Although They're Mentally ill, They're Extremely Easy to Comfort - Chapter 81

With a flying kick delivered from out of nowhere, Ji Nancen struck the two men who had just been chatting casually. One had his spine snapped instantly by the force of her descent; the other was sent flying several meters, coughing up blood from ruptured internal organs.

Under the dim moonlight of the dark night, a sleek and agile silhouette was cast upon the ground. She drew a dagger from her waist and slit a throat in one fluid motion, giving the opponent no chance to cry out for help.

Turning to the other man, she showed no mercy, leaving no survivors. Eliminating two combatants was a small contribution to easing the burden of the upcoming operation. She dragged the two corpses into the thicket, treating it as nothing more than a warm-up to stretch her muscles.

By the latter half of the night, just as Ji Nancen was beginning to regret not bringing dry rations, movement erupted within the manor—the sound of troops gathering and vehicles being prepared.

She hurriedly grabbed her binoculars, immediately counting the number of people preparing to depart. Curiously, Joe Di was nowhere to be seen among them.

Her fingers flew across her device as she edited messages, all while keeping her eyes glued to the manor, terrified of missing a single detail.

“Six vehicles, thirty people. Tsk, making quite a scene, aren’t they?” Sensing something was off, Ji Nancen muttered to herself and immediately reported the situation to Zanda.

Unsettled by the feeling that something was wrong, she dialed Zanda’s number.

“Zanda, I don’t think this is right. Arranging so many people to set off so ostentatiously… it feels like a performance staged just for us.”

“He’s fond of smoke and mirrors,” Zanda replied. “Perhaps it is just a show.”

“If that’s the case, we’re in a very passive position.”

“You didn’t see Joe di?”

“A large wave of his subordinates left, but I haven’t seen the man himself.”

“Keep watching. Stay in constant contact.”

“OK.”

Hanging up the phone, Ji Nancen ruminated on the conversation of the two men she had killed. Which side held the reliable information?

As dawn broke, the sound of engines cutting out echoed outside the church. Qu Ye saw it clearly: Joe Di’s men had indeed arrived. Fully armed, they deployed in a practiced formation, taking up sentry positions with great skill.

But where was the man? Where was Joe di?

After watching for a long time, Qu Ye saw nothing but a sea of subordinates in black; Jody was nowhere to be found. Soon, leaving behind the guards at the door, the rest of the men filed into the main hall in unison.

Zanda didn’t dare make a sound, peering through the gaps of a holy statue. He cleverly saw through Joe Di’s little trick. Every man was dressed identically—uniform hats and sunglasses—making it impossible for him and Qu Ye to identify their target.

The men sat down scattered throughout the hall, creating a visual mess. Even from his high vantage point, Qu Ye could see nothing but a cluster of black hats. He grew frustrated.

The prayer service wasn’t long; Jody would leave after reciting the prayers. Zanda’s eagle eyes darted around, searching for a discrepancy. He remained calm, scanning his memory for Joe di’s characteristics.

Suddenly, a flash of insight hit him: The cross. Yes, Joe Di always wore his beloved cross around his neck. That was the only distinguishing feature Zanda remembered from the failed operation the night before.

Scanning the room once more, he finally spotted a slight difference in the very last row.

A radio would emit frequency noise, but Qu Ye was the only one in a position to strike. While Zanda pondered how to signal him, Qu Ye messaged first:

“Found him?” “Your position, three o’clock, far corner.” “Strike?” “Not yet.”

Just as Qu Ye received that message, Zanda did something unthinkable: He walked out from behind the statue.

In that same instant, everyone in the hall stood up and drew their weapons, aiming directly at him. Zanda raised his hands and walked slowly toward the front of the Great Cross. It was a reckless move—he was gambling on Joe Di’s piety.

“Put the guns down.” As expected, the man in the corner was indeed Jody. At his command, the men lowered their weapons.

Zanda stood with his hands clasped in front of him, bathed in the sacred golden light filtering through the hall. “It seems you love your God very much.”

Joe Di remained seated, equally surprised by Zanda’s decision to reveal himself. “You are very bold.”

Joe Di admired Zanda; he even felt that, given the chance, he would like to keep such a powerful warrior by his side.

