Chapter Eighty-Nine: Something's Wrong!

Boom!—

“What’s going on?”

Inside a room in the village, a stocky man with a long beard and slightly prominent cheekbones roared loudly at Yu Supu.

At this moment, Yu Supu was filled with regret. He had tried so hard to curry favor with the so-called Master Tu, who was said to wield great influence in N City. Yet now, nearly all his underlings were gone. He hadn’t expected the enemy to be so reckless and relentless. Previously, he and all other factions—including Master Tu and even military forces—had begun to withdraw their men, no longer searching for the detestable Liang Jing. But the enemy showed no intention of letting them off. The night was filled with screams and explosions, more terrifying than any terrorist attack, leaving them in constant unrest, unable even to sleep.

Especially since all the underlings had gathered to rest together, the presence of so many meant that if even one suddenly turned violent or detonated a bomb, the consequences would be disastrous. Indeed, the losses were far heavier than during the earlier searches. Now, many of Yu Supu’s original men were either dead or fled, leaving only his fellow townsmen—those who had also barely survived.

Yu Supu deeply regretted his decision. He was just a man selling traditional rice cakes, who had painstakingly gathered over a hundred followers with the help of a dozen or so fellow villagers. Now, it was all ruined.

“Brother Yu Supu, right after Mula went out to relieve himself, he returned and started slaughtering people with a knife before detonating a bomb. Our casualties are severe!”

Yu Supu was momentarily stunned, his face betraying no emotion. Just as he had feared, it was indeed another suicidal bombing by the enemy’s fearless men. These explosions within their ranks were becoming routine. What shocked him most was that the traitor was Mula—someone he had personally brought from their hometown to seek fortune in the great cities of Huaxia, a loyal comrade who had always followed him like a beloved son. To think he would betray him now.

“Ah!—Demon! Liang Jing, you are a demon! Muhammad, punish this demon!”

Yu Supu’s hatred and fear toward Liang Jing were immeasurable. Now, he scarcely blamed his fleeing men; the blame rested solely on himself and Liang Jing. After all, who could not fear death? To have those who once called him brother and friend suddenly turn into demons, attacking and then detonating bombs—it was a miracle his sanity had not shattered already. Even Yu Supu himself was terrified, wary of anyone approaching him. He kept his distance, even when matters demanded attention.

He lived in fear, trusting no one, his mind haunted by the thought that anyone nearby might suddenly rise up to kill him.

This brutal cycle played out repeatedly overnight among the factions hunting Liang Jing. Deaths mounted, betrayals and desertions grew, and some succumbed to mental collapse. Yet one faction remained loyal: the underlings of Tu Guiwu, the eldest son of Master Tu. Despite heavy casualties and some breaking down mentally, none betrayed Master Tu.

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