Assassination

With the moon already high in the sky, seven black-clad figures appeared, shattering the peaceful night that should have belonged to Fujiang District.

They were all short, their faces covered by black veils that revealed only a pair of lifeless eyes, fixed on the two-story building across from them—the very place where Hongjiang and Fuzi had spent the day.

"The target hasn't left, right?"

"He's been drinking all day. He's nothing but a drunk cat by now."

The black-clad man in the middle nodded and beckoned to the person beside him. In a hoarse whisper, he said, "Tell us about the inside of the house!"

At his words, the black-clad man on the far left crouched and shuffled to the center of the group. He dropped to one knee, took a roll of paper from inside his clothes, and slowly spread it out on the ground before him.

"This is the entryway, and the stairs to the second floor are right beside it. There are three bedrooms in total, all on the second floor. The target is in this bedroom right now. There are five windows upstairs: two facing the street, two at the back, and the last one at the end of the second-floor hallway on the north side."

"Could the target be downstairs?"

"Unless he got up in the night and decided to sleep somewhere else, there's no way!"

The leader thought for a moment, then pointed at the plan on the ground and gave his orders. "I'll take number two and number three to cover the windows on three sides of the second floor. Numbers six and seven will wait outside the ground-floor windows. The rest of you will sneak in through the front door. Check the ground floor, then go upstairs and let the others in. Number two or I will carry out the body. Is that clear?"

Everyone nodded in unison. The leader raised his right hand and gave a sharp wave. The seven black-clad figures vanished in an instant, blocking off every exit from the building across the street.

Needless to say, these seven men were the assassins sent to kill Hongjiang by the mysterious man in Seireitei.

Perhaps their strength would have ranked only in the upper-middle tier among the Gotei 13. But when it came to taking lives, every one of them was an unparalleled expert!

Without a sound, two uninvited guests slipped into Fuzi's house. The two didn't even exchange a glance. One made a tiny hole in the paper door to watch what was happening inside, while the other pressed against the wall, listening for any movement upstairs.

As it turned out, Hongjiang was a sound sleeper, and the mishap they'd feared never occurred. After letting in their comrades waiting outside on the ground floor, all four of them climbed the stairs without stepping on them, slowly crawling up along the wall.

The second-floor hallway was pitch-black and so quiet that you could have heard a needle hit the floor. The four split up to check the rooms. Everything matched the intelligence they'd received: Hongjiang was asleep with his head covered in the room at the end of the hall, on the side facing the street.

They opened the window and let numbers two and three in. Number four gave a thumbs-up to indicate that he'd already used a blowpipe to send Spirit-Burning Smoke inside.

It was a colorless, odorless agent with no toxicity whatsoever. Its only feature was that it ignited easily when struck by spiritual pressure. The assassins had prepared for the worst: taking Hongjiang down with them!

As for why they didn't use poison gas, Soul Society simply had no substance that could force a Soul Reaper with a spiritual power level of six to surrender—or even kill him—from outside the house!

The paper door slid open slowly. The next moment, a gust of cold air rushed into the sealed room. Moonlight filtered through the paper windows, stretching six shadows long across the floor.

Five short swords, their blades glowing white, shot toward different parts of Hongjiang's body: his left arm, right arm, waist, neck, and heart. Another sword swept horizontally over his head. With number one outside the window, they had sealed off every possible escape route!

What a drunk cat! But now this cat's about to become a dead one! The six black-clad men in the room all had the same thought as they watched the short swords pierce the quilt. Behind their veils, their lips curled into mocking smiles.

Blue rubber scraps were mixed in with the white cotton batting. A sharp pop rang through the air, like a New Year's firecracker going off early to celebrate the success of their mission.

But would any of them really have made such a rookie mistake? Of course not!

"We've been had! Move!" Number three made a split-second decision. Seeing that the operation had failed, he immediately led the others out through the window. Number one, who had been waiting outside, had already disappeared after hearing the strange noise inside.