Zanda was stalling for time. Realizing that he and Qu Ye might not be able to handle Jody alone, he turned to theology. “Guess who God will favor today?”

“Do not presumptuously speculate on the will of God; that is sacrilege.”

The two traded words. Zanda tilted his head slightly, pointing to the “Gates of Heaven” held aloft by the saint behind him. “Sacrilege? That word fits you perfectly. Your prayers and piety are for atonement. Others atone for original sin, but you… you cannot even wash away your own actual sins. You won’t be entering that gate.”

“The world is full of suffering; no life is purely good,” Joe Di countered, standing up at last. He walked slowly to the front until he was only a few meters from Zanda. “Take yourself, for instance—aren’t your hands also covered in blood? What right do you have to criticize my actions? It’s merely a difference in perspective.”

Zanda looked at Jody’s torso and sneered. “You’re still afraid of death. That bulging bulletproof vest proves everything.”

He spoke loudly on purpose, ensuring Qu Ye could hear.

“I value my life,” Jody laughed boisterously, not denying the claim. “I’m standing right in front of you. Go ahead, take my life then.”

This blatant provocation didn’t stir Zanda’s anger. He coolly wove a lie: “Miss Boer taught us many things; using a small force to move a great weight is a trick that never fails. Perhaps she has already left the manor by now.”

“A diversion? You have ideas, but… I am not that easily fooled.”

“What do you mean?” Zanda felt a pang of unease. Jody pulled a remote control from his inner lining.

“If I die, I’m taking someone with me. When the time comes, don’t forget to build a joint grave for me and Boer.”

“You bastard!”

Joe Di held them hostage with a threat. Whether it was a real bomb remote or not, no one knew—but with the threat imminent, Zanda didn’t dare move.

Joe Di tilted his head, continuing his coercion: “Hand over the other two. I’m only saying this once.”

Perched on the dome, Qu Ye caught movement at the entrance. He looked back; Ji Nancen had arrived.

She had neutralized the guards at the door with effortless brutality, looking as though she had “gone red” with battle lust. The submachine gun slung across her chest was now held high in her hands.

Zanda was unaware of the situation outside. He could only raise his voice and roar at the top of his lungs: “Qu Ye!”

That single roar startled Qu Ye, who immediately leveled his gun at Joe Di. Following Zanda’s gaze, Jody looked up toward the dome and flashed a provocative smile at Qu Ye: “Go ahead, shoot me.”

Qu Ye saw the remote in his hand and hesitated.

“Drop the gun and get down here!”

Hearing Zanda’s command, Qu Ye had no choice but to drop his weapon from the heights.

Joe Di was ecstatic. He couldn’t help but mockingly praise Zanda: “Boer has raised a few good dogs; I’m truly envious.”

To get from the dome to the ground, Qu Ye had to pass through the main doors of the hall. Ji Nancen, her back pressed against the outer wall, was confused as to why he was abandoning his post. She hissed a question: “What’s the situation?”

Time was of the essence. Qu Ye didn’t dare delay and kept it brief: “Jody might have rigged Miss Boer with a bomb.”

“Don’t panic. Trust me. I’ll be inside shortly,” Ji Nancen patted Qu Ye’s shoulder with a firm, steadying promise.

Qu Ye walked inside without looking back, intentionally leaving the door ajar.

Walking silently up to Joe Di, Qu Ye unbuckled his gear belt and threw it on the floor as a gesture of surrender.

Joe Di sized him up and continued to probe: “Wait—there’s one more partner. Where is she?”

“She’s staking out the manor to report your movements so we’d know when to strike,” Qu Ye replied. This answer satisfied Jody, who nodded: “That makes sense.”

“Kneel.” Joe Di signaled for them to get on the ground.

Zanda and Qu Ye could only endure the humiliation. They placed their hands behind their heads and slowly lowered themselves. Joe Di looked down on them from his height, sneering: “If you’re willing to lick my boots, I might just let you live.”

Savoring the thrill of crushing a man’s dignity, Joe Di’s ugly soul was fully exposed before the eyes of God.

Qu Ye crawled toward Jody’s feet like a dog, slowly extending his tongue. He was struggling, but he was also waiting. Zanda, unable to accept such degradation, remained motionless.

