Moral Interrogation

"Don't complain to me about the master you serve! If you tell me all that, you'll definitely worry that I'll report you to your master. Will you still spare my life later?"

"I said I don't serve nobles. I came here partly because I have a deal I must make with your master, and partly because I have things I want to do myself."

"So you're a Slaughterer too?"

At that question and answer, the Arena Manager stopped walking and turned around.

Staring into Qin Xa's eyes, the not-so-bright middle-aged man gave Qin Xa a look that seemed to pose a moral interrogation.

"So you're a Slaughterer too," the Arena Manager continued. "It's just that you slaughter nobles instead of plebeians. But you're still a Slaughterer, still an executioner, still a murderous Butcher. You simply don't slaughter plebeians. But in terms of methods and morality, what makes you any different from those Plebeian Butchers you killed?"

Hearing that, Qin Xa looked into the Arena Manager's bright eyes, which brimmed with moral interrogation, and made it abundantly clear through his expression and movements that he had fallen into deep thought.

The Arena Manager continued staring at Qin Xa with bright eyes.

He clearly believed that slaughtering nobles was wrong, immoral. As someone promoted for obedience by a control-obsessed madman, he clearly lacked the cleverness to use an interrogation to stall for time or seek an opportunity to escape.

"Yeah." Qin Xa put on an enlightened expression, as though he had suddenly seen the light. "If I slaughter nobles, wouldn't that make me no different from those Slaughterers?"

"Mhm." The Arena Manager nodded.

Qin Xa lowered his head, his expression gradually turning pained. He clearly seemed trapped in the torment and struggle of his own thoughts.

The Arena Manager watched Qin Xa lower his head, still morally interrogating him with his gaze.

But then, the Arena Manager noticed Qin Xa suddenly raise his head slightly. Their eyes met in a fleeting glance that felt like a lifetime.

"Fuck you!"

Qin Xa leaped into the air, brought his feet together, and sent the Arena Manager flying through the library doors ten meters away with a flying kick.

The Arena Manager rolled more than ten meters across the floor before stopping. A belt Lord Tark had given him for escape injected him with medicine, rapidly repairing his body.

"I never mentally torment myself. I never subject myself to moral interrogation."

Qin Xa strode past the Arena Manager with his head held high, his tone forceful and arrogant.

"But don't think I have no morals. On the contrary, I believe my moral standards are practically a beacon and a pearl of light in this shit-pit of a world and universe!"

"So I have this confidence."

"Everything I do is justice. It is the manifestation of lofty moral principles of the spirit within the material universe. The ripples and consequences caused by my actions, every person and thing I change—they are the tangible manifestations of the abstract spiritual concepts of morality and justice within the material universe!"

"..." The Arena Manager climbed to his feet and no longer dared to say anything.

"Shut your mouth, stand there, and wait. Whatever I ask of you, you'll make it happen and do as told." Qin Xa casually pulled out a book and began reading.

"The Tark Patriarch definitely didn't send you here to kill me," the Arena Manager still insisted. "He sent you to kill the brother who came to see me today!"

Qin Xa grew annoyed by the nagging. Frowning at the page, he impatiently replied, "I didn't come here specifically to be an assassin, so I can't be bothered figuring out who exactly I'm supposed to kill. Tonight, you and that madman's brother will die together!"

"..." The Arena Manager fell silent.

Qin Xa walked over to the bookshelf, his sharp, eager gaze sweeping back and forth across it as he examined the titles. At last, his eyes settled on a book displayed in the most prominent spot. He immediately took it down and rapidly skimmed through it in front of the Arena Manager.

In the Arena Manager's eyes, Qin Xa read one page at a glance, at an astonishing speed. Yet his expression was serious, making it clear he was not merely pretending to be cultured in front of him, an immoral noble-slaying Butcher.

Both men were silent for a while.

The Arena Manager suddenly remembered something and asked, "What about my master's brother? What if he really did send you to kill his brother? Won't you mess it up if you don't go after him?"

"I know where he is. I know what he's doing. I have a hundred ways to make him come find me instead of wasting time looking for him."

