Everyone is Forbidden to Move, Robbery

They escaped!

The moment An Wu chopped open the prison cell, the Martial Monk realized something was wrong.

In Chang'an City, where people couldn't harm each other, capturing someone required the help of several people. Now that a dozen prisoners had escaped, it was impossible for just the two of them to solve the problem. The entire Anguo Temple had to come together to suppress this group!

He turned and punched the copper bell on the wall. Immediately, a clear and melodious sound echoed from it throughout the prison. Then, the two Martial Monks blocked the narrow passage and shouted, "You won't escape! As long as we block this place, none of you will fly away!"

This was why they spent so much effort digging underground to build the prison—in Chang'an, it might take five people to catch one person, but it only took two to block a hundred!

An Wu could cut through iron bars, but he couldn't hurt them!

Soon, Anguo Temple would close its doors, and dozens of Martial Monks would come down together to suppress these daring fellows. All they had to do was block them for a quarter of an hour… no, half a quarter of an hour would be enough!

An Wu didn't look at the Martial Monks. Instead, he turned to Xue Yan and the others and said, "After we go up, we'll attract the monks' attention. They won't be able to care about you. Then, you can find your own way to escape."

"Why didn't you save us earlier when you had medicine?"

"Yeah, why did you watch us go hungry for so many days?"

"You almost starved us to death!"

"Whose subordinates are you? How could you disregard our lives?"

As soon as they left the prison cell, people began to complain, and others echoed, all questioning An Wu and An Liu.

Xue Yan couldn't bear it any longer, and now that he had strength, he shouted, "A bunch of ungrateful fools! It was the bald donkeys of Anguo Temple who starved you, why are you scolding them? If they hadn't saved you, you wouldn't even know where you'd be sold off to!"

Immediately, a delicate noblewoman retorted, "Isn't their saving us also for merit? It's what they should do!"

"What they should do most is slap you in the face!"

It wasn't Xue Yan who spoke, but the petite Yang Third Miss. She almost jumped up and said, "Don't you just dare to say such nonsense because no one in Chang'an can hit you? You thought they were blocking the door these past few days to starve that bald donkey Ben Zhi? They were protecting us! You're a bunch of ungrateful beasts, not even a little bit—"

"Haha."

An Wu suddenly laughed. Everyone looked at him, but he lowered his head and muttered to himself, "There really are people who complain…"

He looked at the crowd and said something strange, "If you complain about me, then I have only one answer."

If? Wasn't this already happening?

"Although I want to save you, I won't care even if you suffer or die because of my actions," An Wu said calmly. "I save you only because I'm willing to."

"I don't need your gratitude, nor do I accept your complaints. I wouldn't mind if you all died right now."

"I save you only to make this world operate according to my will!"

Not to mention the complaining nobles, even Xue Yan and Yang Third Miss were stunned by An Wu's words.

Even the emperor wouldn't dare to say such arrogant words, right?

Before they could say anything, several dropping sounds suddenly echoed in the prison cell. They turned their heads and saw that they were actually identical quintuplets to An Wu and An Liu… or rather, quintuplets?

Even though some people were still scolding An Wu, An Wu and the others ignored the prisoners and instead went to move the kerosene cans that the Martial Monks had placed in the corner.

These kerosene cans were the Martial Monks' weapons for killing people and even destroying corpses, but… weapons don't distinguish between owners.

The Martial Monks blocking the stairwell knew what they wanted to do as soon as they saw them moving the kerosene cans. Seeing An Wu coming over, they scolded fiercely, "Want to burn me with kerosene? Hahaha, you have to burn yourself before you burn others, do you dare? We've been specially trained, you'll probably turn into roasted chicken as soon as you burn!"

An Wu picked up a can of kerosene and splashed it towards the Martial Monks. The Martial Monks were a little intimidated, but still unafraid—only flames on a human body could ignite the oil on them.

This was the law of the main city: only by harming oneself first could one exploit loopholes to harm others.