“It seems even among ‘good dogs,’ there is a divide between the loyal and the cowardly,” Joe Di Jody’s eyes darted between Zanda and Qu Ye. He intentionally tapped his foot to a rhythm so that Qu Ye couldn’t reach his boot.

RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!

Just as Joe Di was basking in his triumph, the ear-piercing roar of a submachine gun echoed through the hallowed hall.

At this moment, Ji Nancen became a God.

With both hands gripping her weapon and her pace steady, she struck when they least expected it. In an instant, the row of subordinates behind Joe Di collapsed like dominoes.

The moment the gunfire erupted, Zanda and Qu Ye’s years of elite combat experience kicked in.

Zanda’s powerful legs acted like coiled springs. He lunged at Jody like a fanged tiger, tackling him to the ground. Simultaneously, Qu Ye drew the Engisha knife tucked into his boot. This luxurious blade represented Qiao Boer’s recognition and expectations of him; at this moment, he was the blade.

The edge of the Engisha precisely sliced through Jody’s wrist. The agonizing pain of severed tendons made it impossible for him to press the remote.

Ji Nancen ejected her empty magazine, hurling it directly into the face of a man lunging at her. She nimbly pulled a fresh clip from her vest, slammed it home, and dropped to her knees behind cover, narrowly dodging return fire. She tilted her submachine gun and unleashed another volley—she didn’t need to kill them, only to shatter the legs of anyone trying to fire back.

“EVERYONE STOP!” Jody’s agonized scream echoed through the hall. The firefight ceased.

When the remaining subordinates turned to look, they saw Zanda’s thick arm locked around Jody’s neck, while Qu Ye’s knife had already severed the tendons in his other wrist. Knowing how cunning Jody was, they didn’t hesitate; they swiftly stripped him of every hidden firearm.

Ji Nancen’s arm was wounded, but she hadn’t taken a bullet to the body. Clutching her arm, she walked through the crowd and stood before Joe Di, looking him up and down. She didn’t miss the chance to taunt him: “I knew it… so you were disguised as one of your own useless henchmen.”

Cold sweat beaded on Joe Di Jody’s forehead. He turned pale and forced a laugh. “What a joke. I have thirty men, all with the best equipment, and I couldn’t beat the three of you.”

“How can you compare these useless curs to PA-40 mercenaries?” Ji Nancen mocked.

“You underestimated us too much,” Qu Ye added, picking up a fallen gun and delivering a punch with the grip. “And I should thank you for the offer to lick your boots.”

Zanda pressed the barrel of his gun against the back of Joe Di’s neck and chambered a round. That click signified that Jody’s life now hung by a thread. “A bulletproof vest won’t save you here.”

Joe Di wrinkled his nose, still stubborn. “You wouldn’t dare. I want to see Boer!”

“I’m afraid… Miss Boer has no interest in seeing you,” Zanda sneered. “If you want to live, tell your men to throw their guns over.”

Seeing his men dead or incapacitated, Joe Di had no choice. He rasped the order: “Drop your weapons! All of you!”

The subordinates complied, surrendering their arms and kneeling with their hands on their heads. Ji Nancen swept the area with her gun to ensure no one was hiding a weapon, then gave the OK sign.

A sinister smile played on Zanda’s lips. He leaned into Joe Di’s ear and whispered: “We’ve waited for this day for too many years. Miss Boer hid so hard, yet she still couldn’t escape you. You brought this on yourself.”

“You bastard! What more do you want?!” Joe Di exploded in a rage, screaming desperately: “You tricked me! My men have already surrendered!”

“Don’t forget, we are mercenaries… you should understand that all is fair in war,” Zanda countered coldly. He left Joe Di with one final piece of advice: “Today, God did not favor you. And you… are destined never to enter His gates.”

BOOM!

The trigger was pulled. The Magnum Eagle let out a heavy roar. The headshot resulted in a spray of blood and tissue, staining Zanda’s face a deep crimson.

The morning light of Florence arrived as promised. Through the “Gates of Heaven” held by the saint, a golden glow draped over the three of them. No one dared to challenge them again.

Zanda shouldered Joe Di’s mangled corpse and walked forward. At this moment, they stepped through a path of blood, finally opening the gates of a new dawn for Qiao Boer.

God loathes sacrilege, but He loves all living beings.

Support