Chapter 0088: The Pact of Life and Death

At this moment, inside the Beichen Martial Arts Hall in Jinghai City.

Kimura Tanino lay sprawled on the wooden floor, gravely injured. Beside him, Kimura Taniji’s jaw was wrapped thickly in bandages, though his wounds were much lighter; at least he could still speak. Kimura Taniji’s expression was bleak. He had never expected even his own brother to lose so thoroughly to that young man—just how formidable was his strength?

Standing next to Kimura Tanino in the training hall was an elderly man with snow-white hair and piercing, blade-like eyes. At his waist hung a samurai sword, and though he simply stood there, his presence exerted a tremendous pressure.

“Useless! The reputation of Beichen Itto-ryu and this hall has been utterly disgraced by you brothers,” the old man suddenly barked.

“Master, that young man is truly formidable... I couldn’t withstand even a single move from him,” Kimura Taniji murmured.

“Fool! And you still have the nerve to say that?” The old man shot him a glare. This was their master: Kimura Kazuhaku, known throughout Japan as the Demon Blade. He was not without pride in Kimura Tanino’s talent, but his fury stemmed from the fact that Tanino had been beaten so badly, without even harming a hair of his opponent.

This was a complete humiliation for Beichen Itto-ryu and the Beichen Martial Arts Hall.

“Master, only you can restore our honor now,” Kimura Taniji said.

“I don’t need you to tell me. I will see for myself what kind of man dares to humiliate Beichen Itto-ryu!” Kimura Kazuhaku’s gaze was icy. “I will immediately write a blood challenge and fight him to the death!”

“Master, you’re going to issue a death challenge... It’s not worth it, what if...” Kimura Taniji was startled. He hadn’t expected his master to go so far.

“What, do you think I’m not his equal?” Kimura Kazuhaku’s voice was low and cold.

“No, Master, you are a renowned figure in Beichen Itto-ryu... It’s not that I doubt you, but that young man’s strength is so mysterious; if you were to lose, the humiliation would be even greater. It’d be better to find him discreetly with more men and cripple him,” Kimura Taniji suggested.

“Fool! Would you feel proud crippling him in secret?” Kimura Kazuhaku retorted harshly. “An imperial warrior must be upright and brave, ready to challenge any adversary.”

“No more words!” He raised his hand, stopping Taniji from speaking further. “I will make this public—a death challenge, life and death aside. Even if I die, I will die with dignity!”

With that, Kimura Kazuhaku cut his finger, tore a white strip from his clothing, and wrote the challenge in blood, signing his name.

Soon, with the media’s help, news of this challenge spread far and wide.

“Zhang Xiaofan?”

In an office, Jinghai’s top official, Han Ruming, was somewhat puzzled. Wasn’t that the very name his son had been swearing to teach a lesson these past few days?

He pondered, then dialed a number—Zhao De’s.

“Hello, Brother Zhao.”

“What is it, Brother Han? Need something?”

“I want to ask about a person. You know Zhang Xiaofan?”

“I do. Has he troubled you as well?”

“No, I just want to know what kind of background he has.”

“He’s got a big one... best not provoke him, or you’ll only regret it.”

“Is that so...” After a few words, Han Ruming was taken aback. For Zhao De to say such things, this person must be extraordinary. He began to worry about how his own son had gotten involved with such a man. Luckily, there was no deep enmity yet; he must warn his useless son.

After a pause, Han Ruming asked, “The Japanese Beichen Martial Arts Hall is challenging Zhang Xiaofan, and their words are quite brash. What do you think?”

“He should accept. Ask Zhang Xiaofan to take the challenge,” Zhao De replied seriously.

“Alright, I’ll try to contact him.” Han Ruming hung up, and with his resources, finding Zhang Xiaofan wouldn’t be difficult.

Soon, he found a number, but it was unreachable. He investigated Zhang Xiaofan’s whereabouts, and finally saw on surveillance that Zhang Xiaofan was at the seaside, motionless, like an old monk in meditation.

…

By the sea, Zhang Xiaofan had been cultivating all morning, feeling the exhilaration of surging spiritual power. With continued practice, he keenly sensed the extraordinary nature of the Nine Heavens True Dragon Technique; he was certain that with diligence, he too could one day become a peerless powerhouse.

“Mr. Zhang…”

As Zhang Xiaofan opened his eyes, a voice sounded beside him. The speaker had evidently been waiting a long time.

“Who are you?” Zhang Xiaofan asked curiously.

“I am Han Ruming,” the man replied. He had come in person, worried his subordinates might mishandle things.

“What is it?” Zhang Xiaofan inquired.

“Take a look at this.” Han Ruming played a video showing Kimura Kazuhaku holding the death challenge.

The words were clear.

Zhang Xiaofan rose, took the video, glanced at it, and his expression darkened.

The challenger, Kimura Kazuhaku, from Beichen Martial Arts Hall—it was clear he came on behalf of Kimura Tanino and Taniji.

Zhang Xiaofan couldn’t help but admire the man’s audacity, raising the stakes to such a level. This was no longer a personal feud.

Moreover, it was a blood-written death challenge. Was Kimura Kazuhaku truly so confident?

“Tell them, I accept,” Zhang Xiaofan said without hesitation.

“Very well. Tomorrow at ten a.m., at Jinghai Stadium, your match will be public,” Han Ruming said, then cautiously asked, “Are you confident?”

Zhang Xiaofan smiled, “I don’t know what his strength is, but no matter how strong he is, I must accept this challenge.”

“Excellent, Mr. Zhang, you are indeed a hero.” Han Ruming couldn’t help but praise him. Though Zhang Xiaofan was young, his spirit was admirable.

After a pause, Han Ruming smiled, “Mr. Zhang, my useless son has offended you lately. Please don’t take it to heart. I’ll make sure to discipline him when I see him.”

“Your son? Who is he?” Zhang Xiaofan asked in confusion.

“Han Ruofei…” Han Ruming replied quietly.

“Oh, him…” Zhang Xiaofan was surprised, then realized the man before him was the Party Secretary—quite easygoing, actually.

In truth, when Han Ruming first heard his son had been beaten, he was angry and wanted to punish the culprit. But he hadn’t known the man was so formidable.

Had he known sooner, he would have quashed his son’s thoughts of revenge.

Han Ruming understood well that there were people in the city with power far beyond ordinary men—people they could not afford to provoke. Zhang Xiaofan was one of them, with a strong background as well.

It was best to clarify things early and make a gesture of goodwill.

“It’s alright. As long as he doesn’t bother me, I won’t do anything to him,” Zhang Xiaofan replied. “Also, tell him not to harass Lin Siyu anymore. Lin Siyu doesn’t like him, there’s no need to pester her—it’s rather annoying.”

“This useless boy has completely disgraced himself,” Han Ruming said, a look of exasperation on his face. In truth, he knew best; he’d always hoped his son would woo Lin Siyu so the Han family could rise higher.

He had even approached Lin Haonan to try to pair Han Ruofei with Lin Siyu.

Hearing Zhang Xiaofan’s words, Han Ruming decided to abandon the idea. Clearly, Zhang Xiaofan’s tone suggested he liked Lin Siyu himself.

Letting his son compete with such a man—there wasn’t even a one-in-a-thousand chance.

“You brat, I’ve been looking everywhere for you—so you’re here!” Just then, a loud, arrogant voice rang out.

Han Ruofei strode over, a group of men in tow, radiating aggression.

Beside him was someone Zhang Xiaofan recognized—Zhao Kai, the one who had always been so deferential to him, followed by seven or eight burly men who looked like bodyguards.

It seemed Han Ruofei had gathered a crew to deal with him.