After Transmigrating into a Book as Cannon Fodder, I Pampered the Villain - Chapter 43

Chapter 43: Counter-Kill

In that split second before death, Yu Yingxia had to thank the original host’s body. Despite her own panic, the physical instincts honed by years of training took over, forcing her to lunge in the only direction that offered an escape.

Her right foot was still snared in the black spiritual net. She had avoided the lethal strike, but she wasn’t free. The first assassin pivoted instantly for a second attack, while the one crushed by the boulder staggered to his feet, having finally recovered.

Trapped in a narrow alleyway between two shops, her path blocked at both ends and her leg bound, Yingxia felt a true sense of despair.

The first image that flashed in her mind was Yan Huaixi. She hoped the woman would sense the danger and come back for her.

… Bitterness welled up in her heart. Better to rely on oneself than wait for a rescue that might never come.

She felt lucky she had developed the habit of carrying a brush. It wasn’t an ordinary brush, but a medium-grade spiritual tool her only weapon.

She told herself: I have entered the Path. I can control spiritual energy. These assassins were likely only at the Lian Ji Zhu Ji (Refining Self and Foundation) stage. If they were even one tier higher, she wouldn’t have stood a chance.

She wasn’t a helpless mundane person anymore. If she could kill a living corpse with a brick while powerless, she could counter-kill two assassins now!

The uninjured assassin lunged first, his dagger weaving a net of cold light that tore through Yingxia’s flimsy spiritual shield. She hadn’t expected the shield to hold; it was a distraction. The moment the dagger pierced the barrier, her soul-path technique was ready.

The assassin suddenly stumbled. Behind his mask, his eyes flashed with confusion. How… His body refused to obey him.

The second assassin was closing in from behind. Yingxia knew her “Soul Control” on the first man would only last seconds. She had to make them count.

Gritting her teeth, she manifested several soul threads and yanked the first assassin toward her. The threads snapped one by one, sending a jolt of agony through her brain. Her face went deathly pale, but she successfully swapped positions with him.

Puchi! The sound of steel piercing flesh echoed. The first assassin was impaled by his own comrade!

“Aaaaagh!!!” A blood-curdling scream erupted. Normally, this would have drawn a crowd, but the assassins had set up a barrier; no sound could escape.

Furious from his earlier failures, the second assassin had used his ultimate move. His blade exploded with violent energy, blowing a massive hole in his partner’s chest. The first assassin died with his eyes wide open.

Yingxia tried to dodge, but she was still sprayed with warm blood and bits of flesh. The sight of such a gruesome, close-range death made her mind go blank. She had seen corpses, but she had never seen a life extinguished so brutally right before her eyes.

Cold sweat drenched her back. If I had been a second slower, that would be me.

The second assassin froze, realizing he had killed his partner. He wasn’t a professional; he had committed the amateur sin of getting distracted before the target was confirmed dead.

By the time he realized the danger and tried to pull his weapon back, a jade brush had pierced through his throat. Yingxia poured every offensive spell she knew into that one strike.

The second assassin collapsed without a sound.

As the jade brush was pulled out, a fountain of blood soaked Yingxia’s face.

The two assassins were motionless. As the silence broke and the barrier faded, the mundane sounds of the city returned.

Yingxia’s strength left her. She leaned against the wall and began to retch. While the first man was killed by his friend, the second had died by her own hand. She tried to wipe the blood onto her clothes, but the smell wouldn’t leave. For a law-abiding citizen from a modern era, the sensation of hot blood on her face was a psychological nightmare.

She didn’t regret it—it was survival. Shakily, she left the scene.

Shortly after she staggered away, the second assassin’s eyes twitched. He reached for his pierced throat, and his flesh began to knit back together. He stood up, eyes dark with malice.

Who provided the intel?! They said she was a mortal! One dead, one injured. If he hadn’t used his secret “Death-Feign” technique, he’d be finished. He decided he would report the intelligence gatherers the moment he got back. Next time, they would need an Elder to ensure the kill.

He took one step toward escape—and then a power so immense it warped the very space around him slammed down. He couldn’t even turn around. The sheer pressure of a being several tiers higher forced him to his knees.

Blood leaked from his eyes and ears. He couldn’t feel pain because his soul was already numb with terror.

He heard footsteps. Slow. Leisurely. Like someone walking through their private garden who had just found a pest in a trap.

A crimson hem appeared in his blurred vision.