"An Wu," Xue Yan took off his coat, "use our clothes as padding—"

An Wu ignored them and instead poured kerosene on his right arm.

Even the Martial Monks, who weren't afraid of An Wu breaking open the prison, were finally terrified by this sight: "What do you want to do? Think carefully, people will die! You can't control kerosene once it burns—"

Whoosh!

An Wu touched his right arm to a candlestick, and it immediately burst into flames. The intense heat was so fierce that people didn't dare approach!

Without An Wu even needing to reach out, the Martial Monks covered in kerosene screamed and scrambled up the passage. An Wu followed closely behind, holding his right arm high like a torch, leading everyone out of the dark dungeon.

At this moment, even the nobles who had been loudly berating An Wu earlier obediently shut their mouths.

The iron gate at the end of the passage was closed, and it couldn't be opened from the inside; someone outside had to open it. Two Martial Monks frantically pounded on the iron gate. Soon, a fat-headed, big-eared monk opened the door and asked casually, "What's the rush? You accidentally touched the copper bell earlier, and I haven't even gone down to scold you—"

"Close the door!"

As the dungeon warden, the Martial Monks usually had to bow and scrape to him, but now the Martial Monks had no time to pay attention to him. They squeezed past him and ran out, only managing to leave a word behind.

The warden got some kerosene on his hand. Puzzled, he looked down the passage and saw a person holding a flaming hand running out.

The warden reacted quickly—he slammed the iron door shut, but the flaming hand was even faster, reaching out from the crack in the door first. However, the force of the iron door's weight was terrifying. The flaming hand's wrist was almost severed by the iron door, and charred flesh was smeared on the doorframe like minced meat. Pale, bloody bone fragments were exposed, making it hard to imagine the excruciating pain.

But!

But!

This almost broken hand was like the claws of a Yaksha demon, suffering day and night within the iron Weishan Mountain, reaching out to grab the warden's arm that had been touched by kerosene, as if wanting to drag him into the eighteen great hells to atone for his sins!

"Ahhhhh!"

The burning warden wailed and ran out, constantly striking the copper bell in the room and shouting outside, "Close the door! Close the door! The evil ghost is out of hell, the evil ghost is out of hell!"

At the same time, the Anguo Temple's main hall was enveloped in the sound of bells from all directions. The receptionist monk instructed people to close the hall doors while going to speak to the guests who had just entered: "Sorry, benefactors, there's a fire inside Anguo Temple. It's not convenient to receive guests at the moment. Please come back tomorrow."

The guest at the front was a strange person with bandages wrapped all over his head.

His companions were also strange: a mask merchant wearing a mask, a lively girl wearing sunglasses, and a young man whose temper was obviously terrible just by looking at him.

Seeing that they ignored him and continued to walk forward, the receptionist monk gave a signal to the Martial Monk next to the counter and hurried to close the door himself—the temple that opened the Longevity Vault for lending had both those who played the 'red face' and those who played the 'white face'.

"The timing is just right,"

The bandaged strange man pointed to the main hall door and said, "You see, someone will help us close the door."

"Then, let's start the mission."

He took out a mask from his pocket. The mask was of a yellow dog and looked quite cute. He put on the mask, casually drew his blade, and slashed at the approaching Martial Monk as if to say hello.

The Martial Monk was still confused. This was Chang'an City, what was he doing drawing his blade? Even if he slashed at someone, he wouldn't even break their clothes—

Pa.

It wasn't until a severed hand fell to the ground, splattering blood everywhere, that the pain, fed back by countless neurons simultaneously, finally activated the Martial Monk's sluggish brain.

It also activated the fear in all the surrounding monks.

"Ahhh—my hand, my hand!"

Yaoshi Yuan, Ying Ru Shi, and Shang Xin Lei all put on masks. Yan Qing walked in front, holding the dripping White Iron Straight Blade, and scanned the surroundings, saying:

"Everyone, don't move. This is a robbery."