Chapter 25: At Odds with the World?

Early the next morning.

The train pulled into the station.

Just like the last time, the platform was packed with people. The crowd surged, noisy and chaotic. However, before the passengers could even disembark, a group of policemen in black uniforms rushed over, shoved through the crowd, and pushed their way into the coal carriage.

In this era, policemen had seen more than their fair share of corpses. Most were hardened men with nerves of steel, unlikely to have their knees go weak at the mere sight of the dead. Yet, upon entering the coal carriage and being confronted by the gruesome scene, they couldn't help but gasp, only to choke on the thick, metallic stench of blood.

Blood. It was everywhere.

It had soaked through the carriage floor and seeped over the coal, pooling with fine dust at the threshold leading to the third-class cabin, forming a sludge of blackish-red gore. The sludge emitted a putrid, rotten odor. Stepping into it felt like sinking into a bog, with a viscous, dragging sensation that made one feel as if they had stumbled into a swamp of flesh and bone, a bottomless abyss ready to swallow them whole.

Terrified by the spectacle, the policemen scrambled back out. No matter how their superiors scolded them, they refused to step inside again. The carnage—the ground covered in pulverized, unrecognizable meat—was something a shovel could barely clear, and these men, accustomed to throwing their weight around, had no stomach for such grim labor.

Before long, they found a solution. A group of ragged, destitute people was brought in to clear the carriage. Not long after, mangled, broken corpses were shoveled out one by one.

Meanwhile, the platforms on both sides of the train were lined with curious onlookers, whispering and pointing.

"My god, what happened here? Why are so many people dead?"

"Yeah, and so brutally, too. Are these poor souls who were run over by the train?"

"How could they be run over by the train? Look closely, man! They’re carrying these bodies out from inside the carriage!"

"Damn, that’s savage. Could there be some ruthless criminal hiding on the train?"

"I just asked around. Rumor has it a gang of human traffickers was hiding in that carriage, kidnapping children. They even practiced 'cai sheng zhe ge'—mutilating a child and chopping off their limbs. But this gang ran into something wicked. In the middle of the night, a figure radiating golden light appeared, carrying a thousand-pound iron bucket, and slaughtered them all."

"A man glowing with gold, swinging a thousand-pound bucket to kill traffickers? Is that for real? It sounds like a storyteller's tall tale. What kind of deity descended to earth?"

"Who knows? But that method was a bit too cruel, wasn't it? It looks like they were beaten into a pulp!"

"Cruel? I don't see it. Scum like traffickers who lack a shred of conscience deserve to be hacked to pieces. This way of dying seems just fine to me!"

Inside the station, the crowd chattered away, trading various bits of gossip. The train, which should have departed on time, was delayed as the police pretended to investigate the murderer while busy confirming the identities of the parents of the lost children.

The culprit behind this incident, meanwhile, was walking down the street with an ice pack pressed against his bruised eye. He carried a large bundle in his hand, his eyes fixed coolly on Zhang Jingqing, who was strolling confidently ahead of him.

The bundle in his hand was the "loot" he had scavenged after killing the kidnappers; it was stuffed with silver dollars that clinked with every step.

*Tsk, tsk, tsk...* It really is true that killing and arson lead to golden belts!

Zhang Zhiwei couldn't help but sigh to himself. Back at Mount Longhu, he could spend a whole year painstakingly drawing low-level talismans to sell, and it wouldn't even come close to what he had made in these past few days.

This is the reward for punishing evil and promoting good... Mumbling to himself, Zhang Zhiwei tucked away the money bag and looked ahead. He noticed his master had stopped in his tracks.

Just as he was about to ask why, he saw an opium den ahead, shrouded in thick, swirling smoke. In the future, this was a scourge everyone would want to eradicate, but in this day and age, they were everywhere. He watched as his master, Zhang Jingqing, gazed at the den with a heavy expression.

"Master, shall I burn this wretched place to the ground?" Zhang Zhiwei asked.

Zhang Jingqing: "..."

"Control yourself!" Zhang Jingqing shot him a glare and continued, "What good would burning it do? The roots are rotten. I once made a point to destroy many of these myself, but I later realized that they are like bamboo shoots after a spring rain—they can never be wiped out. You destroy one, and a new one pops up a few days later."

Zhang Zhiwei replied, "Why didn't you just kill the people running these dens, Master?"

Zhang Jingqing squinted at him. "Always burning things, always killing people—you are a man of the cloth, don't act like a gangster!"

"Master, I was too impatient. How should a man of the cloth put it to sound more… refined?"

Zhang Jingqing said with a straight face, "A man of the cloth speaks of 'offering salvation'!"

"I see!" Zhang Zhiwei's eyes lit up. "Master, I have attained enlightenment!"

Zhang Jingqing: "..."

What kind of nonsense is this? How does this kid manage to find enlightenment in everything?

"What exactly have you attained?" Zhang Jingqing asked.

"Everyone must face death eventually, and some people just need a little extra help along the way!" Zhang Zhiwei replied with a solemn expression. "It means that the world is full of suffering, and only one can save oneself. But some are so mired in sin that they cannot save themselves, so they require a bit of assistance to be liberated from this sea of worldly misery!"

Zhang Jingqing: "..."

"You certainly have a knack for twisted logic. But do you even know who owns these opium dens?" Zhang Jingqing asked.

Zhang Zhiwei opened a palm, where tiny arcs of electricity crackled and wove together. "Who cares who they are? Under my 'Palm Thunder,' all beings are equal. Kings, nobles, generals—they're all the same!"

"All the same? Do you have any idea how deep the interests involved here go?" Zhang Jingqing said. "There are foreign devils, socialites, high-ranking officials, Japanese, warlords, wicked heretics, and even members of righteous sects. If you strike at them, you are making an enemy of the world!"

"Making an enemy of the world?"

Zhang Zhiwei said, "In this disciple's eyes, those who run these dens are nothing but lowly curs and mongrels who can only engage in petty theft and bring ruin to the nation. They are rats. What right do they have to represent the world?"

"If I encounter them, I will kill every one I see. I will kill them in pairs if I have to. I'd like to see if the world made up of these curs and mongrels can actually stop me!"

Zhang Jingqing sighed and looked at Zhang Zhiwei. Ever since he had "toppled the alchemy furnace" and unleashed his inner monkey, this wretch had become increasingly arrogant and dismissive of everything. It had only been a few days, and he was already clamoring to make an enemy of the world.

However, arrogant as he was, his words were crude but true. Those filthy things truly deserved to die. But some things in this world could not be decided by violence alone. The stronger one became, the more one could feel just how small one truly was.