His cry had barely faded when an even more agonized scream rang out from the other side.
The skinny man's gray, rocky skin shattered like an eggshell the moment Huang Fei's Blue Silver Grass vines wrapped around him.
Huang Fei crouched on the ground, one hand pressed against the skinny man's chest and the other braced on his knee. He tilted his head, looking down at the fellow wrapped up like a rice dumpling. A Yellow Soul Ring hovered beside his feet, slowly spinning.
The skinny man's face had turned liver-purple, and shards of his rocky skin were still falling away. The vines had him wrapped up tight, leaving only his head and feet exposed. He looked like a green mummy. The vines had tightened just enough—not enough to hurt him, but more than enough to keep him from breaking free.
"What the hell is this thing?!" The skinny man's voice went shrill as he struggled and discovered something terrifying: his rocky skin hadn't been crushed by the vines. It had been "split" apart. The force wasn't coming from external pressure, but from the vines themselves as they grew.
The vines had "grown" into the cracks in his rocky skin, like plant roots burrowing into soil, then split the rock from the inside.
This was the first time Huang Fei had used his Soul Skill in actual combat since absorbing a genuine First Soul Ring.
The eight-hundred-and-sixty-year-old Vine of Life was even more astonishing than he'd expected.
Tang San's Entangle Soul Skill relied on the toughness and regenerative abilities of his vines. Huang Fei's vines had those same qualities, but they also possessed a nearly brutal "growing force." After touching a target, they automatically adjusted their direction of growth to match its shape and texture, seeping into every crack like flowing water and breaking down the opponent's defenses from within.
The skinny man's rocky skin hadn't been crushed by the vines—it had been "grown" apart from the inside.
Huang Fei glanced down at the Yellow Soul Ring by his feet and curled the corner of his mouth.
Not bad.
He rose to his feet, dusted off his knees, and turned to look at Tang San.
Over on Tang San's side, the scar-faced man had given up resisting completely. He'd withdrawn his Gray Wolf Martial Soul, tossed aside his short knife, and raised both hands over his head. The vines around his neck still held him fast, and he didn't dare move.
On Xiao Wu's side, the fat man was sprawled on the ground with both Bear Paws spread wide, signaling his surrender.
From the moment they attacked to the moment they were subdued, the three bandits had lasted less than ten seconds.
The official road fell quiet again. Only the wind rustling through the poplar leaves could be heard.
Tang San pulled a rope from his waist and tossed it to Huang Fei, then took another from inside his clothes. The two of them each bound one of the scar-faced man and the skinny man securely. Xiao Wu stomped on the fat man's back once more to make sure he really wasn't moving, then climbed off him.
"Tell me. Who sent you?" Tang San crouched in front of the scar-faced man. His voice was quiet, but every word carried a weight that bore down on him.
The scar-faced man's lips trembled. He didn't dare look at Tang San, his eyes darting wildly to the side.
"N-no one sent us. We just wanted to get some money to spend..."
Tang San said nothing. He simply watched him in silence.
The scar-faced man's eyes began to flicker as they darted about, unable to meet Tang San's gaze. Back in the Tang Sect, Tang San had interrogated hard cases a hundred times more difficult than petty thieves like this. Lies of this caliber were child's play to him.
He slowly raised his right hand. Blue Silver Grass vines coiled around his wrist, moving like a snake poised to strike.
"I'll ask one last time."
The scar-faced man's Adam's apple bobbed, and cold sweat rolled down his forehead.
He opened his mouth, about to speak—
"We'll confess! We'll tell you everything!"
The skinny man, bound up like a rice dumpling beside him, broke first and shrieked.
The skinny man's cries echoed down the empty road, startling a flock of sparrows in the woods.
"We'll confess! We'll tell you everything! Don't hit us! Please, don't hit us!" His voice was so shrill it sounded like someone had a hand around his throat. With shards of rocky skin split apart by Huang Fei's vines all over him, he looked both wretched and ridiculous.
Tang San stopped and turned around, looking down at the skinny man. Blue Silver Grass vines still coiled around his wrist, unretracted, as if ready to strike again at any moment.
"Then talk."
The skinny man swallowed. His lips trembled several times before he finally forced a sentence out of his throat.
"N-no one sent us... We just... got the idea ourselves, on the spur of the moment..."
Even he felt guilty saying it. His voice grew quieter and quieter until the last few words were barely louder than a mosquito.
Tang San frowned.
Not because he didn't believe him, but because he believed him too much.
These three really didn't look like they'd been sent by someone. First-ring Soul Masters around level eleven or twelve, with white Soul Rings and practically no combat skills. They couldn't even manage the most basic cooperation between their Martial Souls. All three had charged in and fought on their own, like three headless flies. Anyone who sent these losers to do anything was either stupid or broke.
"On the spur of the moment?" Tang San repeated the words. His tone wasn't harsh, but it carried unmistakable scrutiny.
When the scar-faced man heard that his companion had confessed, he couldn't hold out any longer either. The vines around his neck still hadn't loosened, and with every word he spoke he could feel them tightening a little, as if warning him, "Don't lie." Beads of sweat rolled down his face one after another, running along his crooked scar before dripping to the ground.
"We really did decide on the spur of the moment!" the scar-faced man said, his voice close to tears. "The three of us were heading to Nuoding City to find work. We saw you three coming from that way. You were wearing coarse clothes, but the way you walked didn't look like poor kids... Especially that—" He jerked his chin toward Huang Fei. "The way he walks, all swaggering and carefree. You can tell at a glance he's never gone hungry..."
Huang Fei leaned against a poplar by the roadside with his hands tucked into his sleeves. At that, he raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Me?" He pointed to his nose, his tone a little odd. "What's wrong with the way I walk?"
The scar-faced man didn't dare answer.
But the fat man, who'd been lying on the ground pretending to be dead, grunted out an addition. "It's that... confident look. Not afraid of people. Doesn't avoid anyone. We've been robbing travelers for years. You can tell at a glance—kids like that are bound to have money on them."
Huang Fei fell silent for a moment. He looked the three bandits up and down, then slowly spoke.
"You've been robbing travelers for years, and this is the best you can do?"
The three bandits fell silent at the same time.
It was a pointed question, because they really weren't any good. Three first-ring Soul Masters with white Soul Rings were bottom of the barrel in the Soul Master World. Other bandits at least had iron weapons. These three flashed their Martial Souls, showed off their white Soul Rings, and lost half their nerve before the fight even started.
Before you continue