Book 3 Chapter 32 – The Awakening of Bai Ze

　　Li Yiming parried another metal rod strike directed at him and tackled his attacker. He reached for the man's knee, grabbed his leg and used his body like a weapon. After sweeping all of the enemies in front of him to the ground, Li Yiming threw the man into the crowd, bringing another few ones down.

　　Li Yiming looked around coldly, he could not count the number of men in black that surrounded him. He could see, in the distance, an endless sea of men yet still coming out of the alleyways. Finally, he looked at those who were on the ground, moaning in pain, and readied himself to kill; he had no choice now, since the men in black no longer had long metal rods, but machetes. He had failed to dodge a strike earlier, although luckily for him the cut on his right arm was not that deep.

　　The mobsters, who had been forced to retreat by Li Yiming's throwing of one of their comrades into them, closed in again. Li Yiming picked up a machete and dove into the sea of blackness. This was a rather familiar experience similar to when Li Huaibei fought wave after wave of beasts back in Eden. Li Yiming's movements quickened, but he waited longer before striking, despite the number of opponents increasing, and had more and more time to think about what he wanted to do. Whatever Li Huaibei intended to teach him, he would use this opportunity to fully digest and internalize. Whether this mirage was a coincidence or preordained by fate, he did not know, but he would not let this precious chance escape him.

　　Slowly, it got to the point where Li Yiming could only see the machetes that the mobsters held and their exposed necks. He only required one blow directed at the throat for each enemy. It was a simple sequence: dodge, strike, rinse and repeat. After receiving his ninth wound, Li Yiming had begun to perfect his routine. By the time he sliced open the one hundred and thirty-seventh throat, it was nothing more than instinct.

　　The droplets of blood that splashed onto his cheeks were warm, and when the cold steel of the machetes cut through his own flesh they brought a cold, stinging sensation. Li Yiming could barely keep track of how many wounds he had sustained, or of how many enemies he had slain. He continued his routine amidst the sea of mobsters. Not too long ago, he would not even have dared to kill a chicken, but now, with no other choice, he was cutting his enemies down as if they were gra.s.s.

　　As more and more men in black fell to the ground, their corpses piled up around Li Yiming. However, the bloodbath did not stop more of them from coming forth to replace their comrades. They formed an endless stream, waving their machetes and stepping on the corpses of their comrades. As dusk settled, the street lamps lit up, only to dim down a moment afterward. Even the wind that began to blow failed to carry away the pungent scent of blood, and in the middle of it all, one could see Li Yiming standing there like a devil, his body entirely showered with blood.

　　Li Yiming had already swapped machetes many times. He stood in the middle of the pile of corpses and turned his head to look at Liu Meng, who was the only light that could guide him back to his humanity. This was the seventh time. He saw her tremble silently in the gusts that blew at the top of the tower, her voice had died out a long time ago from screaming and her heart already numb with dread. She had just lived the most important night of her life, and yet, instead of happiness and bliss welcoming her on the day after it, she found a living nightmare.

　　'I won't let anything happen to you.' Li Yiming firmed his will and turned his head away once again. From the first time he turned back to look at Liu Meng to the seventh, he had gradually lost the need to raise his head: the pile of corpses beneath his feet had now acc.u.mulated to nearly the height of the tower itself. He was starting to lose his strength, but his machete was still sharp and his technique was never closer to perfection.

　　The mobsters had finally stopped their onslaught. However, they still surrounded the scene of the ma.s.sacre and had no intentions of backing off. Li Yiming finally had some time to rest. He dropped down his arm and looked at the distance while carefully adjusting his breathing pace.