Chapter 114: Leeaving
He could not let his obsession slip into credibility-guaranteeing violence in front of the base, because his power depended on the illusion of safety and order.
He raised his voice then, too carefully restrained, "Enough. This... this does not have to end in bloodshed. Lady Ling, you are leaving. Just take what you need. Let us part with civility. Shall we?"
Her laughter spilled out again, rougher this time. "Civility?" She spat the word. "After you told my healer to abandon me? After your men laughed when I was covered in blood? After they tried to strip off my things just now? You want civility? From you?"
"Then, what do you want me to do? Give up my things as they said and leave the base, as they wished?
The remaining people of the entire base shuddered at the cold voice, which felt like death itself.
A pair of men, the most arrogant of the lot, made for her storage bag. Their step was aggressive, a crude attempt at taking advantage while her back was turned, while Song and the others were regrouping. There was no tactical sense; it was merely greed.
Ling Yu turned on them like a soundless predator. Her hand was a flash. She grabbed the closer man’s wrist and bent it backward. There was a vicious pop as bone betrayed tendon. He dropped to his knees, eyes rolling in disbelief. The other tried to run, and she stepped forward, heel snapping out to catch the man’s Achilles tendon. He screamed and went down, face smearing blood on the dirt.
[System Notification]
[Permanent Limb Damage inflicted on Hostile Survivor.
Cruelty Score +3.
[Unknown Cosmic Entity cheers the Streamer.]
[Now that’s what you call a proper stream! Delicious! Temper them to death!]
[Ares sneers at the lower beings.]
[Now that is a spectacle.]
Her mouth twisted into a smile that was not for show. She walked through the scattering crowd with the slow inevitability of winter. Each step she took left the men a measure less certain. She hadn’t even used her strength, merely the precision of it, the immovability of her will. That would be far worse than this now.
"You will hand me no more demands," she said, voice like a bell struck in a cathedral of knives. "My potions are for those who bleed on my behalf, not for thieves and cowards. My cores are worth more than your lives. If you value them, you will value the lives they protect."
A few of Shen Ming’s lieutenants tried to coordinate, fracturing commands into a desperate cadence. A crude plan: surround her, take her down in numbers. They advanced a step. Song’s shadow crossed the courtyard then, and quietly, like a blade being unsheathed, he moved between them and Ling Yu, hands resting visibly on his own spear.
"Stop," Song said, voice low and surgical.
"No one shall try to touch my Master. You can only do so over my dead body."
The men stuttered because Song had given his life and conviction to her before. He had been her guard, her sentry, and their look at him now was of someone who would not tolerate the murder of his soul’s trust.
Shen Ming, sensing the tide, barked orders: "Disperse. Do not force me to—" he cut off, because he understood he had no cards left; the men under his command were falling like rotten fruit in the face of a single unblinking woman and the silent, lethal presence of Song.
Ling Yu let a small, satisfied sound escape and retrieved her bag. She checked Xian Yu with a quick glance, banded, and breathing, tucked away now into Song’s care, and swung her own pack over her shoulder. The Alpha Ape core and other loot throbbed faintly in her storage, the soft hum of captured mana as comforting and dangerous as a heartbeat. Fluffy perched contentedly on top of it, tail swaying like a white banner.
[System Notification]
[Host has secured special items.]
[Portable Inventory: Normal.
Reserved Items: Alpha Ape Core (1), High-Grade Mana Potions (remaining), Defensive Talismans.
Stream donations continue: +2230 coins this minute.]
One of the remaining men, younger than most of the others, eyes rimmed red with too-late courage and lunged, trying to knock the bag from her. He had a knife and more bravado than sense. He reached for the strap; his fingers brushed leather.
Ling Yu’s hand found his wrist. This time, she did not break a bone; instead, she crushed a tendon the way a person squeezes a ripe fruit. The man’s scream turned into a hoarse whisper. He dropped to the ground, useless. She spat in his direction.
"Last chance," she said, and the words meant the edges of their lives. "Move. Clean up the blood. Remember what happened. And tell your leader that if he comes after me, I will take the whole base and leave nothing but a memory."
Shen Ming’s face showed the first honest emotion he had permitted himself in days: panic for his control, for the men who still remained, anger at the loss, and an ugly, cramped misery. He approached with that fragile smile, trying to salvage dignity. "Lady Ling, you’ve overstayed your welcome. If you go, then go. Take your things as they are, just spare my man. Do not bring your... people to our gates and threaten our people." His words were conciliatory on the surface and venomous beneath.
She looked at him long enough to let the nuance land. Her voice was quiet, but the memory of being groped and of Xian Yu’s fear made it cut deeper. "You built your small kingdom on the bones of others. I will not grace it with my gratitude. And of course, I’m leaving here for good."
He winced. "You speak like a sovereign. But you don’t understand the value of balance, Lady Ling." He had the practiced voice of a man who traded in soft power, and the pleasure in keeping others servile. Now that the mask cracked, the raw animal underneath peered out.