Chapter 886 — The Mighty General in All His Might

The horror of it was beyond bearing, for there had been no warning whatsoever. One after another the musketeers died, and at last terror took hold of the men. They were pirates, the whole lot of them, men who licked blood from the blade of a knife and did business with their heads lashed to their belts.

They did not fear death, but they feared dying like this — for no reason they could name. What in the world was happening? Wei Zhao had not even moved from where he stood, and already several of their number were dead.

So the musketeers went mad, and began to rake Wei Zhao with a frenzy of fire. It was his doing, they were certain of it; kill Wei Zhao and everything would be settled.

Bang! Bang! Bang! The shots rang out in confusion, and still men came flying out of their hiding places with each report, and died.

"Ya-ya-yaaah! Shoot! Shoot him dead!" Zhen Yingjun roared, beside himself with fury. "What is this? Wei Zhao, what in hell have you done?"

A cold smile hung at the corner of Wei Zhao's mouth. The musketeers? Let them all wait patiently for death. You lay in ambush here — you should have made your peace with dying.

Yet for all his contempt for these men, Wei Zhao did not let down his guard. They had gone completely mad now and were firing at random. Some, hoping to escape the curse of death, had begun spraying bullets in every direction.

Even as he dodged the bullets, Wei Zhao moved swiftly toward Gu Mengyao and Shen Yushu. He feared that in their madness these men might wound the two young women.

"I'll take you with me!" Zhang Wushan was a petty squad leader among the musketeers, but he was on the verge of complete collapse. Watching his comrades die one after another, he did not know what to do. And then his younger brother Zhang Wuyu had just now gone flying out with a swoosh and fallen to his death — Zhang Wushan's mind snapped entirely.

He no longer cared about concealing himself. He leaped straight out of his ambush position and began firing wildly with his gun. His mind was gone; he could not tell friend from foe, and he even opened fire in Zhen Yingjun's direction.

Zhen Yingjun was aghast and hastily ducked behind Gu Mengyao and Shen Yushu.

At the crack of Zhang Wushan's gun, Wei Zhao's brows knit sharply. He cast all else aside and raced toward Gu Mengyao and Shen Yushu — for Zhang Wushan had aimed that shot toward Gu Mengyao, and by the angle of his fire, barring accident, it would certainly strike the young lady.

There was no time to shout a warning. The young lady's hands and feet were bound with rope; flight was utterly impossible. Wei Zhao set his jaw, flung himself in front of Gu Mengyao — and in almost the same instant, a bullet buried itself in the root of his thigh.

Damn! Wei Zhao broke into a sweat. That spot again? Last time, in the bank, a thug's bullet had wounded him in the root of the thigh, and when he went to the hospital to have the bullet removed he had been mortified beyond words. And now, of all places, here again...

"Ah!" Gu Mengyao screamed. She too realized that Wei Zhao had been hit. He — he had taken a bullet for her?

Last time, at the bank, it had been Wei Zhao as well, hit by a bullet at the young lady's side, and Gu Mengyao had felt nothing particular then. But now — why did her heart ache so? It seemed to Gu Mengyao that the bullet had struck her own heart, leaving her with a wrenching, breathless pain...

"Wei Zhao, how bad is it?" Gu Mengyao wanted to reach out and feel his wound, but her hands and feet were bound, and she could not move.

"How touching, Yao-yao!" Shen Yushu sighed. "Shield Brother took a bullet for you! When you get home you'll simply have to give yourself to him to repay him!"

"Give myself to him? At a time like this, you talk such nonsense? Don't you see Wei Zhao's been shot?" Gu Mengyao was caught between laughter and tears at Shen Yushu's words — whether she was deliberately avoiding the question or simply worried about Wei Zhao's injury, she did not want to speak of giving herself to anyone.

Yet in her heart Gu Mengyao was wondering: if Wei Zhao truly asked her to give herself to him, would she? Would she? It seemed she would. How could that be?

"Oh, Shield Brother's a doctor. A little wound like this is nothing to him." Shen Yushu was calm in the face of danger. Seeing that Wei Zhao still stood, none the worse, and had not so much as flinched after being hit, she knew he must be all right.

And indeed Wei Zhao was all right — it was only one bullet. Shen Yushu was right: Wei Zhao was a doctor, and in the instant he threw himself in front of the shot he had chosen his position, avoiding bone and artery, so the bullet had done no more than lodge in the muscle. It did not matter if it stayed there for the time being.

Otherwise, after he was shot last time, he could never have followed the thugs into their car and, along the way, snatched their guns.

But at this moment Wei Zhao had no thought to spare for his wound. His right hand flicked, and a silver needle appeared between his fingers. Zhang Wushan had gone mad, and Wei Zhao must finish the man quickly. He had not expected Zhen Yingjun's men to be so weak of nerve — frightened out of their wits already?

In truth, it was not that the musketeers were weak of nerve. They killed and plundered on the sea day in and day out; their courage had long since grown bigger than a basketball. It was only that today's events were too uncanny. They did not fear dying by the blade, nor by a bullet through the skull — but this manner of death, men flying through the air, they had never seen before. It was too horrible.

Wei Zhao was just about to finish off Zhang Wushan when, before he could even loose the silver needles, General Weiwu leaped out, sprang nimbly behind Zhang Wushan, planted all four paws against his back — and just like his companions, Zhang Wushan went flying with a whoosh, crashed to the ground, and died on the spot.

"Sister Yaoyao, General Weiwu is so badass!" Though Shen Yushu already knew it was General Weiwu who had killed the men of the musketeer squad, seeing the dog commit murder with her own eyes still left her stunned.

Gu Mengyao's eyes went wide as well. She stared at General Weiwu, the dog she had raised for ten years — this was possible too? How had she never noticed that General Weiwu had such a ferocious side? Hmm... it seemed that ever since it was injured last time and Wei Zhao healed it, it had been a little different?

This time Zhen Yingjun finally understood how his men had died — kicked to death by a dog? This world had gone completely insane.

"A Yellow-rank... dog?" A flicker of shock crossed Ma Zhu's face!