Here Lies The Wicked - Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Shattered

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

Death’s Head Blade?! 

Fang Zheng was shocked. 

Slightly agitated, he hurriedly picked up the blade 1and pulled it out of the scabbard. 

Pulling it out of the scabbard, Fang Zheng realized it was only an ordinary, unremarkable short sword. However, to call it a short sword would be inaccurate, but it also certainly was not a machete. 

The length of the blade was roughly 34 centimeters long, but it did not have the hooked tip of a machete. 

One could call it a short sword but compared to the specifications of short swords widely available on Moubao, it needed to be wider both in the diameter of the blade and its spine. 

It was like… an unconventional design of machete used for unscrupulous purposes? 

However, one could clearly see that the owner of the sword truly valued it. When it was drawn from its scabbard, a strong scent of oil hit the nostrils. It was not piercing, but instead had a pleasant, gentle aroma to it. 

The blade was very well maintained. 

Butcher Zhang answered Fang Zheng’s unspoken question. “It really is a Death’s Head Blade. At Caishikou 1, it took seventy-three heads—all of extremely evil men.” 

“However, it suffered much damage over a very long time. In the end, all that’s left was half the blade. It’s nothing more than a shattered old antique. I’ll give you a discount. You can have it for 60,000 Yuan.” 

Fang Zheng was speechless. 

“Boss, you must know Sun Yushu! If not how could you have possibly known that I just so happen to have a bank card with 60,000 Yuan inside!” 

Butcher Zhang seemed confused. 

“Boss, when you took this Death’s Head Blade out without hesitation and said it suited me, and seeing we both know Old Wang from next door, I thought you were going to give me this damaged old Death’s Head Blade,” Fang Zheng said, suppressing his conscience and crossing his fingers. 

“What happened to friendship before money? We have a connection between us through Old Wang next door. You can’t possibly be planning to skin someone you know, right?” 

Fang Zheng intended to try and get a discount to see if he could get 10,000 or even 1000 off the price. The money saved would already be the monthly wage of an average white-collar worker. 

However, Butcher Zhang simply lifted the cleaver in his hand which was still bloody and with bits of gristle stuck to it from butchering the pig, and replied, “I can sell you this cleaver for 100.” 

Fang Zheng was definitely not going to return the Death’s Head Blade. 

This blade was like a baby. It had been nearly a century since the era of the destruction of the Four Olds in the Chinese Economic Reform and the subsequent Opening of China1. The Death’s Head Blade had long since become a rare treasure among treasures. In the entire country, it was exceedingly rare. So many were ruined or lost forever that there must be only a handful left in the country. 

He was fortunate to find a single Death’s Head Blade. No matter what Fang Zheng said he would never let go of it, as it was like letting go of cooked meat in one’s mouth. 

Fang Zheng held the blade as if he was cradling a beautiful lady, and could not put it down as he kept inspecting it. 

He had no doubts as to the authenticity of this Death’s Head Blade. 

At first glance as he pulled the blade out of its scabbard, his constitution—which had been trained through asceticism that could immediately feel even the most minute changes in temperature around him—immediately felt the temperature start to drop. 

Fang Zheng finally understood the origins of the saying that blades had a cold air about them. 

Hm! 

The Qi of the blade was especially large. 

At least 40 meters. 

This Butcher Zhang really did keep secrets of his own. 

A person could be curious, but they should never think to pry into other people’s secrets. 

Everyone had one or two secrets with them, and one should never think to pry. It could turn brothers against brothers, and fathers against sons. Just like the Human Skin Scripture that Fang Zheng had—it was a secret that he could only keep to himself. 

The value of a person was at their discretion. 

Since ancient times, disaster comes from the mouth. 

After buying the Death’s Head Blade, Fang Zheng chatted a little bit with Butcher Zhang about the daily news. He realized that the entire conversation was full of awkward small talk as Butcher Zhang kept his face straight and was taciturn throughout the entire conversation. 

He was very indifferent. 

