Chapter 25

"Yeah, that's the one. You have no idea—the city police department sent out every officer they had, and there were even military vehicles moving in and out of the area." Russell perked up the moment the topic came up.

"I thought they said it was a robbery-homicide?" Lin Sheng asked casually.

"Who knows? That's just a story for the fools," Russell scoffed. "Since when does a robbery-homicide require that many people and cause such a massive commotion for so long?"

"True," Lin Sheng nodded.

"Forget it, forget it. Let's focus on sword practice; that has nothing to do with us. Come on, my turn." Russell shouted loudly.

Lin Sheng nodded as well and began to parry Russell's attacks.

This guy was purely all flash; he started off with all sorts of showy moves, prioritizing whatever looked cool and stylish.

Lin Sheng had already corrected his basic form five or six times. Yet, even as he adjusted Russell's movements, the words of the girl selling water from her cart kept echoing in his mind.

'I passed by there with my cart once before, and the ground—tsk, tsk—it was covered in blood! It felt like pure torture!'

And then there was what Russell had just said.

'My dad told me not to go out and mess around lately, and to stay away from the wilderness.'

It wasn't just him; Xiayin's family had said the same thing. Clearly, they were all worried that this so-called robbery-homicide might threaten the personal safety of Russell and Xiayin.

"Oh, right," Russell said after a while, suddenly speaking up again. "Teacher Lin, you're from the practical combat school, right?"

"Practical combat school? I don't follow." Lin Sheng looked puzzled.

"In our Naxi Swordsmanship circle, there are generally two camps: one is for show, and the other is for combat. That Chen Huan is from the combat camp," Russell explained.

"How about you teach me a few moves that are both cool and practical, Teacher Lin?" He grinned cheekily.

"I don't have any," Lin Sheng shook his head.

He had inherited a small portion of sword-fighting memories from Ravel and that mercenary.

As for those two, one was a battlefield veteran and the other a freelance mercenary; naturally, their sword styles were focused entirely on utility.

"Well, that's no fun then," Russell complained, flicking his sword.

"Are you really sure, Teacher Lin?" Xiayin, standing to the side, also chimed in with a hint of reluctance.

Lin Sheng thought for a moment.

"Such sword techniques might exist, but I don't know them."

"What are you two thinking? Be content that we have an expert teaching us, instead of being so picky," Madilan said, looking bewildered.

"If you can't use swordplay to look cool, what's the point of learning it!?" Russell spread his hands, looking pained.

"I'm only learning it because it looks good. If it's not flashy, it's boring," Xiayin agreed with a nod.

Lin Sheng looked at the two of them, speechless, then glanced at Madilan, who seemed slightly swayed. He felt a sudden sense of exhaustion.

They were rich kids, through and through—always chasing the next whim. They had barely started, and already they were losing interest.

He finally understood why there wasn't a single coach here. The root cause was likely that no coach could actually teach these three.

However, he didn't want to lose such a high-paying job so soon after landing it.

Lin Sheng pondered for a moment before saying hesitantly, "If you learn it, perhaps it could be used for self-defense?"

"Self-defense?"

The three of them turned their gazes toward him, instantly captivated by the statement.

"Just carrying a sword this big is a hassle. If you run into trouble, someone will just shoot you. Do you really think they'll wait for you to draw your blade and get into close quarters?" Xiayin shook her head.

Her family was in the arms business; she was far too familiar with that reality.

"It's not like everyone has a gun, right? There are always times when they don't," Lin Sheng countered.

"As for being too slow to draw and close the distance, want to test it?" he said calmly.

"You really want to try?" Russell perked up. "I've studied professional knife-defense tactics. Within two meters, I'm at a special-forces level! How about we spar?"

Lin Sheng knew that if he didn't demonstrate his value, these rich kids would likely find an excuse to fire him in a few days. He didn't want to lose this high-paying job just yet.

"Fine."

He also wanted to test his true combat level. Previously, he had only been trading blows with the Rotten Swordsman in his dreams; perhaps now, in reality, he could accurately gauge his own skill.

Once the two agreed, Xiayin and Madilan immediately grew interested.

Lin Sheng continued using his sword, but donned a stab-proof vest and helmet.

Russell switched to a short dagger, keeping his previous sparring protective gear on.

The two stood opposite each other in the center of the practice room.

"Teacher Lin, a word of warning: Russell isn't just bragging. His family specifically hired retired special forces officers to train him," Xiayin warned him seriously once more.

"Thanks, I'll be fine," Lin Sheng nodded, pulling down his mask to signal that they could begin.

Russell dropped his playful demeanor, drew his dagger, and held it in a reverse grip hidden in his sleeve.

They stood two meters apart—a distance where Lin Sheng wouldn't even have time to draw his sword; a single lunge would allow Russell to close the gap and strike instantly.

The other two in the practice room couldn't help but hold their breath.

"The outcome of Naxi Swordsmanship is often decided in a single instant. Unless the gap in strength is extremely narrow, it generally doesn't drag on for long," Xiayin whispered.

"Now, let's see how Teacher Lin responds." Clang!!

In an instant, a crisp, ear-piercing sound rang out.

Before Lin Sheng, Russell was sent flying heavily to the side, crashing onto the ground. The dagger in his hand rolled away, slipping from his grasp.

Lin Sheng remained expressionless, quietly looking down at Russell. The sword in his hand hung casually at his side.

"Wh-what just happened!?" Madilan looked completely bewildered.

"I don't know." Xiayin hadn't seen what happened either.

Before they could react, Russell, his face flushed red, picked up his dagger and rolled to his feet. With agile movements, he lunged from the side, stabbing toward Lin Sheng's waist.

Clang!!

A flash of silver.

Russell was sent tumbling away once more, landing flat on his back.

Before the other two could even make a sound, he let out a low growl like a wild beast and charged at Lin Sheng again.

Clang!!

Another flash of silver.

Thud.

Russell was sent flying again without a shred of suspense, his dagger carving a long gash into the floor mat.

He struggled to push himself up, but the repeated bursts of effort followed by the falls left him unable to continue.

Lin Sheng flicked his long sword and walked forward with a calm expression.

Swish.

The tip of the sword stopped instantly at Russell's throat.

The gleaming blade, smooth as a mirror, reflected Russell's face—filled with astonishment, confusion, and humiliated rage.

"Do you want to learn?"

Russell's throat bobbed.

Since opening this club, he had hired over a dozen instructors and teachers, all of them masters of Naxi Swordsmanship.

Yet, none of them had ever given him such a real, intense sense of threat as the man before him.

This feeling...

"It's... absolutely f*cking incredible!!!" He let out a sudden, explosive roar, laughing uncontrollably.

Beside him, Madilan and Xiayin also shrieked and burst into laughter at the same time.

Lin Sheng withdrew his sword and glanced at the three inexplicably excited people. He suddenly felt a sense of helplessness in his heart.