"How...how is it possible? How could you possibly know my move..." Zhang Yang stared blankly at Bai Yunfei, seeming to have lost all strength.
Bai Yunfei looked down at his dazed expression. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly in a faint, disdainful smirk as he shook his head gently. "Your meaning is that it's 'impossible' for me to see through your actions? Even brought to this state, you remain so incredibly arrogant..."
Hearing Bai Yunfei's mocking tone, Zhang Yang's body gave a slight tremble. He looked up at Bai Yunfei with palpable defeat, his voice hoarse. "Tell me... how did you discover it?"
Bai Yunfei gazed back at him with an ambiguous half-smile. Zhang Yang met his eyes, his expression one of utter dejection. He seemed to have completely abandoned any thought of resistance, only wishing to understand the reason for his failure before death.
Bai Yunfei bent down and picked up the Frost Spike Dagger and the two Frost Soul Needles lying beside the motionless Zhang Yang, storing them away in his spatial ring.
"It struck me as odd from the very beginning of our fight," Bai Yunfei began, still looking down imperiously at Zhang Yang, seemingly savoring this moment of victory. "You, the esteemed Young Master of the Zhang family in Falling Stone City, a 'distinguished' disciple of the Frost Sect... why would you possess not a single protective soul artifact? Even though you unexpectedly used that soul skill to extend your arm later, you still never utilized a soul artifact."
"So," Bai Yunfei continued, his voice cool and analytical, "only two possibilities remained. First: you truly had no soul artifact. Second: while you did possess a soul artifact, it wasn't a primary weapon like a sword or blade... Instead, it was an artifact designed for ambush and treachery – a concealed projectile!"
"But... I distinctly said..." Zhang Yang croaked.
"You distinctly said something like, 'Even I, a disciple of the Frost Sect, don't possess a soul artifact,' didn't you?" Bai Yunfei cut him off smoothly. "On the surface, that sounded like an exclamation of disbelief that I possessed multiple artifacts. But looked at differently... it was practically you telling me the information: 'I have no soul artifact on me.' Unfortunately for you, I noticed that."
"However," Bai Yunfei conceded, "that single point alone would have only raised a sliver of suspicion. The true issue was that I already harbored this suspicion before you spoke. Your words merely served to deepen it."
"You intended to use those hidden needles when I chased you out the window, didn't you?" Bai Yunfei posed the question softly, then continued without waiting for Zhang Yang's stunned reaction. "You just lacked the perfect moment then. Moreover, you discerned I didn't intend to kill you outright. That's why you let me throw you back inside – to bide your time and find a better opportunity for your sneak attack?"
"Wondering how I knew?" Bai Yunfei asked, a hint of cold amusement in his eyes. "You seem to forget... I too am skilled with thrown blades. Your attempt to subtly draw those needles from behind your back? You might have thought it hidden, but I am unfortunately rather familiar with that motion. Including just now, when you pretended to squirm backward before your attack to mask the retrieval... I saw it all perfectly clearly."
"Finally," Bai Yunfei's voice sharpened, "your quick thinking in threatening me with Old Wu's family? I must admit, your reaction was swift. Pity that I knew you were lying... from the very start!"
"Wh-why?" Zhang Yang's face was now deathly pale, the question escaping him unbidden.
"Because," Bai Yunfei stated flatly, "just two days ago, when I went to pay my respects at Old Wu's grave... I saw his family."
"So... all that hesitation... that distant look... it was all an act." Zhang Yang's voice was utterly devoid of spirit, drained of all hope. "Just bait... to lure me into revealing my final card..."
"Correct," Bai Yunfei confirmed.
"Yet..." Zhang Yang let out a faint, defeated sigh, seemingly crushed by the revelation that every one of his carefully laid plans had been anticipated. "There are still two things I cannot fathom. How could you possibly gain such formidable strength in less than two months? And you possess a spatial ring... at least three soul artifacts... Have you truly joined the Artifact Refining Sect?"
Silence followed his questions. Zhang Yang looked up, confused. Bai Yunfei stood with his arms crossed, that same inscrutable, almost mocking half-smile playing on his lips, his gaze fixed on Zhang Yang with unnerving intensity.
Meeting that gaze sent an icy chill down Zhang Yang's spine. He felt utterly exposed. He instinctively averted his eyes. It was then that Bai Yunfei spoke again, his voice deceptively calm:
"You... are trying to buy time. Hoping someone will come to your rescue?"
"N-no! How could I?" Zhang Yang shook his head fervently, a fleeting panic crossing his wretched features. "In this state... you could end me whenever you wish. I merely... I merely wish to resolve the doubts in my heart before I die... to understand... to be a knowing ghost..."
"Ah," Bai Yunfei responded softly, as if merely discussing the weather. "But once dead, the soul disperses. What difference does knowing or not knowing make? To avoid... complications... I suppose I should just kill you now."
