The Lost Tomb : The Southern Archives Mysteries

Chapter 12: Killers In Poverty

Zhang Haiyan had seen many particularly intense scenes.

Anyone who had combat training knew that if you had learned the basics, you would look at ordinary people differently.

Even if your opponents were much taller than you, the difference in behaviors would make them seem like three-year-olds in front of people who knew how to fight. This sense of difference would bring you considerable confidence.

For the first time in a long time, Zhang Haiyan's confidence disappeared in the face of these people. Although they seemed relaxed, their gestures didn't reveal any flaws like ordinary people's would.

Zhang Haiyan knew he wouldn't stand a chance if he got within three feet of someone like this and they raised their hand. And the room was now full of these kinds of people, which was why he didn't attack.

As soon as he hesitated, Zhang Haijiao, who had followed behind him, was pulled away by a young man who took her out and closed the door behind them.

Zhang Ruipu sat down by Zhang Haixia's bed and motioned to his men to give Zhang Haiyan a rattan chair. He then looked at the simple room. "Killers in poverty, huh?"　　

"Mr. Zhang, if you want to kill or fight, just do it. Why bother mocking us?" Zhang Haixia said.

"I just think that your spirits are commendable. You're already living in poverty, but still choose to be killers." Zhang Ruipu paused briefly, and the young man next to him took out a large paper bag and placed it next to Zhang Haixia's pillow. "To make a long story short. I already checked your backgrounds when you tried to kill me the first time. But with your abilities, I didn't think the two of you would be able to kill me in this lifetime, so I didn't bother killing you. If I did, the Southern Archives might actually send some reliable ones to kill me, and then I wouldn't find any peace in Penang. In the end, you've lived up to my expectations. You're even more incompetent than I predicted."

"Actually, our main job in the Southern Archives is investigating cases. The killings are just incidental." Zhang Haiyan explained. "We're not professional in that regard."

"What do you know about this plague?" Zhang Ruipu sat on the bed cross-legged. "Don't waste my time, Zhang Haiyan. When you came to Penang, you acted like it was nothing to walk among the dead. As far as I know, only people who have had wudou disease and survived it were able to do such a thing. And wudou disease had disappeared for hundreds of years. How did you get infected with it?" With that said, his subordinates turned Zhang Haixia over and revealed his back.

His back had a huge wound that looked like a butterfly. It was a pattern that had been formed by countless burns and blast marks. Zhang Ruipu accurately touched his spine in the middle of his scapula. The vertebrae below had almost been completely shattered by the explosion.

"I know the Southern Archives doesn't allow you to reveal any information, but your friend became disabled because of you. You've been taking care of him until now, but if there's an accident—say for example, if I help you kill him—will your life be easier?" Zhang Ruipu looked at Zhang Haiyan's expression as he spoke.

Zhang Haiyan slowly fiddled with the blades on his tongue, trying not to reveal any expression. Or so he thought.

Zhang Ruipu looked at him for a moment and then laughed. "How touching!" He said to Zhang Haixia. "Your friend does care about you. Then I can force a confession out of him." With that said, he touched Haixia's spine. "Make it short. You'll answer my questions, or I'll start to crush his spine all the way up. If you answer even a minute late, I'll crush an extra piece. Right now he can feel his hands, but seven minutes later... he won't be able to move except for his head—"