Chapter 26

Lin Sheng still took the bus back from the club.

Although he had money in his pocket now, the habits he had formed were not easy to change. It was just like how he had initially intended to keep a low profile for only two years, but after doing so for so long, it had become a habit.

To put it bluntly, I'm just lazy.

Standing in the cold wind, Lin Sheng looked back at the white bus as it wobbled slowly into the distance. Tightening his collar, he walked slowly along the tactile paving in front of the shops.

There weren't many people on the street; there were no snack stalls in this neighborhood, and the nightlife was quite desolate.

As he hurried back, Lin Sheng recalled his sparring session with Russell.

"In reality, I finished the opponent off almost without even drawing my sword. In the residual instinctive memories of the mercenary, I am simply too proficient at dealing with these kinds of sudden close-quarters attacks."

"By utilizing the metal hilt of the sword, combined with precise judgment, I can instantly deflect an opponent's offensive. This technique should actually be categorized under close-quarters combat."

"It's a pity my physical strength is still a bit weak; otherwise, I wouldn't need to rely on using the opponent's own force against them to win."

The reason he was able to easily throw Russell aside during their practice was not because he used his own strength, but because he borrowed the momentum of Russell's own lunge.

This was also a move from the mercenary's instinctive memories. When facing an opponent with much greater strength than one's own, such techniques were essential.

"Overall, this utilizes the hardness and material of the longsword itself as a lever to borrow the opponent's strength. Theoretically, the greater the opponent's strength, the deeper the damage they receive. The prerequisite is that the sword's material must be hard enough."

Recalling the fight, Lin Sheng gained a deeper understanding of this type of technique.

If Ravel's memory fragments had provided him with the basic thrusting moves, then the mercenary's memory fragments enriched his other combat experiences.

Although they weren't extensive—in Ravel's environment, he might not even have qualified as an apprentice—they were more than enough to deal with a Russell.

That guy claimed to have been trained, but in reality, he was just a fledgling who had never seen blood.

Walking through the spacious entrance of the residential complex, Lin Sheng walked familiarly to the entrance of his building.

Someone had scattered a pile of advertising flyers on the floor of the stairwell, leaving them strewn about in a white mess.

Printed on them was a photo of a beautiful woman he didn't recognize, with a line of text below: "Seeking a child for a large sum of money."

Lin Sheng kicked aside a flyer that had been blown upright by the wind and slowly headed upstairs.

The light in the stairwell was broken again.

Taking the stairs three at a time, he reached the third floor in a few moments.

The security door to his home was wide open, and his father, Lin Zhounian, was moving goods out—all of them snacks packed into burlap sacks.

Several large bags were piled up at the doorway, leaving no room to even stand.

"Give me a hand and help move these downstairs," Lin Zhounian said as soon as he saw Lin Sheng.

"Okay."

With both father and son working together, the pace was much faster, and they moved all ten or so bags downstairs in no time.

Lin Zhounian went to fetch his small tricycle and loaded the goods onto it.

"Alright, you go to sleep. I'm going to deliver these. The customer is in a hurry." Lin Zhounian stuffed a roll of money into Lin Sheng's hand.

"Your homeroom teacher called to say there's a make-up class to cover key exam topics; this is the tuition fee. And here is your pocket money for the next few days. Don't ask your sister for money; it's not easy for her out there on her own."

After saying this, he waved his hand and, without waiting for Lin Sheng to reply, rode off on his tricycle, wobbling into the distance.

Lin Sheng watched his father disappear into the night until he was no longer visible.

He looked down at the roll of money in his hand: one hundred-yuan bill and two twenty-yuan bills. The money was crumpled, still carrying a faint trace of his father's sweat.

That was life. Aside from the small shop, Lin Zhounian occasionally took on large orders for others. It wasn't rare for him to go out delivering goods like this in the evening; he could earn twenty or thirty yuan a trip—it was hard-earned money.

After a moment of silence, Lin Sheng turned and returned to the third floor, pushing the door open to enter his home.

He changed into his slippers, went through his routine of washing up, changed into his pajamas, and drank a glass of water before bed.

Finally, he lay down quietly on his bed.

Lying on his back, he thought about many things for a while.

I really need to improve our quality of life.

After a long time, Lin Sheng sighed and slowly closed his eyes.

Whoosh!

The moment he opened his eyes, Lin Sheng felt a chill rush straight to his brain.

He instinctively rolled to the left to dodge.

Thud!!

A Black Sword slammed heavily into the spot where he had just been standing, gouging a sizable pit into the ground.

The owner of the Black Sword was a bloated Rotten Swordsman.

He was currently pulling his sword out of the ground, turning to charge at Lin Sheng once more.

In the freezing wind, the Rotten Swordsman was a pitch-black mass, nothing more than a dark shadow lunging toward Lin Sheng.

"Again!"

Lin Sheng couldn't see the figure clearly at all; he could only roll away to dodge, then scramble to his feet and bolt.

Outside, there had been at least a sliver of moonlight for illumination, but in here, even that was gone.

Everything around him was pitch black; he couldn't see a thing.

I need to find a light source first!

Lin Sheng sprinted, his footing uneven and frantic. He didn't dare stop, terrified that if he did, some other monster would emerge from the darkness.

He had no desire to die for no reason and be sent back; after all, dying once meant suffering from mental exhaustion for days before he could recover.

He didn't know how far he had run. The sounds behind him had ceased.

Suddenly, Lin Sheng tripped over a stone and stumbled, nearly falling.

The sky finally began to brighten just a little.

The moonlight slowly emerged from behind the dark clouds.

Lin Sheng stopped to catch his breath, carefully scanning his surroundings.

Before him stood a expanse of tall, grayish-white structures; everywhere he looked, there were gray city walls.

The walls encircled the entire town like a piece of rotting, decaying white cheese, riddled with tattered holes.

Lin Sheng walked forward a few steps; he was now only a few meters away from the wall.

"I actually ran all the way here in one breath? Is this Black Feather City?"

He reached out to touch the grayish-white wall within arm's reach.

Unlike how it appeared on the surface, the material of the wall was incredibly hard; some of the sharper edges even gave him the sensation of touching metal.

It's becoming more and more realistic, this dream.

Lin Sheng's heart sank slightly. In truth, at this point, he had begun to doubt whether he was really dreaming at all.

Withdrawing his hand, he slowly tightened his grip on his Black Sword and walked into the city through the main gate.

The gate tunnel, over three meters high, was cold and deathly silent, with gusts of freezing wind constantly surging in from behind.

Lin Sheng couldn't help but shrink his neck, trying his best to prevent heat loss.

Passing through the gate, he found himself in a dilapidated gray district.

On the streets lay the remains of broken-down carriage frames. Tiny, unidentifiable black fragments were blown about by the wind from time to time.

The tattered shops and residential areas groaned with strange creaking sounds in the wind, as if they might collapse at any moment.

Lin Sheng looked up toward the distance.

Everything there was shrouded in a gray haze.

The depths of Black Feather City remained submerged in mist, and he couldn't see a thing.

"Not a single living thing?" Lin Sheng remained on high alert.

He didn't believe that a city this large could be completely devoid of monsters.

Clutching his Black Sword, he searched left and right, and soon found a directional sign to the right of the gate tunnel.

The sign, made of black metal, pointed in five different directions.

The text on three of the directions had been completely blurred and was illegible. The remaining two could only be barely identified.

"Ears Square? Black Feather City Hall?"

Lin Sheng recognized the text for these two directions.