What does it mean to be elite?

It doesn’t mean being fearless.

Nor does it mean being valiant in battle.

The key is to follow orders decisively and make quick decisions!

"Retreat!"

Upon realizing the police system had arrived, the mercenaries swiftly disengaged from battle, assisted the wounded, turned, and ran without hesitation, scattering like birds and beasts!

Reasonable and rational, yet tinged with a bizarre absurdity.

They definitely wouldn’t head for the main gate.

No matter how well-equipped or long-prepared, facing the local law enforcement head-on is something only terrorists would do.

Although Jiang Chen had already checked that there was only one door to the house, it didn’t matter, as all these mercenaries were professionals in wall-climbing.

Within just a few seconds, the bustling courtyard became empty and desolate in the blink of an eye.

Excluding the bodies strewn all over the ground.

The enemies retreated decisively, and Lan Peizhi didn’t obstruct them, her gaze swept past the Japanese ninja staring at her unwaveringly, unsurprisingly, landing on Jiang Chen, who was bending over, catching his breath.

The person who came out of danger without harm said nothing, only mustering the strength to raise his right hand silently to give a thumbs up, expressing his gratitude, though his complexion didn’t entirely show the relief of surviving the ordeal.

Once again witnessing the other’s invincible strength, the feeling may only be something he alone could understand.

Indeed.

A dignified man of seven feet.

Who had to rely on a woman to save his life.

How could he possibly be happy?

While others treated her as Guanyin.

He had never regarded her as a deity.

At the entrance, police lights flickered.

Only the sound of the siren had stopped.

Soon after, a group of plainclothes officers with stern faces rushed in.

That’s right.

Plainclothes.

Not wearing uniforms.

When they saw the terrifying scene in the courtyard, their expressions uniformly darkened further.

"Miss Lan."

The middle-aged man leading them first greeted Lan Peizhi.

Jiang Chen’s call to the police hadn’t gone through.

So surely, they were called by Lan Peizhi.

Indeed.

It’s no longer the era of realizing manhood through sheer bravery, and Lan Peizhi wasn’t a thug; if she could save some energy, why wouldn’t she?

Didn’t see that she hadn’t spent much effort to stop the enemy earlier.

After greeting, the middle-aged leader silently signaled his subordinates, and over a dozen plainclothes officers immediately moved in, entering the courtyard to confirm the casualties and whether there were any survivors.

"Mr. Jiang, Miss Fujiwara, are you two alright?"

The leader casually approached, appearing not only familiar with Lan Peizhi but also seemingly quite acquainted with Jiang Chen and others. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Jiang Chen had just stood up when he heard the sound of an ambulance outside again.

"We’re fine, but they need treatment."

Jiang Chen gestured towards the Three Grand Kings.

As the enemy retreated, the adrenaline faded, and feelings of weakness and pain swept over, the three exhausted Grand Kings barely managed to remain upright, using their swords to prop themselves up without falling.

"Understood."

The medics mobilized, swiftly and cautiously placing the Three Grand Kings on stretchers, turning a blind eye to the shocking corpses around them.

Although healthcare professionals certainly have psychological endurance beyond the ordinary person, they still couldn’t remain so composed.

It only indicates one thing.

Tonight’s attendees are not from the traditional medical and law enforcement systems.

"Mr. Jiang, Ah Hai..."

The Golden Lion King, being lifted onto a stretcher, hoarsely looked this way; the other two Kings also lay on the stretchers, revealing under their resolute exterior a hint of forcibly endured grief.

Jiang Chen nodded, "You all rest first."

The Three Grand Kings were carried away.

Jiang Chen didn’t linger with the unknown middle-aged man, nor did he go over to thank Lan Peizhi for saving his life; he discarded the triangular military dagger in his hand, turned, and walked towards the Purple Shirt Dragon King lying silently in a pool of blood.

Fujiwara Reiki did not stop him, allowing him to pass by, lightly sighing.

Reality isn’t a novel or movie.

There are no invincible auras.

Moreover, people like the Four Great Kings, whose existence is to risk lives, are even less likely to be the protagonists.

