Chapter Ten: Striking Down the Bandits

By this point, Zhang Desen had asked the squad leader many questions, gaining a rough understanding of the situation in this universe. It must be said, the state of affairs was truly chaotic. Mainly, the previous dynasty had failed to control local military forces, leading to the collapse of the realm and its current fragmented state, with the Great Xing Kingdom as one of the resulting nations. The wars among these countries were reminiscent of the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods; however, the Great Xing Kingdom seemed relatively prosperous, occupying a fertile land rich in resources.

Later, the squad leader promised to clarify everything upon his return, ending any misunderstandings. After Zhang Desen gifted him two small gold bars, they parted ways. Zhang Desen, however, did not head straight to the base; caution dictated his actions, for no one could know if the squad leader would change his attitude upon returning. He needed to continue his feint, just in case.

Soon, Zhang Desen arrived at Peony Pavilion. As he had anticipated, the place was deserted following the recent battle—no one came to enjoy the scenery. Zhang Desen then retrieved a flash grenade, pulled the safety, ignited the fuse, and hurled it skyward with all his strength.

The flash grenade erupted in dazzling light and exploded. At the instant of detonation, Zhang Desen shielded his eyes; anyone nearby would have been blinded temporarily, while those farther away could not approach in time. Zhang Desen seized this moment to dash toward the base.

Yet he did not return immediately, instead ascending to an altitude of seventy-five meters on Nanping Mountain. Zhang Desen decided to circle the mountain at this elevation, checking for pursuers and treating it as a casual stroll. Nanping Mountain was vast, so he kept an eye on the time. Continuing west, he walked for a while, then descended, since it was still early and he preferred to walk more.

Unexpectedly, Zhang Desen found himself near a village; in his original universe, this location belonged to Hangzhou’s urban area. But as this universe was ancient, he thought little of it. What he did not expect was to witness a scene of bandits pillaging the village.

Fury welled within him. As a soldier, Zhang Desen could not tolerate such lawlessness and resolved to teach these bandits a lesson. They were a ragtag bunch, and he was confident he could handle them without resorting to his military gear, including the Type 95 assault rifle he carried. Should anything unforeseen occur, he still had his special forces equipment to escape, so he felt no concern.

With resolve, Zhang Desen strode toward the village. As he reached the entrance, six bandits surrounded him. One addressed the leader, saying, “Hey, Third Chief, this fellow’s attire is strange. I’ve never seen clothes like his before. Could he be a northern barbarian?”

The burly leader, clad in tiger skin, waved his hand to silence the speaker, then addressed Zhang Desen. “Boy, you dare approach us here? Are you brave or ignorant? Leave your valuables, and I’ll spare you this once.”

The other bandits jeered, “Hurry up, kid! The Third Chief is in a good mood today. Hand over your things. Don’t think you can fool us with that mask. Even if you’re wearing armor, it’s useless!”

The Third Chief then ordered his henchman, “Go, see what he’s got on him.”

The henchman replied, “Alright, I’ll check.” He approached Zhang Desen, reaching out with his left hand to inspect his jacket pocket. Zhang Desen suddenly seized the henchman’s left hand with both of his own, exerting force until a crisp “crack” sounded—the henchman’s left hand was shattered.

The henchman screamed in agony, his cries echoing across the sky. Instinctively, he swung his knife with his right hand, but Zhang Desen caught his right wrist and struck his elbow with his left palm—both arms broken. A swift kick from Zhang Desen landed in the henchman’s abdomen, sending him flying back to the Third Chief’s feet, where he collapsed unconscious. Silence fell upon the scene.

Suddenly, the Third Chief erupted in anger, roaring at Zhang Desen, “Where did you come from, you little brat? Have you not heard my name? You dare hurt my men in front of me? If I don’t teach you a lesson today, you’ll never know why they call me the Skinning King. Let’s see what kind of skin you have—perhaps another addition to my collection.”

Upon hearing this, Zhang Desen realized the bandit was a collector of human skins, killing and flaying his victims, perhaps in even more gruesome ways. This villain could not be allowed to live.

As he pondered, he picked up his Type 95 assault rifle and affixed the bayonet. Once the bayonet was secured, Zhang Desen declared, “I’ve never heard of any mad dog’s reputation. I only know you’ve committed countless crimes. Today is your judgment day. If you have any courage, come at me yourself—don’t send your men to die first.”

The Third Chief grew even more furious. “Fine, fine! Let’s see if you can remain so arrogant. Brothers, attack!”

The bandits moved to strike, but Zhang Desen immediately threw specialized needles from his original universe—one for each opponent, each striking their head. All of them fell.

The Third Chief, witnessing this skill, felt a chill within but forced bravado. “Good, you have some tricks. Let me face you myself.”

He swung his broadsword at Zhang Desen, who merely smirked coldly. With a clang, Zhang Desen blocked the blow with the bayonet on his rifle, then swiftly kicked the Third Chief’s jaw, shattering the bone. The bandit screamed as he fell backward, dropping his blade. Zhang Desen picked up the weapon and beheaded the villain.

That very blade had ended the lives of many innocents, and now its owner perished by it—a fitting irony. After settling the matter at the village entrance, Zhang Desen kicked away the Third Chief’s head, delivered another blow to the henchman with his bayonet, discarded the blade, and strode boldly into the village.

Without firing a shot, relying solely on needles and bayonet, Zhang Desen dispatched many bandits, advancing unhindered. However, as he neared the southern part of the village, a dozen bandits appeared, led by a burly man on horseback. One bandit pointed at Zhang Desen, saying, “Second Chief, it’s him! I saw him kill the Third Chief and many of our brothers. You must avenge them!”

The Second Chief waved for silence, then addressed Zhang Desen. “Not bad, kid. My third brother was ranked third in martial prowess within our stronghold, only behind our chief and myself. That you could kill him speaks to your skill. Would you care to give your name?”

Still masked, Zhang Desen replied, “You murderous thieves are unworthy of knowing my name. All you need to know is that I’m a soldier who fights on the battlefield. I despise your kind and seek to kill you to protect the people and the land.”

The Second Chief responded, “Well said! You have spirit. Since you’re so bold, will you wait here for one hour? I believe my elder brother will be interested in killing you himself. Do you have the courage to remain here for an hour?”

Zhang Desen sneered, “You’re going to fetch reinforcements, aren’t you? That’s fine—I’d rather deal with all of you at once and not worry about any survivors causing trouble later. Just don’t make me wait an hour for nothing; I haven’t time to waste.”

The Second Chief agreed, “It’s settled. In one hour, my brother will come. Farewell!” With that, he led the remaining bandits away.

The villagers, previously in hiding, now gathered around Zhang Desen, cupping their hands in gratitude. “Thank you, brave warrior, for saving us from disaster.”

All expressed their thanks, and the village chief approached, saying, “Warrior, greetings. I am the chief of Mushi Village. On behalf of all, I thank you for your rescue. I have ordered a modest feast prepared so you may rest during this hour.”

Zhang Desen laughed inwardly. “Nice words, but you’re just afraid I’ll run away. If the bandits come and can’t find me, you’ll have trouble explaining yourselves. Still, it suits me—I’ll take the opportunity to rest.”

Having thought this, Zhang Desen replied, “Very well, I accept your hospitality. Please find me something to shade me from the sun. Also, I’d like to buy five sets of local clothing. Do you have any to sell?”

The chief responded eagerly, “Warrior, there’s no need to pay. I’ll have them prepared at once, all brand new, and won’t take a penny. It’s the least we can do to repay your kindness.”

Zhang Desen accepted with thanks and waited at the village entrance.