Qin Xa continued reading.

The Arena Manager lowered his head helplessly, then suddenly raised his eyebrows in shock when he noticed a layer of frost clinging to the surface of his shoes.

A moment later.

Eron Tark stepped out through the suddenly opened doors of the underground shelter.

The intense gunfire and shouting had stopped. He had no idea where the intruder was, but the intruder had certainly slaughtered all several hundred guards in the manor.

The best choice Eron could think of—the best choice his brain could come up with—was to run.

It truly was the correct choice. If Qin Xa had been there, he would have considered Eron's decision completely correct as well.

But as Eron fled, he saw corpses scattered everywhere and the incomparably brutal aftermath of battle. His heart began to pound, and his fear grew stronger. He even started wondering whether he should return to the underground facility.

Yet after hesitating again and again, Eron finally forced himself onward, trudging through the bodies.

He ignored every side path and walked straight ahead. His instincts told him that was the right way.

Slowly, quietly, the nobleman passed by the library and saw light inside.

Eron cautiously looked inside and first spotted the Arena Manager.

If the Arena Manager had not invited him to visit his home, he would not have ended up trapped here tonight.

Before the Arena Manager, who stood with his head lowered, a towering figure nearly three meters tall stood beneath a massive bookshelf filled with books. He wore revealing clothes and held a book in his hands.

"Come in. I was planning to go into the underground facility and catch you, but now you've come to me."

Eron had just been about to sneak away when he heard the words from that imposing figure. He then realized in astonishment that he had been discovered.

Not believing he could contend with the other man, Eron obediently walked into the library.

The pale-faced Arena Manager turned and glanced at Eron. Eron returned a frightened look, then stood beside the Arena Manager.

"You know, even though I'm a warrior, I really like reading books. I really like learning knowledge."

The imposing figure turned around, his gaze fixed on the book in his hands.

Eron recognized him instantly. He was the executioner from the Arena who had killed all his sons.

Eron, whose father and mother were both Tarks, had poor memory. The reason he could recognize Qin Xa so quickly was Qin Xa's psychic power.

By splitting half his attention to sense and lock onto a Tark, then exerting a simple influence over his thoughts, Qin Xa could not yet turn someone into a puppet. But he firmly believed that with further development and more time, this application of psychic power would surely prove greatly useful.

"My master definitely wants you to kill him!" the Arena Manager repeated. "He told me to invite Lord Eron to the manor tonight!"

"This is your manor, not mine..." Eron suppressed his fear and defended himself.

Although Eron was a general.

Compared to the Butcher before him, who had turned a magnificent manor into a river of blood strewn with corpses, ninety-nine point nine percent of the enemies Eron had faced in his life seemed weak and powerless.

Faced with a real warrior rather than plebeians who suffered misfortune for one dissatisfied glance, Eron did not have enough courage.

"Which one of you is the noble he was talking about?"

Qin Xa faced Eron and the Arena Manager, but his eyes were not on either of them.

He held the book in his right hand, his eyes fixed on its pages. After waiting for their answer, he turned a page.

"This is his manor..." Eron repeated.

"It is my manor, that's right." The Arena Manager's face was as pale as a corpse's, but he still forced out a normal tone. "But anyone could figure out that Lord Tark absolutely doesn't want me dead. Lord Eron visited today, and then Lord Tark sent you here. Isn't the reason obvious?"

"My master sent me?" Qin Xa's gaze fell on the Arena Manager.

The Arena Manager spread his hands, as if asking: Wasn't that the case?

"..."

Qin Xa looked down at the Arena Manager with a calm expression.

Two seconds later, the Arena Manager's head exploded. Nothing remained above his neck, and Qin Xa, looking down at him, could see his black metal spine exposed to the air.

Eron was just about to let out an astonished exclamation when his head exploded as well.

Qin Xa glanced at the corpses on the floor, then expressionlessly turned around to look at other books.

He had intended to spare the Arena Manager's life, but only until he left, because the Arena Manager owned the manor and surely knew the place well.

But Qin Xa decided it would be better to put in a little extra effort, kill them, and enjoy some peace and quiet.