Except when he was pitching the sale of the Death’s Head Blade, he barely spoke. 

Fang Zheng finally understood why Butcher Zhang could be single for 30 years and be surrounded by lovebirds. 

There was always a reason. 

This man was slightly cold and anyone who got close to him would not be able to bear it. 

Fang Zheng knew that he would not be able to carry a conversation with Butcher Zhang. Furthermore, he had an itch to scratch in his mind and was extremely curious as to whether the weapon could be strengthened by the scriptures bound by human leather. He wondered what form the Death’s Head Blade would take after being strengthened. He sheathed the Devil’s Head Blade and quickly rushed back home. 

In any case, Butcher Zhang’s stall would always be there. 

It would not disappear. 

When he had another chance, he would try to get closer to Butcher Zhang. Butcher Zhang was not what he appeared to be if he could just pull out a Death’s Head Blade. 

He hailed a taxi. 

The taxi brought him straight to his neighborhood. 

When he arrived home, Fang Zheng hurriedly pulled out the Human Skin Scripture. Lo and behold, four symbols were already glowing. 

Fang Zheng was giddy, and he giggled in joy like a fool. 

This was the first time in his life that he had collected four symbols, and suddenly he felt what it was like to be as extravagant as a rich man. 

It was just like in the past when he only had ten Yuan on him and he entered a cyber cafe to pull an all-nighter, and he could not even afford a bottle of water. When he was thirsty he would just have to drink the free tap water from the toilets. 

He did not only want to surf the web, but he would order a bowl of Kang Shifu1, and a bottle of Iced Red Tea2. He would even order two tea leaf eggs3 and a hot dog on top of the instant noodles. 

What was it like to be rich?

This was what it meant to be rich—to spend extravagantly. 

To be able to order a bowl of Kang Shifu and a bottle of Iced Red Tea on top of surfing the web. 

This was the peak of living. 

Fang Zheng felt exactly this way, as though he had expanded, emmmm1. 

He looked at the Human Skin Scripture, and then at the Death’s Head Blade with the cold air around it. Fang Zheng rubbed his hands in excitement but thought for a moment before rushing into the bathroom and spending an entire 30 minutes cleaning himself thoroughly. Finally, he picked up the scriptures in one hand, and the Death’s Head Blade in the other with supreme devoutness. 

Boom! 

A terrifying aura of Yin Energy pulsed eerily and explosively from the Death’s Head Blade. 

At that moment, ghostly energies began to coalesce around the blade, and it burst into a gray flame. The ghostly fire raged as though it was awakening something within the Death’s Head Blade. 

Clang! 

The Death’s Head Blade clattered on the floor and continued to burn. Suddenly, a cold draft blew through the room, and the wails of ghosts and the howls of wolves could be heard. 

The clamor grew!

A black whirlwind shot out of the Death’s Head Blade and materialized into a headless man who was bound entirely in chains. The temperature in the room immediately plummeted. The cold wind blew, and the ghostly energies coalesced endlessly. The headless man looked terrible and sinister—as though he wanted to tear the nearby Fang Zheng to pieces and escape. He was like a demon and was extremely vicious. 

The thick chains around the man’s body extended into the blade, binding him tightly. 

After that, another headless man materialized. He looked like he lifted his head to scream, but without his head it was only a soundless roar. Similarly, he also wanted to rip Fang Zheng to pieces but he was bound by the chains. 

Then there was a third, a fourth, and a fifth… 

However, they swiftly burst into atoms and turned into fuel for the burning, ghostly fire, letting it rage higher and higher. 

This was not evil energies, it was just that the Death’s Head Blade had taken too many lives.

Even though it was a shattered, incomplete sword, and was so heavily damaged, it could still materialize nine spirits of vengeance. 

According to Butcher Zhang’s words, the blade had claimed 73 heads. 

This was the cause of the extreme effect of strengthening. 

The ghostly flame burned for nine more seconds without diminishing or growing. After exactly nine seconds, the ghostly flames began to die down, receding like a tide until finally the blade was revealed.