us, and she’s just one Executor. What are you afraid of?”

Seeing that he was about to act, the other standing men also pulled out their stun batons and stepped forward, surrounding Lin Qingxue.

Their black clothes under the streetlight formed a wall pressing in.

The leading man watched this scene, speechless. He sighed, stepped back, leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and said calmly: “Fine, if you want to go, go ahead. It just so happens this Executor lady looks to be in a bad mood. Let her blow off some steam.”

His words were drowned out by the tall one’s roar, never reaching the others’ ears.

The tall one had already charged forward. The stun baton raised over his head, he swung it down at Lin Qingxue’s head.

The wind, the crackling arcs, the footsteps mixed together like a sudden storm.

Lin Qingxue watched him charge and smiled slightly. She reached out her hand, not to block, but to grab.

Her fingers precisely clamped onto the tall one’s wrist, the hand holding the stun baton, and tightened like a vise.

The tall one’s eyes bulged even wider. He felt as if his wrist had been run over by a car, bones creaking.

Lin Qingxue pulled forward, and the tall one’s body lost balance, lunging toward her. Her other hand grabbed the door handle and yanked hard. The door, like a giant guillotine, slammed into the tall one’s arm.

“Bam!”

The door panel hit the arm. The sound of bone breaking was as crisp as snapping a chopstick.

Before the tall one’s scream could escape, Lin Qingxue had already released the door handle and drove a vertical elbow strike into his elbow.

“Crack.”

The arm bent at an impossible V-shape, bone protruding from flesh, white and stark, blood seeping from the wound and flowing down the arm.

The tall one opened his mouth, unable to make a sound, his face as white as paper, and he slid down.

Seeing their comrade beaten, the other men’s blood rushed to their heads. Without thinking, they charged forward, stun batons raised, cursing, their footsteps chaotic like a swarm of disturbed hornets.

Lin Qingxue bent down and picked up the fallen stun baton from the ground, hefting it in her hand, then swung it at the head of the nearest man.

The baton cut through the air and hit his temple with a “Thud.”

The man’s eyes rolled back, and his body collapsed like a sack of cement, motionless. The baton rolled from his hand, bounced twice on the ground, and rolled to the corner.

The third man had already reached her, stun baton thrusting at her abdomen. Lin Qingxue sidestepped, dodging. The baton grazed her clothes, and a blue arc crackled at her waist, singeing a small patch of fabric.

She ignored it, reached out, grabbed the man’s wrist, twisted, and pulled. The man spun around, his back to her. She lifted her foot and kicked the back of his knee.

He knelt, his knee hitting the concrete with a dull thud.

Lin Qingxue pressed the stun baton against the back of his head and said softly, “Don’t move.”

The man didn’t dare move, trembling all over. The arcs crackled near his head, and the smell of burned hair filled the air.

Lin Qingxue didn’t look at him again. She raised her head to the remaining two.

The fourth and fifth men stood there, legs trembling, stun batons raised but not daring to advance. They exchanged a glance, then simultaneously turned and tried to run.

Lin Qingxue didn’t pursue. She reached into her pocket and pulled out an item, a brown cord, cotton, thin and soft. It was the rope she had used last night to tie up Su Yutao.

She wrapped the rope around her hand twice. Lin Qingxue dashed forward in a single stride and kicked the man’s back.

The slowest runner leaned forward. In the moment he lost balance, the brown cotton rope looped over his head from above, precisely encircling his neck.

She pulled back, tightening the rope, crossing her wrists to apply pressure.

The man made choking sounds, his hands desperately clawing at the rope around his neck, fingernails digging into skin, but Lin Qingxue’s strength was too great. His face turned from red to purple, and his tongue involuntarily stuck out.

Lin Qingxue dragged him back a few steps, like dragging a dead dog, until the man’s body went limp. Then she released the rope, letting him collapse to the ground, coughing violently while clutching his neck.

She walked over, stepped on his chest, and tightened the rope again.

The man’s face flushed red again, hands scratching at the ground, nails scraping the tiles but leaving no mark.

📚 Also on NHV Novels

Daily Life at an All-Girls’ School in Another World

another worldCombatFemale Protagonist

Read Now →
Not interested