Chapter 61: I Am Very Good at Swimming and Running Away

Although each of these pirates has taken several lives, they are fundamentally untrained, with little to no formal instruction. Most are amateurs, relying on brute force and ferocity to kill, learning a trick or two over time; otherwise, they wouldn’t be lurking in such a remote corner of the East Sea. Usually, they depend on collective assaults, ruthlessness, savagery, and the leadership of their captain to attack and slaughter a few civilians.

But when faced with Tang Shen and Kuina, both true martial practitioners, they collapsed instantly. Moreover, Tang Shen and Kuina’s fundamental swordsmanship had already reached perfection, far beyond anything the pirates could compare to.

In the blink of an eye, cries and screams erupted—half of the pirates fell almost immediately. These men, who lived by licking blood off blades, now felt chills crawling down their backs, their hearts seized by terror.

What sort of island had they set foot upon? It was merely a remote island, and yet, as soon as they landed, they encountered two monsters at the shore. The larger and smaller figures were nothing less than two beasts wearing human skin.

Worse still, not a single pirate had managed to touch the hem of their clothes, let alone strike them. The two moved among them like fish in water, slaughtering at will.

Disorganized, exposed, they could not even stir a ripple. Any wave that arose was cleaved by a single stroke.

Seeing his men cut down in droves, the captain of the Butcher Pirates, charging forward, suddenly halted, his face twisted in terror—then, without a second thought, he turned and fled.

He wasn’t stupid. Despite his hulking frame, resembling a gorilla, his mind was sharper than most. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have orchestrated several massacres without ever being caught by the navy—his cunning was his greatest asset.

To put it another way, he was cowardly, quick to run. The endless sea was his refuge; once he escaped to its vastness, the navy couldn’t catch him so easily. (The East Sea is the weakest, and so is its navy.)

Of course, he’d killed ‘masters’ before, but always by mobbing them with his crew, wearing them down. Yet those so-called masters were nothing compared to Tang Shen and Kuina.

With half his men dead or wounded in mere moments, fear overwhelmed him. As for any original anger—compared to survival, it was meaningless.

Better to flee. If his crew died, he could always recruit more; such lowlifes were easily replaced.

Yet, coming was easy, leaving was not. Would Tang Shen let this walking experience slip away? Especially a captain.

As soon as the captain turned to escape, Tang Shen locked onto him like a radar.

Experience points delivered to his mouth? Escape? Not a chance—not even a window, let alone a door.

“Kuina, leave me two. Don’t kill them all. I’ll be right back,” he called, iron sword in hand, sprinting after the runaway pirate captain with the speed of a tiger descending the mountain.

The sunny smile vanished from his face. In his bright eyes, a fierce red glint flared—the cage had been opened, and the beast within fixed its gaze on its prey.

“Gorilla, why are you running? You’re so ugly—if you’d just stayed home, fine, but you came out to frighten people. It’s one thing to scare others, but what about me? Shouldn’t you pay medical fees, compensation for emotional distress, and damages for polluting my eyes? Come, let’s sit down for tea and talk it over,” Tang Shen shouted calmly as he closed in.

The captain’s grotesque face twitched at the words behind him. He was furious, but dared not pause.

Calling him ugly was one thing, but demanding compensation—medical fees and emotional damages—was extortion.

He’d never met anyone so shameless.

But hearing ‘sit down for tea,’ he glanced back as he fled, only to be struck by mortal terror.

Tang Shen was only ten meters away, his face twisted in a sinister smile, eyes aglow with a terrifying red light, his body radiating deadly intent. This was no invitation to negotiate—it was a death sentence.

Tea? Tea my foot! He looked nothing like someone out for tea.

He nearly wet himself from fright. A liar, a massive fraud—he would surely be punished for such deceit.

That glance cost him several meters as Tang Shen gained ground.

Just then, they reached the shore. Without hesitation, the captain leapt into the sea—staying meant certain death.

He knew his own limits. Before someone who could dispatch several of his men in an instant, he wasn’t even a mouthful.

Remain, and he’d die for sure. Jumping into the sea might offer a slim chance; perhaps his pursuer couldn’t swim.

Splash!

But barely had he swum a few strokes when he heard another splash behind him.

Imagination was sweet, reality bitter—how could Tang Shen not swim?

Still, hope lingered. Usually, masters excelled on land but lost their strength in water. With his swimming skills, he should escape. He couldn’t return to his ship, so he headed out into the sea, desperate to survive.

He dove beneath the waves, using the unclear surface as cover, swimming away from the ship.

He prided himself on his swimming—he’d been the village breath-holding champion as a child.

He held his breath, swam far, and spotted a pillar of rock ahead. Surfacing, he glanced back—his pursuer was nowhere to be seen. A triumphant smile spread across his face. With a cold laugh, he muttered, “Too young. I’m a pirate with a twenty-thousand bounty.”

His smile hadn’t faded when he turned and found, directly above him, a seemingly harmless face smiling down.

The contempt and disdain in Tang Shen’s gaze was unmistakable.

He stood firmly atop the rock, waves crashing behind him.

In that instant, the world fell silent. The captain’s smile froze, a chill swept through his body.

His eyes widened in terror.

Impossible.

How could he be faster?

Of course, after so many years accustomed to the sea, countless attempts, he could wait on the rocks even with hundreds of pounds of weight—how could this little trash compare?

“Pretty quick swimmer, aren’t you?” Tang Shen remarked softly.

The words stung, filling the captain with shame.

But Tang Shen didn’t spare him time to feel it—he drew his sword.

The blade flashed. The captain never even saw it, only the afterimage as Tang Shen swung. He tried to flee, but his agility in water was nothing compared to land—he was far too slow.