Volume One, Chapter 62: The Island Nation Assassin

Jiang Chen spoke plainly, “Uncle Su, you can check your company’s bank account now. There should be a new sum of money in it.”

A sum of money?

Su Chenglong took out his phone, calling with some skepticism. He didn’t believe it—how much money could it possibly be?

Before he could speak after the call connected, his secretary’s voice came first: “Chairman, there’s suddenly a huge deposit in our company’s account...”

When he heard the amount, Su Chenglong almost dropped his phone.

That sum was more than he could earn by selling his company hundreds of times over.

He was now deeply suspicious. Thankfully, he had agreed to Jiang Chen’s request earlier—if he hadn’t, Jiang Chen would have simply found someone else, and this windfall would never have been his.

Who had he just called—his father?

But that was no longer important. After giving a few instructions, Su Chenglong hung up.

“What do you plan to do?” His tone had become deeply respectful, and he no longer looked at Jiang Chen as if he were merely a junior.

Jiang Chen replied indifferently, “I don’t plan on doing anything. If he wants to die, I’ll let him die. It’s that simple.”

Jiang Chen didn’t know much about Ye Qingfeng, but thinking about it, since that good-for-nothing Ye Qingming was so despicable, Ye Qingfeng couldn’t be much better.

After settling his senior sister, Jiang Chen asked about Su Yike’s whereabouts, only to learn that she hadn’t been home these past few days—she was at the police station, apparently because they had received a special case.

Jiang Chen turned on his phone, and a flood of messages appeared. After browsing for a while, he committed everything to memory.

What pleased him most was that Li Jingshou was bold enough to try to snatch someone outright—this took him by surprise.

As for Su Yike, the news was that the chairman of Shanshui Group had died under suspicious circumstances, so the police were investigating.

Jiang Chen considered things for a moment before deciding to return and check on Li Jingshou and the others first.

On the way back, he even cast a divination. He was worried about Ning Rou’s safety, but the hexagram showed she was safe, so he felt reassured.

Su Chenglong had wanted to see him off, but Jiang Chen politely refused.

After leaving the Su residence, Jiang Chen had only walked a short distance before stopping.

“So impatient, Ye Qingfeng?”

As soon as he finished speaking, eight assassins dressed in white burst from the ground around him. Unlike local cultivators, they wielded katana—what Jiang Chen liked to call “little island blades.”

He marveled at the craziness of hiring assassins from that island nation to kill him—what was going through their heads? Did they not value their lives?

The eight katanas formed a circle, cold light gleaming sharply.

Suddenly, one of the islanders at his back struck first, aiming his long blade directly at Jiang Chen’s heart, with no intention of holding back.

Kui Niu spoke up, “Damn, these guys stink! They reek of diapers—hurry up and kill them before I suffocate!”

As expected of a native mythical beast, Kui Niu’s disdain was palpable.

“Shut up. Let me finish them first,” Jiang Chen snapped, and Kui Niu obediently fell silent.

The blade coming at his back was caught between Jiang Chen’s two fingers. With a simple twist, the supposedly sturdy katana snapped in half.

The assassin immediately realized Jiang Chen was no ordinary opponent and began to retreat.

The others rushed forward to help cover his escape.

Jiang Chen tossed the broken tip lightly. Without even looking, it shot through the air and pierced straight through the head of the fleeing assassin.

“A small country is just a small country—even their cultivation is so timid,” Jiang Chen remarked. The remaining assassins seemed to understand. They raised their blades and advanced in a formation that was almost impossible to dodge.

But Jiang Chen stood his ground, golden light bursting from his body.

Golden Light Incantation!

Their swords struck the golden aura as if hacking at marble. Some katanas, already poor imitations of Tang dynasty blades, were chipped and shattered on the spot.

“Baka!” one of them cursed aloud. Jiang Chen frowned, his figure flashing forward.

Slap—

Without warning, he struck the assassin’s face, which caved in and collapsed.

It was like slapping a watermelon—after deflating with a squelch, it exploded with a bang.

In just a few seconds, two of their number were dead. The remaining six finally realized something was wrong. This man was nothing like the intelligence reports suggested—far stronger than a mere practitioner.

“You can’t escape,” Jiang Chen said. “But I’ll give you a chance. I have some questions, but only one of you can survive. The condition is that you kill the others.”

He stood calmly, unafraid that any would escape.

The assassins exchanged glances. One stepped forward and asked cautiously, “Are you serious?”

Jiang Chen nodded. This one clearly understood him. The assassin beckoned, and the other five gathered around.

In the next instant, the assassin’s katana swept out, skewering all five in one motion—like threading candied hawthorn.

He hadn’t expected this one’s ruthlessness, especially toward his own comrades.

“Can I go now?” the survivor asked.

“Not yet. You need to do one thing for me. Tell me who hired you and how your transaction works.”

Because of the language barrier, it took a while for the assassin to explain: Ye Qingming had paid fifty million to hire them. Their process was to send a photo of Jiang Chen’s corpse to Ye Qingming, who would then pay the remaining fee.

“I see,” Jiang Chen mused. “Help me take a photo, then send it to your employer. That way you’ll still get your commission.”

The assassin’s eyes lit up. “Really? You’re a very good man!”

After sending the message, he looked to Jiang Chen again. “Can I go now?”

“Of course. You can leave now,” Jiang Chen said with a wave, inviting him to act as he pleased.

The assassin grinned, formed a hand seal, and began to earth-meld away.

But as soon as he sank into the ground, Jiang Chen casually picked up two katanas and tossed them after him.

Seconds later, blood bubbled up through the soil.

“I suppose that counts as leaving,” Jiang Chen murmured, stroking his chin.