Fuzi wasn't an idiot, either. Hearing the commotion, he followed right behind the black-clad men into Hongjiang's room.

The first thing he saw was the paper window, reduced to nothing but its wooden frame. The thought that something had happened to Hongjiang immediately crossed his mind. The bed was a complete mess, but there wasn't a drop of blood. Maybe the kid wasn't such a short-lived bastard after all!

The question now was: where had Hongjiang gone?

Fuzi wasn't the only one who wanted to know. The black-clad men, who had already fled two blocks away, wanted to know even more. Number six and number seven had no way to answer number one's interrogation. They were certain Hongjiang hadn't left Fuzi's house, and they'd never expected things to turn out this way.

If only they'd stayed a little longer, Fuzi might have kindly told them the answer. In the moonlight, he spotted a piece of paper on the wall. The words on it were written by Hongjiang himself.

"I've thought it over, and I'm still pissed! You think one scolding is enough to repay me for saving your life? You've seriously undervalued me! Those guys have to pay! Sorry for leaving without saying goodbye. The look on my face in the quilt is the picture of regret. —Hongjiang Diezuka"

Reading the cheeky note, Fuzi didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So Hongjiang had dodged a bullet just to extort them. He really couldn't tell whether the kid was petty or just lucky.

"That kid really is blessed by the Soul King. A bad thing turned into a good one~"

The black-clad men off in the distance weren't in nearly as good a mood as Fuzi. The failure of the mission and losing track of their target were both unacceptable—to them and to the master of Seireitei.

"Number seven, send word back first. We'll wait for the master's decision," number one said quietly, his voice trembling a little. It was one thing if Hongjiang didn't know they existed. If he did, not one of them would survive!

Hongjiang, who had already set off for the Plain of Slaughter to demand compensation, naturally had no idea the assassins existed. But was the truth really as that note claimed?

"Doesn't it get tiring talking through those veils? Take them off! You're all safe now, so hurry up and take them off~"

In a house two blocks away, a man wearing a Shihakusho stood on the roof. Muttering to himself, he watched every move the black-clad men made through the white Reiryoku Glasses before his eyes. Who else could it be but Hongjiang, who'd left a note saying he was going away?

"What a bunch of old foxes. I can't understand a word they're saying!"

If the black-clad men could have heard him, they probably would have retorted, Who's the old fox here? How did you even find us?!

Numbers six and seven, who'd been in charge of keeping watch, wanted to know the answer most of all. They wanted to clear their names!

Truth be told, the blame really did fall on those two. They thought they could pass as ordinary bystanders, changing outfits and walking past a few times. Did they really think no one would notice? How naive! Who changes clothes and walks back and forth ten or twenty times in a day for no reason? Even salespeople making their rounds don't do that!

Hongjiang had sensed that something was off, so he'd stayed alert. After confirming the watchers' positions once night fell, he'd slipped away and pulled off a neat counter-surveillance trick.

Actually, the black-clad men's methods would have worked on most people. But was Hongjiang most people?

Assassins? What a joke! Old Man Yama was the ancestor of assassins in Soul Society! As his disciple, Hongjiang was the ancestor of this bunch!

He'd watched them for over an hour, and the black-clad men still hadn't shown themselves. Hongjiang didn't feel like waiting anymore. He couldn't capture them for now, and he had other things to do. It was time to leave.

Just then, the black-clad men, who'd been lingering for a long while, finally made their move. The man who signaled with his fingers—the one in charge of communications—seemed to have received an order. After saying something to their leader, all seven sprinted north!

"Well, what do you know? Looks like we're headed to the same place. Now I have to take the long way around and get ahead of you. What a pain!"

Hongjiang's expression darkened at once. He wiped away the Reiryoku Glasses before him with his right hand, then glanced at the dim mark on his left. He activated Flash Step repeatedly, heading north as well. It looked like he'd be spending the rest of the night on the road.