They've escaped!
The moment An Wu cut open the cell, the Martial Monk immediately realized something was wrong.
In Chang'an city, where it's impossible to harm each other, capturing one person requires several others to help. Now with more than a dozen people escaping from the cell, the two alone can't solve the problem. They need the entire An Guo Temple to suppress this group!
He turned around and punched the copper bell on the wall, and the clear sound resonated through the cell. Then the two Martial Monks together blocked the narrow passage, shouting, "You won't get out! As long as we block this place, none of you can fly away!"
This is the reason for expending great effort to dig underground spaces to build cells—in Chang'an, it might take five people to catch one person, but only two to block a hundred!
An Wu could cut the iron bars, but he couldn't harm them!
Soon, An Guo Temple would close their doors, and dozens of Martial Monks would come down to suppress these audacious people. They only needed to hold them for a quarter of an hour... no, even half a quarter would be enough!
Yet An Wu didn't look at the Martial Monks but turned to Xue Yan and said, "When we get up there, we'll distract the monks. They won't have time for you guys, then you can find your way to escape."
"Why didn't you save us earlier since you had medicine?"
"Yeah, why did you let us starve for so many days?"
"You almost starved us to death!"
"Whose subordinates are you? How can you just ignore our lives?"
As soon as they left the cell, someone started to complain, and then others echoed, all questioning An Wu and An Liu together.
Xue Yan couldn't stand it, and with some strength back, he shouted angrily, "You ungrateful fools, it's An Guo Temple's bald monks starving you, why are you blaming them? If it weren't for their rescue, who knows where you'd be sold off to by now!"
A delicate lady immediately retorted, "Didn't they save us for the reward? It's what they should do!"
"They outta slap you!"
It wasn't Xue Yan speaking, but the petite Third Miss Yang, who almost jumped up as she said, "You think no one can hit you in Chang'an, so you dare say such nonsense? You thought they blocked the door the other day just to starve that bald Ben Zhi? It was to protect us! You're a bunch of ungrateful beasts, not even a bit—"
"Haha."
Suddenly, An Wu laughed. Everyone looked at him, but he lowered his head, murmuring to himself, "There are really people who would complain..."
He looked at them, saying something strange: "If you're complaining about me, my only response is this."
If? Isn't this something that's already happening?
"Even though I want to save you, if you suffer or die because of my actions, I wouldn't care." An Wu said calmly, "I save you simply because I'm willing to."
"I don't need your gratitude, nor will I accept your complaints. Even if you all go to die now, I wouldn't mind."
"I save you, just to make the world run according to my will!"
Not just the complaining gentry, even Xue Yan and Third Miss Yang were dumbfounded by An Wu's statement.
Not even the Emperor would dare say something so arrogant, right?
But before they could say anything, suddenly there were several sounds of something falling in the cell. They turned their heads to see what looked like identical triplets to An Wu and An Liu... or could it be quintuplets?
Even if some were still cursing An Wu, An Wu and the others no longer paid attention to the prisoners. Instead, they went to carry the oil jars left by the Martial Monks in the corner.
These oil jars were weapons used by Martial Monks to kill and even destroy corpses, but… a weapon doesn't discriminate who uses it.
Blocking the staircase, the Martial Monks saw them carrying the oil jars and knew what they intended to do. Seeing An Wu coming over, they cursed menacingly, "You think you can burn me with oil? Hahaha, before you burn others, you have to burn yourself first, do you dare? We have been specially trained for this, you might just end up as roasted chicken!"
An Wu picked up a jar of oil and poured it on the Martial Monks. The Martial Monks were a bit scared inside, but still not afraid—the only flames from a human body could possibly ignite the oil on them.
This is the law of the capital city—you must harm yourself first to possibly exploit loopholes and harm others.
"An Wu," Xue Yan took off his coat: "Use our clothes to cushion—"
An Wu ignored them and poured oil over his own right arm.
Even the Martial Monks, who weren't afraid when An Wu cut open the cell, were finally terrified at this scene: "What are you planning? Think it through, it could kill people, once oil burns, it's out of control—"
Wow!
An Wu picked up the candlestick, and immediately his right arm flared up with raging flames, the intense heat making it unbearable to get close!
Without An Wu even reaching out, the Martial Monks covered in oil screamed and rolled up the passage. An Wu followed closely, hoisting his flaming right arm like a torch, leading everyone out of the dark dungeon.
At this moment, even the gentry who had just berated An Wu fell silent.
The iron door at the end of the passage was locked, and it couldn't be opened from the inside. It needed someone outside to open it. Two Martial Monks frantically banged on the door, soon a fat monk opened it, indifferently asking, "In such a rush, why? I haven't even gone down to tell you about hitting the copper bell accidentally—"
"Close the door quickly!"
As the Steward of the dungeon, the Martial Monks usually had to bow to him, but now they didn't have the time to deal with him, hurriedly squeezing past and running out, leaving only a phrase.
The Steward, smeared with oil from their scrape, looked down the passage in confusion and saw someone running out with a flaming hand raised.
The Steward reacted quickly—he slammed the iron door shut, but the fiery hand reached out through the door's crack just in time. The weight of the iron door almost severed the hand at the wrist, charred flesh smeared like pulp on the doorframe, stark white and bloody bone shards exposed, unimaginable pain.
But!
But!
This almost severed hand was like the claw of a Yaksha Evil Ghost suffering day and night, trapped inside the Great Iron Wall Mountain, clawing out to drag the Steward, smeared in oil, into Hell to atone for his sins!
"Ahhhh!"
Burning, the Steward screamed and ran outside, continuously banging on the room's copper bell, shouting towards the outside, "Close the door! Close it quickly! An evil ghost from the Underworld has escaped, an evil ghost from the Underworld!"
...
...
Meanwhile, the main hall of An Guo Temple was enveloped in the sound of bells from all directions. The Guest Monk was instructing to close the hall doors and approached the newly arriving guests, saying, "Sorry benefactor, there's a fire inside An Guo Temple. We can't receive guests now, please come back tomorrow."
Leading the guests was a strange-looking person with his head wrapped in bandages.
His companions were also strange: a masked merchant, a lively girl in sunglasses, and a young man whose temper looked notoriously bad at first glance.
The Guest Monk saw they ignored him and proceeded forward, signaling to the Martial Monk by the counter, and hurried to close the doors—the temple, which runs the Longevity Vault, has both red-faced players and white-faced ones.
"Just in time,"
The bandaged man pointed to the main hall door, saying, "There will be someone to help us close the door."
"Now, start the mission."
He pulled a mask from his bosom, a yellow dog mask, looking quite cute. He put on the mask and nonchalantly drew his sword, slashing towards the approaching Martial Monk like greeting.
The Martial Monk was confused; this is Chang'an city, why draw your sword here? It's impossible to even cut through clothes here—
Snap.
Until a severed hand fell to the ground, blood oozing everywhere, the excruciating pain finally activated the sluggish brain of the Martial Monk.
And it triggered fear in all the monks around.
"Ahhhhh—my hand, my hand!"
Pharmacist's Wish, Ying Rushi, Shang Xinlei all put on their masks, Yan Qing led the way, holding the blood-dripping White Iron Straight Saber, sweeping the scene and declaring:
"Everyone freeze, it's a robbery."