The crimson blood had already formed a thick pool, further staining the soles of Jiang Chen’s shoes as he reached the Purple Shirt Dragon King’s side; this elegant handsome man did not get up again to respectfully call him Mr. Jiang, but lay quietly on the ground, blood and grime covering his face, fatal wounds innumerable, continuously oozing blood.

And he, until his death.

Grasped that blunted sword firmly.

"He’s already gone."

Footsteps sounded, the middle-aged leader returned beside Jiang Chen, looking at the lifeless body on the ground, very straightforward.

Jiang Chen remained silent.

Soon, the medics came over, laboriously removed the tragic sword, and carried the Purple Shirt Dragon King onto a stretcher.

"My name is Luo Wenzhou, what happened tonight probably needs to be asked of Mr. Jiang."

Only a simple name was introduced.

Position, relevant units all omitted.

No surprise, it must be a special operations division.

Jiang Chen nodded, watching as the Purple Shirt Dragon King’s body was carried away, his expression calm, emotionless.

Luo Wenzhou wasn’t entirely unsympathetic, understanding the other’s current mood, he said, "Mr. Jiang can take a rest for a while."

"Thank you."

Luo Wenzhou left, directing the aftermath and cleanup work.

"Thank you, Miss Lan, for saving my life."

At this time.

Fujiwara Reiki stepped forward to Lan Peizhi, sincere and earnest, yet carrying a subtle hint of admiration.

She managed to maintain the dignity of the Great Japanese Empire so well.

Surviving a narrow escape, she could still remain so composed and tranquil.

"I was here to save him."

"..."

Fujiwara Reiki was speechless.

Are women of Shen Zhou all like this?

Not giving men any face at all.

She didn’t laugh, nodded, and responded, "The same."

Then, she instructed Sakura.

"Go retrieve Miss Lan’s sword."

Sakura complied.

Soon, the wooden sword, like a celestial weapon, returned to its owner. Somehow, its special coating had allowed it to pierce through countless lives without staining with any blood.

"The Fujiwara family will remember Miss Lan’s kindness today and will repay you someday."

Indispensable pleasantries.

She watched the woman with a special identity and almost ethereal presence, without drawing her sword again to sever the worldly threat, turned silently, and just left.

She didn’t even bid someone farewell.

Such freedom.

Finishing the matter, leaving quietly. Concealing achievements and reputation.

Swung her sleeves, not leaving even a cloud behind?

Fujiwara Reiki lost in thought, saw her off, and inwardly revered her.

Not until Lan Peizhi’s figure completely disappeared from view did she softly say, "Sakura, how many rounds could you withstand against her?"

Didn’t even ask if she could be a match.

Miss Fujiwara was always a sober and pragmatic person.

Sakura remained silent, the ripples in her eyes yet to calm, as a death warrior, she did not immediately answer her master’s question.

Is it because she felt too much shame for the family and the Japanese Empire?

Fujiwara Reiki turned her head, gently saying, "It’s okay, just tell the truth."

"Depends on the situation."

Sakura spoke, "If it’s a direct confrontation, I could probably withstand two rounds."

Two rounds?

Even with mental preparation, Fujiwara Reiki involuntarily laughed; if so, she herself might be similar.

"What if it’s not a direct confrontation?"

"If taken by surprise without any defense, I would be killed instantly."

Killed instantly?

Along with the element of surprise?

Why does it sound so comically intense?

Sakura certainly wasn’t belittling the other; not in such a derogatory manner, as a death warrior, even if not solely a cold machine, certainly lacks humor, she was merely truthfully and straightforwardly answering the question.

"Sigh~"

Fujiwara Reiki wasn’t annoyed, she sighed softly, "Reputation well deserved."

Subsequently.

She turned back, looking at someone standing in the courtyard, unaware his lifesaver had left, wondering what he was thinking.

"What do you think such a woman would be like in bed?"

Sakura was dumbfounded.

Fujiwara Reiki’s lips curved into a smile, her recovery ability astonishing; her eyes rippling, her smile once again bringing forth an irresistible allure.

"Don’t idolize her too much. No matter how formidable she is, she’s still human. Who knows, you might have shared the same man with her."