All have been sent away, in perfect order.

Crash—!

While everyone was still preoccupied with the issue of their hacked phones, a disciple of the Confucian Sect had his skull split open by a great blade that fell from the sky.

Everyone turned toward the sound, only to see the corpse of that disciple lying next to a mysterious young woman with a hime cut, dressed in motorcycle gear.

She wore a fox mask, hiding her face, but there was an unmistakable dangerous aura about her that everyone sensed—a presence that only an “Emperor” could possess.

“Take her down!”

Realizing an enemy had arrived, disciples from all three sects drew their weapons and charged at the girl.

After all, she was only one person; with more than a dozen of them from three sects attacking together, how could they possibly lose?

Facing these overwhelming numbers, Chiyo Asougi pressed the button on her sword’s hilt, letting blue flames burst from the spine of her mechanical blade.

Propelled by the flamethrower, Chiyo swung her sword at the nearest Buddhist disciple.

...

One hour earlier.

“You want me to kill them?” Chiyo leaned against a gravestone, her eyes full of confusion.

“That’s right. Before long, I’ll lure the envoys from the three great sects here,” Chen Shang nodded. “I want all of them to die here.”

Chiyo took a deep breath and shook her head firmly. “I’m the leader of the Tokugawa Syndicate. I’ve killed many people—those who owe debts, those who threaten the Asougi Group, and those who try to assassinate me. But I’m not a monster who kills for pleasure. I only take action when my family needs me or my life is threatened.”

Hearing these words, Chen Shang sighed and picked up the light crossbow in his hand. “Then I’ll do it myself. You can just watch.”

“What? You’re going to take them all on alone...?” Chiyo’s eyes widened in shock.

“I should be able to handle it—if luck’s on my side,” Chen Shang replied, his tone unwavering despite the ambiguity of his words.

Ever since he had infiltrated the Confucian Sect two days ago, his Collapse Points had surged by over twenty. Now his Collapse Points had surpassed one hundred.

He invested all his points in the [Unstable Amplifier].

Special skills cost upwards of two hundred points. Rather than hoarding points and dying with regret, it was better to enhance his basic abilities first.

After the enhancement, his strength had surpassed 2, with modest gains in constitution and dexterity as well.

Chen Shang recalled that the disciples of the three great sects all had combat stats around 3, but most relied on advanced technological weapons. Without their gear, they were little more than a disorderly mob.

He had instructed Black Karyss to set up a massive interference device in the graveyard. Once activated, all electronic devices in the area would fail. Robots and cyborgs within the domain would malfunction and be unable to move.

However, Chiyo’s mechanical blade and Chen Shang’s light crossbow were on Black Karyss’s whitelist, so they could still function within the interfered area.

Under these circumstances, Chen Shang, armed with his multi-functional light crossbow, could at least handle these martial brutes.

Chen Shang flicked the switch on his crossbow and instructed Chiyo, “If you don’t want to fight, keep your distance.”

“No, I’ll handle it,” Chiyo said, grabbing Chen Shang’s shoulder and pushing him behind her.

Chen Shang could only shrug and step back.

Her thinking was twisted, yet oddly straightforward. She always projected a strong, aloof, indifferent demeanor, but her possessiveness and need for control were terrifyingly intense.

If she were thrown into an otome game and gender-swapped, she’d be the archetypal domineering mafia boss—one who’d cut her way from the Golden Sands all the way to Heaven’s Gate for her beloved.

“Don’t think I’m doing this for you,” Chiyo said, drawing her blade and turning her head away haughtily. “I just can’t stand those Confucian bastards.”

“Then go ahead and make a scene~” Chen Shang snapped his fingers and vanished into the mist.

...

“Go! Capture her alive!”

A Daoist cultivator drew the mechanical flying sword from his back and charged at Chiyo.

But suddenly, he realized his sword felt much heavier than usual. The nuclear-powered auxiliary booster that would normally activate with a swing was now silent and inert.

In battle, a single second’s delay often meant death.

In the very next heartbeat, Chiyo’s mechanical blade, driven by the flamethrower, sliced the Daoist’s head clean off.

After dispatching him, Chiyo immediately set her sights on a nearby Confucian disciple.

“I possess immense strength! I can pluck a willow tree upside down!” the disciple shouted, raising his electric scroll.

But nothing happened.

The circuit-board scroll had failed, its lights now dark.

Before he could recover from his shock, Chiyo’s blade severed his head in a spray of blood.

“Amitabha, such evil must be exorcised!” cried several Buddhist monks, joining their palms and trying to deploy the machine guns in their chests.

But the next instant, their bodies convulsed involuntarily, arcs of electricity crackling across their skin.

In a heap, the cyborg monks collapsed, paralyzed.

Seeing these bald heads surrender without a fight, Chiyo ignored them and moved to finish off the remaining enemies.

After several exchanges, the disciples realized all their mechanical equipment had been jammed.

Worse still, one disciple tried to activate his chest-mounted police recorder to call for help, only to find that even this supposedly “top-level firewall” device had failed.

Whoosh—!

Chiyo’s blade moved faster and faster, blood spattering her clothes, her mask, and swirling into the mist around her. The fog seemed to flow and surge with the dance of her blade, forming a deep, ancient ukiyo-e painting.

Her swordsmanship, taught by the best master in Arakawa Ward, was less a display of martial strength and more a deadly, elegant dance—a dance of slaughter that would tear apart anyone caught within.

Deprived of their weapons, the disciples fled in panic, only to be hunted down one by one by Chiyo’s light-footed pursuit.

In no time, aside from a few cyborgs, all present had their throats cut.

“Phew...” After eliminating everyone, Chiyo wiped the sweat from her brow. Her eyes behind the mask remained cold, as if she were completely used to such scenes.

Chen Shang emerged from the fog, clapping, casually grabbing the head of a Buddhist monk and wrenching it off with a twist.

“It’s done,” Chiyo said coolly, flicking the blood from her blade.

“Yes, beautifully done~” Chen Shang stepped up and wiped the blood from her cheek.

“Beautiful...” Chiyo took a deep breath, her once steady breathing now ragged.

“I mean your swordsmanship is beautiful—like a work of art,” Chen Shang quickly clarified.

“But I don’t like kendo,” Chiyo said quietly, brushing his hand away, her gaze dim. “My family forced me to learn.”

“In their eyes, you’re nothing but a piece of art,” Chen Shang laughed. “So you want to rebel, to prove you’re your own person, isn’t that so?”

Chiyo exhaled softly. “And in your eyes, what am I?”

Chen Shang didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up a Daoist’s phone and called out, “Black Karyss, shut off the jamming device!”

With a crackle, the phone in his hand sprang back to life.

He opened a Daoist group chat app, typed five words, and sent them to everyone:

[The headsman is here.]

With that done, he tossed the phone back into the pool of blood and wiped his hands with a smile.

“Oh right, what did you just ask me?” Chen Shang looked at Chiyo with mock seriousness. “What are you in my eyes?”

“You’re you. You can be whatever you want. I won’t put any label on you.”

With that, Chen Shang waved for her to follow.

Chiyo hesitated for a moment, then hurried after him.