The Heir to the Seven Killers in the City

Chapter 1: A Body Dumped on a Rainy Night

A dilapidated black sedan—long past its prime—crept silently through the rainy night. The sound of the heavy rain drowned out the car’s engine, and every now and then, a flash of lightning split the pitch-black sky, illuminating the driver’s pale face and the shivering figure in the passenger seat. The black sedan pulled up to the riverbank. The driver and the passenger in the front seat didn’t get out right away. They each lit a cigarette and took a few deep drags. The driver clenched his teeth and said, “Let’s get to work!” “Brother Wolf, this is a human life we’re talking about…” The frail middle-aged man in the passenger seat held his cigarette, trembling uncontrollably. He’d believed joining the organization would bring him big money, but he’d never imagined they’d make him kill someone and dispose of the body. He’d thought the worst it would come to was recruiting a few new members—this had already crossed his personal limit. The man nicknamed Wolf Brother grabbed the frail middle-aged man by the collar and shouted into his ear, “Huang Laosan, listen to me! The guy’s already dead—don’t you get why we’re the ones doing this? You fucking idiot, do you even have a brain?” Huang Laosan lowered his head, and murky tears streamed from the corners of his eyes—tears of fear and regret. He was an adult; of course he knew why the organization’s leader had made him do this. It was to get everyone’s hands dirty, so that no one would dare to report it… This was a chaotic city where justice was virtually nonexistent. But as two middle-aged men in their thirties pulled a plastic burlap sack from the trunk of their car and tossed it into the raging river, the lightning and downpour seemed to intensify—as if even Heaven couldn’t bear to witness such an act and was venting its wrath in its own way. The white burlap sack drifted with the current, but before it had gone far, a wave slammed it to the riverbed. The two men in the black sedan didn’t even dare to glance back as they drove away. After a night of torrential rain, all traces would vanish, as if nothing had ever happened. But inside that white burlap sack in the dark river, something inexplicable was unfolding… The white burlap sack swelled slowly, as if it were an inflated balloon, and then, just like a real balloon, floated up from the riverbed to the surface—all the while continuing to expand. Every object has its limits—let alone a burlap sack of relatively light weight. With a thunderous boom,the white burlap sack exploded into fragments, and a human figure shot skyward. The lightning in the sky suddenly intensified. The figure was clearly a teenager of seventeen or eighteen, but at that moment, he seemed to be suspended in midair as if supported by some unseen force. His eyes, gazing up at the sky, were startlingly blood-red! “Heaven creates all things to sustain humanity, yet humanity has nothing with which to repay Heaven… Kill!” The boy let out a long, piercing howl to the heavens. Amid the swirling lightning, he resembled a demon god descending to earth, his aura truly awe-inspiring. However, this aura—which rivaled the five-mao special effects of a Chinese blockbuster—didn’t last long. Three seconds later, the boy clumsily plummeted from midair into the river, and his blood-red eyes returned to their normal black-and-white hues. Using both arms and legs, he employed the legendary “dog paddle” technique—known as the “White Stripe of the Waves”—and in the blink of an eye, he swam to the riverbank. Leaping straight out of the water onto the bank, the boy threw his head back, wailed three times, and then burst into laughter three times: “Jiang Rongrong, Jiang Rongrong! You’re so kind, you’re truly so kind!” The boy’s name was Qin Yu. He was a native of Jiangcheng, but an orphan who had lost both parents and grown up in an orphanage. After completing nine years of compulsory education at the orphanage by the age of sixteen, Qin Yu began to fend for himself. As one can imagine, it was incredibly difficult for a parentless orphan to make a living in this hedonistic, materialistic society. Jiangcheng was a chaotic place. During the two years Qin Yu had been struggling to make his way in the world, he had been recruited by various gangs and criminal organizations. However, he always remembered the advice the old director of the orphanage had given him on his deathbed: to earn his own living and stay on the straight and narrow. As a result, he led a life that, though frugal, was relatively peaceful. Then, while working at a bar, he met Jiang Rongrong. Jiang Rongrong was beautiful, sexy, and exuded a strong feminine charm. Qin Yu, just discovering love for the first time, fell head over heels for her the moment he laid eyes on her. Jiang Rongrong was also very interested in Qin Yu; after all, the eighteen-year-old was tall and handsome, looking far more appealing than most Korean-style heartthrobs. Love came on too fast. Qin Yu was practically desperate to give Jiang Rongrong his very heart, but she remained aloof and distant toward him. Ever since meeting her, Qin Yu hadn’t been able to save a single penny; he’d even gone through several periods of extreme poverty just to satisfy her desire for cosmetics, clothes, and handbags. Qin Yu could put up with all of this. He loved Jiang Rongrong, and the fact that his own earnings couldn’t satisfy his girlfriend made him feel like a failure—but it never occurred to him that this relationship had never been a two-way street from the very beginning. To make money, Qin Yu joined a training program that Jiang Rongrong had introduced him to. As soon as he stepped into this so-called training program, Qin Yu knew he’d gotten himself into a mess. An instructor speaking in an overly excited tone, a group of emotionally charged “students,” a pyramid-style sales structure, recruiting members at every level… Isn’t this a damn pyramid scheme? Qin Yu rushed to find Jiang Rongrong, but couldn’t find her in the female students’ dormitory where she was staying. After asking one of the “students” in her dorm, he learned that Jiang Rongrong had been called away by the instructor for a private session. The poorly soundproofed wooden door couldn’t block the blood-pumping sounds coming from inside the room. Standing at the doorway, Qin Yu clenched his fists. He and Jiang Rongrong had been dating for nearly half a year without ever crossing the line—because, in his eyes, she was so, so good… Yet now, his goddess was in someone else’s bed, making sounds so shameful he couldn’t even bear to listen! He kicked the door open. The man and woman, entangled on the bed, were startled for only a moment. Before Qin Yu could even confront Jiang Rongrong, he was brutally beaten. His last memory before losing consciousness was that beautiful face, now twisted with utter contempt. “A man’s way is one of ferocity. Compassion and violence cannot coexist…” An icy, piercing voice echoed in Qin Yu’s mind: “A man’s place is on the battlefield, with the courage of a bear and the eyes of a wolf. If born a man, he must kill; he must not let a man’s body harbor a woman’s heart…” As he lay unconscious, that icy voice recited these lines over and over in his mind—words brimming with savagery yet exuding an indomitable, soaring grandeur. Qin Yu had no idea what they meant, but that icy voice left something behind in his mind. “You have inherited my Seven Slayings Sutra, boy. Having survived such a great calamity, you should know that there is no one in this world who cannot be killed… Killing one is a sin; slaughtering ten thousand makes you a hero. Killing one person grants you one point of killing intent. The Seven Slayings Sutra is founded on killing intent—the more people you kill, the stronger you become. Hahahahahaha…”