“How careless,” a cold, mocking voice spoke from above. It was a voice brimming with suppressed rage. “I should have taught her sooner, but I was always worried she’d be frightened. I didn’t expect pieces of filth like you to take advantage of that.”

Crack. With a flick of her power, the assassin’s body was extinguished.

But his consciousness didn’t vanish. His soul floated up, staring at his own corpse and the corpse of his comrade.

Yan Huaixi looked up. Her blood-red dress seemed to blend with the gore on the ground. She stared at the two souls, her eyes like a deep-sea vortex. Within moments, their souls were torn apart, their screams silenced forever.

She burned the bodies to ash. Normally, she would have made them suffer, but with the Tianqiu Elders missing, she needed to keep the trail clean.

She had watched the “counter-kill” from the shadows. She had purposely let Yingxia fight to gain experience, though it pained her to see her “rabbit” so panicked. Yingxia had been surprisingly decisive at the end.

Yan extracted the memories from the souls. Corpse Refiners, she realized. Using stolen Sect of Longevity techniques to frame her, and then trying to kill her rabbit because she had exposed them?

“Hmph.” Yan pulled out a short flute. A cold wind swept through Sanxi City. At her command, every lingering ghost and remnant soul in the city began to gather, moving underground toward her.

“Sss… so cold,” a passerby muttered nearby. “The weather is cursed today.”

Yan finished her tune, her face turning slightly pale as she coughed. This body was still weak. She gave the ghosts their orders: Find the nest of those worms.

Yan returned home using her spiritual power, expecting to find Yingxia hiding in her room. Instead, she found her by the well.

Yingxia was frantically scrubbing her hands and face with cold water. The blood was gone, but the psychological stain remained.

Yan frowned and pulled her up, casting a Purification Spell. A flash of light, and every speck of dust and blood vanished.

“It’s clean now,” Yan said, catching Yingxia’s red, raw hands to stop her from scrubbing. “Look at your hands. If you keep going, you’ll tear the skin.”

Yingxia looked at her blankly. The sight of Yan’s protective presence finally snapped her last string of composure. The fear and a strange sense of grievance surged. Her eyes reddened, and tears began to fall silently.

Yan was reminded of her own childhood. The first time she killed, she had crouched by a lake trying to scrub the skin off her hands, too. But she had been alone.

Yan pulled the girl into her arms. “Don’t be afraid. They are dead. They sought their own deaths. You did well.”

“You don’t have to train tonight. I’ll have Jiang Li make you a sedative. Sleep, and tomorrow you’ll feel better.”

Yingxia finally let out a choked sob, burying her face in Yan’s shoulder. Yan didn’t care about her own clothes getting wet. She just held her, stroking her back like one would a frightened child.

Jiang Li walked into the courtyard after a day of wandering and froze at the sight of them hugging.

Yingxia looked up, her face a mess of tears, and immediately hid back in Yan’s chest. Yan turned an annoyed glare on Jiang Li.

“Don’t just stand there. Go brew a sedative,” Yan snapped.

Jiang Li blinked and hurried off. As she passed, she sent a mental transmission: Master, is she okay?

She’s fine. She just encountered two assassins. She’s not used to killing yet.

Jiang Li was baffled. The ‘Protector Yu’ in her mind wasn’t this fragile.

When the door closed, Yan teased, “Don’t be shy. Jiang Li won’t be back for a while. Look up, aren’t you suffocating?”

Yingxia looked up. Because her face was already red from crying, her blush wasn’t obvious. But then she noticed a dark stain on Yan’s sleeve. “Sister… is that blood on your clothes?”

“I cleaned up the mess for you. I must have brushed against the wall,” Yan said dismissively, casting a purification spell on herself.

“Thank you for taking care of it,” Yingxia whispered. If she didn’t know Yan’s true nature, she really would have fallen for this tenderness.

“It was nothing.” Yan pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped the tear tracks from Yingxia’s face, her movements as delicate as if she were handling a priceless treasure.

A surge of sourness hit Yingxia’s heart. She didn’t know how much of Yan’s warmth was real.

Why should I be the only one falling?

Yingxia leaned deeper into Yan’s embrace, looking like a girl lost in devotion and fear. She reached out her hand. Yan moved to hold it, but instead of a normal grip, she felt Yingxia’s fingers lightly, teasingly brush her palm.

A tingle of electricity shot straight to Yan’s heart.

This…

Yan’s hand trembled. She had seen this in books—it was a flirtatious move.

She looked down, but Yingxia’s eyes were filled only with pure, innocent reliance.

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