154: Chapter 154 The so-called ancient martial arts myths are a joke in the face of heavy industry.
Fragments fell like a rainstorm.
They were the remnants of shattered sword energy, stinging when they hit the face.
Sword Nine's body jolted violently in mid-air.
The depleted uranium armor-piercing shell had shattered the sword energy without even pausing.
It was too fast.
He didn't even have time to make a dodging movement.
"Pfft!"
A dull sound of flesh tearing.
The armor-piercing shell slammed directly into his chest.
His protective internal energy was like a thin layer of plastic wrap, torn open in an instant.
There was no explosion.
Only pure kinetic energy piercing through.
A huge bloody hole exploded out of Sword Nine's back.
Blood mixed with fragments of internal organs sprayed out like a fountain, drawing a red parabola in mid-air.
"Ugh..."
A strange sound came from Sword Nine's throat.
He looked down at the hole in his chest and could see the night sky behind it.
His proud "Undying Sword Body" was simply a joke in front of this thing.
He hadn't even managed to unleash his second move.
"Thud."
He fell straight down from mid-air.
He landed face-first, smashing heavily onto a bluestone slab below.
His brains were knocked out.
He lay on the ground like a dead dog, twitched twice, and stopped moving.
The mountain wind was still blowing, carrying a thick stench of blood and gunpowder.
The entire scene was deathly silent.
The remaining ancient martial arts grandmasters were all stunned.
They stood with their mouths open, their jaws almost hitting the ground.
That was Sword Nine!
A legend of the Kunlun Mountains!
An unparalleled expert who could open the Heavenly Gate with a single sword strike a hundred years ago!
Just like that... blasted to death by a single cannon shot?!
Without even leaving a complete corpse?!
"Grandmaster... Grandmaster is dead..."
A Little Daoist slumped in the mud, his eyes dull.
The rusty longsword in his hand hit the ground with a "clang."
It wasn't just him.
Those elders, who usually held their heads high and considered themselves immortals, were now watching that steel monster, still steaming with a blue-glowing cannon barrel, their legs trembling uncontrollably.
"This... what kind of hidden weapon is this..."
A nun from the Emei Sect had wet her pants.
The smell of urine mixed with the stench of blood was nauseating.
She retreated a few steps and sat down in a pile of corpses.
"Run... run quickly!"
A fat Daoist from the Wudang Sect was the first to react.
He screamed at the top of his lungs and turned to run down the mountain.
He didn't even care about his master's corpse.
This shout was like a thunderclap, startling everyone awake.
To hell with sect dignity, to hell with avenging the ancestor!
In front of this terrifying steel beast, surviving is what really matters!
Hundreds of grandmasters scurried down the mountain like rats from a disturbed nest, scrambling and crawling.
Some lost their shoes and ran barefoot, their feet bloodied on the gravel.
Others, to run faster, even kicked aside the fellow disciples blocking their way.
On the hilltop, Qin Yuan leaned against a rusty iron railing, fiddling with the red remote control in his hand.
He watched the "immortals" fleeing in disarray below and curled the corner of his mouth.
"Running away already?"
He tossed the remote control casually to Gu Qianqian beside him.
"I thought they would last a bit longer, what a letdown."
Gu Qianqian scrambled to catch the remote control.
She wiped the cold sweat from her forehead, leaving a smudge of black ash on the back of her hand.
"Boss, the power of this thing is just too much."
She looked at the large crater below, plowed out by the shockwave of the armor-piercing shell.
"One shot, and not even the residue is left."
"As long as it works."
Qin Yuan turned and walked to the edge of the rooftop.
The hem of his trench coat fluttered in the wind.
He watched the ancient martial artists who were frantically testing the edge of the minefield, not daring to take a single step across.
"Ah Fu."
"Here, Young Master."
Ah Fu stepped forward, carrying the hot shotgun.
"Make them stop."
Qin Yuan fished a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it.
"They've been running all night; they must be tired."
"Yes."
Ah Fu turned and picked up the walkie-talkie.
"All units, attention. Fire warning shots. Anyone who dares to cross the red line, shoot them into a sieve."
"Rat-tat-tat!"
A burst of dense machine-gun fire rang out in the valley.
Bullets struck the muddy ground at the feet of the ancient martial artists, splashing up rows of mud pillars.
The grandmasters who were preparing to charge out instantly slammed on the brakes.
They looked in terror at the deep trench plowed into the ground by the bullets at their feet.
No one dared to take another step forward.
In front was a barrage of firepower, behind was the electromagnetic cannon.
This was a dead end.
"Thud."
The fat Daoist from the Wudang Sect, who was running at the very front, felt his legs go weak and knelt directly on the ground.
His face was covered in dirt, tears streaming down mixed with mud.
"Don't... don't shoot! I surrender! I surrender!"
He threw his broken sword far away and clasped his hands over his head.
"Master Qin! Ancestor Qin! Spare my life!"
With the first one leading the way, the psychological defenses of the remaining elders and disciples completely collapsed.
"Thud, thud..."
Hundreds of people knelt down in unison, like harvested wheat.
Some were kowtowing, their foreheads striking stones until they were bloodied.
Some were wailing, their voices hoarse, as if begging their own parents.
"Master Qin, spare us! We were all forced!"
"It was those ancestors who made us come! We don't want to die!"
"I am willing to work like an ox or a horse for the Qin Family! I beg Master Qin for mercy!"
They kowtowed frantically towards Qin Yuan's direction, begging for mercy.
The arrogance from just a moment ago, looking down on mortals as ants, had long since been eaten by dogs.
Now, they were just a bunch of pathetic wretches who would abandon all dignity to survive.
Qin Yuan held his cigarette.
He watched the "immortals" lying on the ground like dogs below.
The cigarette cherry flickered in the darkness.
"Look," Qin Yuan exhaled a puff of blue smoke, his voice not loud.
"No matter how hard your bones are, they aren't harder than bullets."
He walked to the railing and flicked the ash onto the face of a little monk below who was looking up at him.
The little monk was burned, but didn't dare to even let out a fart.
"So-called ancient martial arts myths, so-called cultivation traditions."
Qin Yuan sneered.
"In the face of heavy industry, they are just a joke."
He turned and strode downstairs.
"Go. Tell Hei Zi to bring men and tie them up."
"Anyone who shouted earlier about killing my whole family, cut out their tongues."
"As for the rest, take them all to Africa to mine. Our Qin Family's black-hearted gold mines happen to be short on forced labor."
"Got it! I'll go do it right now!"
Gu Qianqian excitedly tucked the remote control into her pocket.
"Boss, what shall we do next?"
Qin Yuan stopped.
He looked at his hand.
When he was holding the gun earlier, the webbing between his thumb and index finger had been slightly abraded.
"Go to the Kunlun Mountains."
His voice was cold.
"Go meet that ancestor who led the trouble."