Chapter 24: Chapter Twenty-Four: Are You a Radar? Part 2

Wang Ya stood up and realized her rear was blocked—at least seven or eight people with steel pipes and machetes. The one Zhang Beauty had kicked blocked them momentarily, but they charged again only to be stopped by Zhang Beauty. Someone from the second floor poked half their body out, then one flipped over the window and jumped down at her. Wang Ya quickly retreated against the wall, then lifted her leg and kicked the guy in the face as he landed. He flipped backward, his occiput slamming heavily into the house wall, and he went limp.

On the other side, Old Tang had seized someone’s steel pipe and smashed down wildly on those blocking ahead. Wang Ya heard the whoosh of the pipe cutting through the air and saw people in front of Old Tang falling one after another.

Wang Ya didn’t know how skilled Old Tang was at ghost catching, but in terms of brawling with people, she admitted she couldn’t hold a candle to him. Old Tang tore into this blocking bunch like a tiger among wolves, “whack whack whack” swinging the steel pipe in a frenzy. Bodies littered the ground, and he smoothly cleared the obstacle.

Old Tang charged forward. Zheng Yanxia followed closely, and even Zhang Beauty overtook her and ran ahead, ignoring the few who had gotten up after being kicked down.

Wang Ya hurriedly ran after them. At least four or five with steel pipes and machetes chased behind her. She ran fast and soon exited the passageway behind the makeshift rooms. Then she heard someone roar, “Don’t move!” Light suddenly flashed ahead, and Old Tang, Zheng Yanxia, and Zhang Beauty all stopped. For an instant, Wang Ya almost thought she was a fleeing criminal and ahead were ambushing police.

Wang Ya halted and looked up. Another group blocked ahead—at least a dozen people. One shone a strong flashlight on them, and two held homemade shotguns aimed at them. Seeing them, Wang Ya thought of those town ruffians and punks. Black society? Wang Ya was dumbfounded. What was this situation? From their earlier attacks, it was clear they intended to kill them. Weren’t they afraid of the police? Zheng Yanxia’s family was so rich—if she died here, it would be huge news. They had even used guns and homemade landmines—what a massive case. These people dared? Wang Ya had never imagined TV scenarios would happen to her in real life! She feared no ghost, but so many “black society” members? She truly didn’t know what to do! As Wang Ya stood stunned, she heard Old Tang shout repeatedly, “Hold on! We can talk! We can talk!” Suddenly, fighting sounds erupted behind her. She turned to see the few chasing them had turned back to fight someone.

“Ah— Ah—” Two screams suddenly came from ahead, startling Wang Ya into whipping her head around. She saw the two who had aimed guns at them rolling on the ground. Their gun hands were severed at the elbows, blood gushing out. The severed hands lay on the ground, still gripping the guns. Wang Ya saw the cuts at their elbows were clean—even the wrist bones were sliced neatly, as if instantly chopped by some sharp blade.

The people ahead with steel pipes and machetes stared at the severed hands on the ground with ghostly expressions, eyes full of terror.

Old Tang’s voice boomed, “Scram!” His voice thundered like an explosion, brimming with murderous intent! It sounded like a completely different person from before.

Suddenly, Wang Ya saw the nearest person’s arm “snap!” drop to the ground without warning, the steel pipe he gripped clanging down onto the severed hand. Blood sprayed from the stump. The man “Ah!” screamed, looked down at his hand, then clutched his arm and half-kneeled, emitting shrill wails! The rest retreated seven or eight steps in fright, and then another person’s arm bizarrely snapped off, the wound equally neat!

“Ghost—!” Someone shouted it, and the blockers fled for their lives. Even the three with severed arms picked up their limbs and ran, leaving a trail of blood.

Wang Ya saw Old Tang reach out as if catching something. A white flash appeared, and a Paper Effigies materialized in Old Tang’s hand. Its features were drawn with a pen, its body a sheet of snowy white paper. Wang Ya recognized this paper person. Earlier, when they were trapped in the car by the Dead Old Lady, Old Tang had released two Paper Effigies against her—one destroyed, the other floating back. This was a Shikigami!

Wang Ya stared at Old Tang in shock. She hadn’t expected his Shikigami to even kill people! Even less had she expected him to release a Shikigami against these “black society” thugs. She heard footsteps approaching from behind, like someone running. Turning, she saw Dong Zi and Fang Yan rushing over.

The two bodyguards’ first action upon arriving was to run to Zheng Yanxia’s side and ask, “Miss Huang, are you alright?”

Wang Ya glanced at the over-one-meter-wide passageway behind. Bodies writhed on the ground. She was both shocked and suspicious: Where did these black society guys come from?

Zheng Yanxia said softly, “Fang Yan, call the police. Wang Ya, there’s still a ghost—handle it. Qing Jie, trouble you to hold the line. Martial Uncle, please watch for hidden knife wielders.” She raised her voice and shouted, “Friends, if you’re not from Xuan Men, please don’t get involved in Xuan Men’s disputes.” She paused slightly, then added, “I’ll give you one minute to withdraw.” She loudly reported positions: “Martial Uncle, ten o’clock ahead, behind the excavator—one. Left front, twenty meters, under the enclosure wall—one. Warehouse direction, on the roof—one.”

As Zheng Yanxia spoke, Wang Ya suddenly saw a black shadow dart from the shadows under the left-front enclosure wall, flip over it, and flee. Wang Ya was dumbfounded and inwardly exclaimed, “Zheng Yanxia, are you a radar?”