<h4>Chapter 25: 025</h4>


    <strong>Trantor: </strong>EndlessFantasy Trantion <strong>Editor: </strong>EndlessFantasy Trantion


    “Yes, that’s the one. You may not know, but the city police have sent their entire force there. On top of that, there are vehicles constantly entering and leaving their station there,” Russell said all of a sudden.


    “Wasn’t it a fatal robbery?” Lin Sheng asked casually.


    “Who knows? It could be a narrative for the unsuspecting public!” Russell sneered. “And why would they need to mobilize the entire city police force and putter about so long just for a robber?”


    “Indeed.” Lin Sheng nodded in agreement.


    “Forget it! Let’s concentrate on our sword practice. Those things don’t concern us. Come on, it’s my turn!” Russell yelled.


    Lin Sheng nodded in acquiescence and braced for Russell’s advances, which were more form than substance; his movements were all for show.


    Right from the start, he began to correct Russell’s mistakes. While doing so, the words of the girl with the drink cart kept ringing in his head.


    <i>“While I was pushing my cart, I passed by the spot once and saw blood everywhere! It lookedpletely like a torture scene!”</i>


    Also, there were Russell’s words...


    “My dad’s asked me not to go out recently, especially into the wilderness”


    Not just his, but Shayeen’s family had said the same thing. They were obviously worried that the alleged fatal robbery would pose a safety concern to Russell and Shayeen.


    “Hey,” after a while of sparring, Russell suddenly spoke, “Master Lin, you’re a real swordsman, aren’t you?”


    “What do you mean? I don’t quite get you.” Lin Sheng appeared baffled.


    “There are two distinct camps in the world of Naxi Swordsmanship: the showmanship and the swordsmanship,” Russell exined.


    “Master Lin, why don’t you teach me a couple of beautiful yet practical movements?” he said with a cheeky grin.


    “I know no such thing.” Lin Sheng shook his head.


    He had inherited a little swordsmanship skill from Ravel, a veteran soldier, and the mercenary, a private military contractor, who mainly exercised practicality in their fighting skills.


    “What a shame,” Russell swung his sword and grumbled.


    “Are you sure you don’t know, Master Lin?” an unyielding Shayeen, who stood beside him, chimed in.


    Lin Sheng thought for a moment and said, “There may be such swordsmanship, but I’ve never learned it.”


    “What are all of you thinking? You should already be grateful for having a master instructor. Stop whining.” Madin looked baffled.


    “What’s the use of learning swordsmanship if it doesn’t look cool?” Annoyed, Russell spread his hands.


    “Swordsmanship should look cool, without which there is no point in learning.” Shayeen nodded in agreement.


    Madin seemed to be divided now. Lin Sheng looked them, disheartened, not knowing what to say.


    Born with silver spoons in their mouths, they were umitted and would give up at the drop of a hat. Lin Sheng finally understood why no instructor wanted to teach them because these three chaps were hopeless. The game was not worth the candle, but he did not want to lose this high-paying job just yet.


    Lin Sheng was hesitant after he pondered for a moment. “Perhaps it is for self-defense?”


    “Self-defense?”


    Hearing the proposition, the trio’s eyes fell on Lin Sheng.


    “Carrying this huge sword is cumbersome enough, not to mention you’ll most likely be hit by a bullet before you can even draw your sword. Don’t you think so?” asked Shayeen, shaking her head.


    Her family was in the arms dealing business, so she knew that better than anyone else there.


    “Not everyone has a gun,” Lin Sheng said. “If you think the sword is slow, try me.”


    “Seriously?” Russell became excited. “I’ve had professional training in knife techniques for self-defense before; close-quartersbat within two meters—it was a special kind of training. Why don’t we spar?”


    Lin Sheng knew that if he still did not show his true worth, these rich kids would probably find some excuse to fire him within the next few days. He did not want to lose his job yet.


    “Why not!”


    He wanted to test his strength too. He had only fought the rotten swordsmen in his dream. Perhaps, he could take this opportunity to gauge how good he was in the real world.


    Shayeen and Madin immediately champed at the bit when they heard the two throw down the gauntlet.


    Lin Sheng still used the same sword but had changed into a sh-resistant suit, while Russell, still wearing his protective gear, swapped his sword for a dagger. They stood facing each other in the middle of the sparring ring.


    “Master Lin, may I remind you that Russell is no amateur. His family previously hired a retiredmando to train him,” Shayeen said matter-of-factly.


    “Thanks for the heads-up.” Lin Sheng pulled down his visor and signaled Russell to start.


    Wiping away his cheeky expression, Russell drew out his dagger and held it in a reverse grip.


    They were two meters apart from each other. At that distance, Lin Sheng did not even have enough time to draw his sword, and Russell would stab him in the chest with just a lunge.


    Looking on, the two spectators in the sparring room were on the edge of their seats.


    “In Naxi swordsmanship, winning and losing usually happens in a split second. Unless both sides are evenly matched, the fight won’t take long,” Shayeen said in a low voice.


    “Now, let’s see how Master Lin manages—”


    Just then, a grating loud nk was heard.


    Russell was flung out, and he crashed hard on the floor while the dagger dropped from his hand.


    Lin Sheng looked down vacantly at Russell, his sword dangling beside him.


    “What—What just happened?” Madin was bewildered.


    “I—I don’t know!” Shayeen did not see what happened too.


    Before everyone could grasp the situation, an embarrassed Russell had bounced back up swiftly and aimed his dagger straight at Lin Sheng’s waist from the side.


    *aank!*


    In a sh, Russell was down on the floor, faceup. Before the others could make a sound, he roared like a beast, got back up to his feet, and pounced on Lin Sheng.


    *aank!*


    Sparks flew, and Russell was sent flying away with his dagger. This resulted in a long cut in the floor mat.


    He struggled to get back up but was too exhausted after tumbling twice in session.


    Lin Sheng tilted his sword sideways and walked up to him calmly. With just one swing of his hand, the sword tip reached Russell’s neck, stopping short of shing his throat.


    Russell’s shock, confusion, and embarrassment were reflected in the mirror-like de.


    “Would you like to learn?” Lin Sheng asked.


    Russell swallowed.


    Since the founding of the club, he had hired a dozen instructors, all of whom were masters of Naxi Swordsmanship, but none were as threatening as the one before him.


    The feeling was...


    “This is too awesome!” He suddenly guffawed uncontrobly, with Madin and Shayeen joining in on the hee-haw.


    Lin Sheng pulled back his sword. Seeing how excited they were, he suddenly did not know what to do.