Runes • Rifles • Reincarnation

"Drop your weapons!" the hostage-taker barked, pressing his blade tightly against Sun Li's throat. His two comrades flanked him, their expressions cold and unyielding.

"Okay, okay." Jin Shu crouched slowly, placing his M17 and karambit on the ground with deliberate movements.

"You! Girl in the veil! Bring me his weapons," the hostage-taker ordered, jerking his head toward Biyu, who had rushed up alongside Jin Shu.

She hesitated, her eyes darting to Jin Shu for guidance.

"Do it now!" the man shouted, his voice sharp and impatient.

"Hold on," Jin Shu interjected with a calm, measured tone. "She's scared. Let's all just calm down." He stood, picking up his weapons again.

"Hey! I didn't tell you to move!" the man snarled, tightening his grip on the blade.

"I'll just hand them to her," Jin Shu replied smoothly, taking a step toward Biyu.

The hostage-taker’s sneer twisted into a threat. "No funny business, or the little prince gets his throat slit."

Jin Shu's face remained calm, but the words caught him off guard. The little prince? The slip gave him crucial information: these men knew who Sun Li was. They had come for her specifically. Peaceful resolution had never been an option.

As he approached Biyu, Jin Shu handed her the pistol and karambit, leaning close to whisper in her ear. "Remember how to use this?"

She gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Enough! Quit whispering and bring them here now!" the hostage-taker snapped.

"Alright, just one second," Jin Shu replied, his tone disarming. As he stepped back, his hand slipped behind his back, producing a small pellet hidden from view.

Biyu moved forward hesitantly, feigning fear.

Jin Shu brought his hand forward in a swift motion, flicking the pellet past the men. Their focus was fixed on Biyu; none of them noticed the small object soaring through the air.

Bang!

The pellet exploded with a deafening crack. The men whipped their heads around instinctively.

Bang!

A shot rang out. The man on the hostage-taker's right collapsed, a hole in his chest.

The hostage-taker spun back, his blade still too close to Sun Li.

Jin Shu was already in motion. In a blur, he closed the distance and grabbed the man’s wrist, wrenching his sword hand away from Sun Li's neck. With a shove, Jin Shu pushed Sun Li out of harm’s way.

The remaining man hesitated before finally reacting. He raised his sword.

Bang!

The shot echoed through the air. He dropped instantly, a gaping wound in his face.

Jin Shu and the hostage-taker tumbled to the ground in a violent struggle. The man tried swinging his sword, but Jin Shu twisted his wrist sharply. A sickening crunch filled the air as the sword clattered to the floor.

A Ka-bar appeared in Jin Shu's hand, aimed for the man’s throat. Desperate, the hostage-taker raised his palm to block the strike. The knife pierced his hand, blood spilling as Jin Shu bore down, pressing his other hand onto the pommel to drive the blade further.

With a small injection of qi, the Ka-bar ignited, deep red flames licking up the blade. The man screamed, his flesh sizzling as the fire consumed his hand. Jin Shu yanked the knife free and leaped back, his eyes locked on the hostage-taker’s futile attempts to extinguish the flames.

The man poured his qi into resisting the fire, only for the flames to flare brighter, greedily feeding on his energy. Realization dawned too late—the more qi he used, the fiercer the fire became. It quickly spread, crawling up his arm and onto his chest.

Jin Shu crouched and drove the still-flaming knife into the man’s heart. His body convulsed as his struggles waned, and moments later, he grew still. Dead.

Jin Shu retrieved the knife, extinguishing the flames with a flick of his wrist, then stood. He barely had a moment to register the silence before a small body threw itself against him.

“Shu-gege! I was sooo scared!” Sun Li sobbed, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

Jin Shu stiffened, his eyes scanning the room for more threats. He ignored her as he methodically assessed the area. No more dark-clothed men seemed to be present, but that didn’t mean the danger had passed.

As he scanned the surroundings, Huai Jiahou, Sun Li’s caretaker, stepped out from a side room. He walked toward them, calm and composed, a stark contrast to the scene of carnage around them.

Jin Shu’s gaze narrowed on the older man. Something felt off. He was too calm—unnaturally so. Huai Jiahou didn’t even glance at the fallen intruders. And while Jin Shu could sense the man’s cultivation in the Core Realm, Jiahou had stayed hidden until now? Why hadn’t he acted sooner?

“Let go,” Jin Shu said, prying Sun Li’s arms from around his waist.

She pouted but obeyed, her eyes lingering on him with a hint of sadness.