Watching the volatile mix of confusion, resentment, terror, and utter despair contort Zhang Yang's face, Bai Yunfei finally let out a low chuckle. "Are you wondering," he asked, stepping closer, "why I explained all that earlier, since I already saw through your ploy?"
"I wanted to see this expression!" Bai Yunfei's voice hardened. "Young Master Zhang! How does it feel? To be played with like a puppet? To have your life and death decided by another's whim? Did you ever imagine you would experience such a day?" He glanced briefly towards the shattered window, a humorless smile touching his lips. "I must thank your entourage. Because you planned to visit tonight, they performed a thorough 'cleanup.' No one passes through this area. Not a soul came to investigate the earlier commotion..."
"I had thought to toy with you a little longer," Bai Yunfei admitted, his eyes turning cold as flint. "But... my patience is spent. I fear unexpected complications if we linger. So..." His right hand snapped out. Instantly, the Fire-Tip Spear materialized in his grip, its tip glowing faintly red.
"Pay for all you've done!"
Zhang Yang's face contorted in pure terror. He scrambled backward frantically, legs useless, dragging himself with his one good arm. Bai Yunfei advanced step by deliberate step, matching his pathetic retreat.
"When I killed your guard earlier," Bai Yunfei spoke, his voice a low, dangerous murmur as he hefted the spear, "you witnessed the explosive effect. I'll tell you this: the chance of this spear triggering such an explosion is only one in ten... Will you be slowly tortured to death, pierced one agonizing stab at a time?" He tilted the spear head slightly, letting the red light glint off Zhang Yang's terrified eyes. "Or... will you be blown to pieces?"
"Repent! Pray!"
Bai Yunfei stopped before the mechanically scrabbling Zhang Yang. The boundless fury he had suppressed for so long erupted in his eyes, no longer hidden. With a sudden, vicious thrust, he drove the spear towards Zhang Yang's left leg!
"This stab... is for ME!" Bai Yunfei roared. "I am not an ant in your eyes! Not a plaything arranged to fight and die for your amusement!"
Thwick! The spear tip pierced clean through the calf muscle and pinned it firmly to the floorboards beneath. Zhang Yang's body jerked violently. A raw, animalistic scream tore from his throat. An intense, scorching heat flooded his nerves – completely obliterating the lingering chill in his leg. It felt like a white-hot iron rod had been driven through his flesh. He could almost hear the sizzle, smell the faint, acrid stench of charred flesh.
Bai Yunfei's face remained an impassive mask of ice. Zhang Yang's agonized shrieks elicited not a flicker of reaction. He wrenched the spear free. Without pause, he drove it down again – this time into Zhang Yang's right thigh!
"This stab... is for OLD WU!" Bai Yunfei's voice was a cold blade. "The grandfather who lost his granddaughter! The old man who died protecting me – slaughtered by your vicious 'Ferocious Wolf'!"
Zhang Yang finally collapsed, his arms giving out. He lay flat on his back, his body convulsing. His desperate howls did nothing to alleviate the searing agony consuming his legs.
Bai Yunfei raised the spear once more. "This stab... is for JADE!" The name rang out like a curse. "Old Wu's granddaughter! Who refused your humiliation... who you tortured to death!"
Shunk! The spear punched through Zhang Yang's remaining palm – his left one. Any strength for struggle was gone. Only despair and mindless terror remained on his face. Broken, incoherent pleas bubbled from his lips.
Bai Yunfei twisted the spear shaft. "This stab... is for the GIRL UPSTAIRS!" His voice was steel. "The one you nearly defiled!"
As the spear tip plunged deeper into Zhang Yang's ruined left palm...
CRACK!
A thunderous explosion ripped through the air. Flesh, bone fragments, and splintered wood erupted outward. The floorboards beneath vanished, leaving a crater the size of a large basin. Zhang Yang's entire right arm – shoulder to fingertips – was simply obliterated, vaporized in the crimson blast.
The force of the explosion, or perhaps the sheer, unimaginable agony of losing his arm, finally overwhelmed Zhang Yang. His eyes rolled back into his skull. His body went limp. He plunged into merciful unconsciousness.
"Passed out?" Bai Yunfei murmured, looking down dispassionately at the mangled, unconscious figure. "Unable to feel the final instant of pain... does that seem too lenient? Fine." His grip tightened on the Fire-Tip Spear. He pulled it back, the shaft humming with restrained power. Then, with a final, explosive surge of force, he drove it forward with all his strength!
"The FINAL stab... is for ALL OF THEM!" Bai Yunfei's shout echoed with the weight of countless injustices. "For every soul you saw as an ant! For every life you crushed, every person you tormented and oppressed!"
The tip of the Fire-Tip Spear blazed with incandescent crimson light. It punched through Zhang Yang's chest like a lance of pure vengeance.
It pierced his heart.
Clean through.