Taoist priest goes to America

Chapter 99 Backstab

The black mist instantly drew the samurai sword from Ise Akibō's waist, the blade springing out silently in the darkness, heading straight for the human face.

But the blade stopped in front of the face; it was Yuzu standing there.

She was wearing an inconspicuous dark uniform, this time buttoned up neatly, the hem tucked into her waistband. The beam of a flashlight shone upwards on her cute, loli-like face, making her bright eyes appear exceptionally large in the light, her jellyfish-like head swaying gently in the factory's draft.

Upon recognizing her, Ise Kibo subconsciously gave the order to stop before his brain could even process it.

The black mist retracted the katana into its sheath as quickly as it had drawn it, the samurai sword shrinking back into its scabbard like a snake. The sound of the blade returning to its sheath had barely faded when Ise Kibo rushed towards Yuzuo.

"pomelo"

Just as he opened his arms to pounce on her, Yuzu raised her right hand, the end of the scabbard precisely pressing against his chin. The force was just enough to stop his forward momentum, bringing his embrace to an abrupt halt as his neck was poked.

Ise Kibo stood on tiptoe, his chin resting on the end of the scabbard, his arms outstretched, frozen in this comical pose.

"Shh." Yuzu put her left index finger to her lips, making a shushing gesture.

She blinked, her tone light and slightly seductive: "Completing the mission and getting credit is the priority. The target is on the second floor. Let's go up and take care of it first."

"The two of us will go on a date later and eat at that newly opened cream pie shop."

The word "date" was singled out, bolded, and enlarged, echoing repeatedly in Ise Kibo's mind. She said "date"—she said "date"! A date!

Ise Kibo stared blankly at Yuzu's face for a long time. Her loli-like face always carried a faint smile, not the shy and affectionate one he had imagined, nor the usual coldness, but a kind of joy from the bottom of her heart.

He adored Yuzu's cheerful smile; it was so cute that he vowed to marry her.

So he nodded solemnly, his expression instantly shifting to one of solemn mission, like a general about to go into battle.

Black mist surged from his body, enveloping him and lifting him up from the dilapidated stairs, rushing towards the second floor.

On the second floor, as soon as Ise Kibo's feet touched the ground, the black mist on his body exploded.

The thick black fog spread outwards from his body in all directions at an extremely fast speed, instantly covering every corner of the second floor.

The black mist surged and spread along the ground, walls, and ceiling, seeping into every abandoned machine. All objects covered by the black mist became extensions of his senses, and any vibration was fed back to his brain in real time through the black mist.

He quickly found Ang Lee. In a corner at the far end of the second floor, behind a pile of discarded metal barrels, the man was sitting against the wall.

Ang Lee's dark red suit was covered in dust and blood. His left arm hung down at his side as if broken. Several wounds on his chest were still oozing blood. His right eye was closed, his left eye was half open, and his breathing was disordered. He looked like he was in a semi-comatose state.

The target was seriously injured, exactly as described in Yuzuo's intelligence report.

Ise Kibo couldn't help but smirk. He raised his right hand, and the black mist, driven by his will, quickly gathered around the abandoned machine on the wall.

Thick black fog, like countless tentacles, burrowed into the already destroyed machine from the bottom, lifting it steadily off the ground.

The machine weighed at least four or five hundred kilograms, but when it was lifted into the air by the black mist, it felt as light as if it had no weight. Under the movement of Ise Kibo's fingers, it slowly moved and adjusted its angle, aiming at Li An's position.

A flicker of eager excitement flashed in his eyes. All he had to do was use this compressor to smash the target's head, and the mission would be complete. Then it would be a date with Yuzu, eating butter cookies. Although butter cookies were bound to be sickeningly sweet, Yuzu liked them, so he would say he liked them too.

"I'll propose to Yuzuo after I've solved my goal."

After imagining the wonderful handiwork he would do with Yuzu in the future, Ise Kibo's fingers were about to swing downwards.

"Thud—" A samurai sword pierced his back, through his heart, and emerged from his chest.

The moment the blade pierced his heart, Ise Kibo's body stiffened abruptly.

He looked down at the blade protruding from his chest, where blue and white arcs of electricity danced on the tip, making a loud crackling sound.

Blood gushed from the wound, soaking through his well-tailored white suit jacket, staining it crimson in the moonlight.

Ise Kibo's body bent forward weakly, but he did not fall. The black mist beneath his feet automatically supported his body, stabilizing him once again.

He coughed up blood as he struggled to turn his head. His handsome face was completely drained of color, his lips were smeared with blood and turned a deep red, and a trail of bloody saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth onto his chin.

When he saw the face of the person behind him, Ise Kibo's eyes were filled with disbelief. He even tried to excuse her in his mind, thinking that perhaps she had been coerced or mind-controlled.

Then he saw that smiling face. Yuzu stood behind him, holding the hilt of her katana, a bright smile on her pure and lovely face.

It was a genuine laugh, so heartfelt that even his nose wrinkled up.

The last time she laughed so happily was when he caught a butterfly behind the orphanage when they were children and secretly gave it to her.

Ise Kibo's lips moved a few times, but blood gushing from his throat blocked his mouth, preventing him from speaking a complete sentence. Only a few indistinct words escaped from his blood-filled mouth: "No—impossible—this is impossible—"

E

The heart, charred by the electric arc, convulsed in the chest cavity, and the charred myocardium was rapidly growing new granulation tissue.

Pink buds sprouted from the carbonized muscle, intertwining and merging to reweave into a new heart.

"Yuzu--Omo--" Ise Kibo's lips trembled, and two lines of tears rolled down from his bloodshot eyes, tracing his handsome face which was a mess of blood and tears.

He was about to ask what was wrong when a gust of wind blew in his face.

Just moments ago, Li An was leaning against the wall, half-dead, when he suddenly jumped up from the ground. His right eye was wide open and sharp, showing no signs of serious injury or unconsciousness.

The wounds on his body were created using the ability to split flesh and blood, so he only looked disheveled on the surface.

His right arm had already transformed the moment he leaped up. The flesh on the outside of his forearm bulged rapidly, and four dark red tentacles split off from under the skin. Each tentacle was as thick as a wrist and covered with dense blood vessels. They pierced straight into Ise Akibō's face with a whooshing sound.