“Little prince,” Huai Jiahou called out, his tone gentle. “Let’s get you back to your room. There could be more intruders lurking about.”

Jin Shu tensed, his eyes narrowing. “What did you call her?”

Jiahou blinked, his expression turning puzzled. “Little prince? He’s the Emperor’s youngest, after all,” he said with a chuckle.

“That makes sense,” Jin Shu replied, stepping aside as though satisfied. However, his grip on the Ka-bar tightened.

As Huai Jiahou stepped past him, Jin Shu lunged, his knife aimed for the older man’s back.

At the last moment, Huai Jiahou sidestepped gracefully, deflecting the blade with his palm.

“What are you doing, young man?!” Huai Jiahou shouted, his face twisting with feigned outrage.

“Shu-gege! Why are you attacking old man Jiahou?” Sun Li cried, her voice trembling with confusion.

Jin Shu ignored her, his focus razor-sharp as he closed in again. This time, he wielded two knives—one engulfed in crimson flames, the other emanating an invisible blade of wind.

Huai Jiahou’s demeanor changed. His calm facade dropped, revealing a hardened, calculating expression. “Get the prince!” he barked, his voice laced with authority.

Jin Shu darted a glance over his shoulder. Two sailors stepped out from the scattered crowd, daggers gleaming as they advanced on Sun Li.

“Biyu!” Jin Shu shouted.

Understanding his meaning instantly, Biyu moved between Sun Li and the approaching men. She raised Jin Shu’s M17, her hands steady, but hesitated. The crowd stood in the way, blocking her shot.

Jin Shu couldn’t spare another moment to watch. Huai Jiahou struck, a palm flying toward his chest with crushing force.

Jin Shu crossed his knives in front of his chest just as Huai Jiahou’s palm struck. The force of the Core Realm cultivator’s attack sent him flying backward. His arms folded painfully against his chest as his feet skidded across the ship’s wooden floor, leaving shallow grooves in the planks.

He grimaced, glancing down at his trembling arms. If that palm had hit my chest... I might’ve died. A shudder ran through him. He’s strong.

Jin Shu raised his gaze, locking eyes with Huai Jiahou, who stood smirking smugly.

“Give up, young man,” Huai Jiahou said, his tone condescending. “And I won’t kill you.”

Jin Shu's arms throbbed, the pain making them difficult to move, but he welcomed the stalling. Huai Jiahou seemed confident—too confident—and likely expected Biyu to be overpowered at any moment.

“I’m not going to bother asking why you’re doing this,” Jin Shu said through gritted teeth, his voice shaky but sharp. “I can guess—maybe it’s one of the other princes, or hell, maybe even Uncle. They’re all terrified of Sun Li’s abilities. And, to be honest, so am I.”

He paused, running a shaky hand through his disheveled hair, then sighed in exasperation. “But... why the fuck did you have to do this while I was here?! You couldn’t have waited just one more fucking day?!”

Huai Jiahou’s smirk faltered for the first time, his brow furrowing as he stared at Jin Shu, clearly caught off guard by the sudden outburst.

“Jin Shu!” Biyu’s voice rang out from behind him.

He whipped his head around just in time to see his pistol and karambit flying through the air toward him. Halfway to his hands, they disappeared into the space within his earring.

Jin Shu wanted to check on Biyu, to see if she was holding her own, but the creak of the floorboards ahead snapped his focus forward. Instinctively, he rolled to the side.

Huai Jiahou’s palm smashed into the spot where Jin Shu had been standing. A deafening crack followed as the blow carved a hole clean through the wooden wall, allowing beams of the morning sun to stream inside.

Jin Shu’s knives vanished, replaced by his M17 in a fluid motion. He ejected the magazine, unchambered the round, slotted a fresh mag, and rechambered it—all in under two seconds. Then, without hesitation, he leveled the gun at Huai Jiahou and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

Huai Jiahou moved at the last moment, sensing the danger. The bullet missed, punching a smaller hole through the wall behind him.

Huai Jiahou glanced at the bullet hole, his expression shifting from smugness to caution. His gaze returned to the weapon in Jin Shu’s hands. “That is a dangerous weapon, young man,” he said, his voice low and measured.

Jin Shu’s lips curled into a humorless smile as he shifted his stance. “Very.”

The two stood locked in a standoff, the tension thick as the morning sunlight illuminated the battlefield. Jin Shu’s breath slowed as he steadied his aim. Whatever advantage Jiahou thought he had, Jin Shu was determined to show him he had underestimated the wrong opponent.