novelSusiti Chapter 28 Death Audit
Chapter 28 Death Audit
dusk.
The setting sun, like blood, dyed the jagged rocks on both sides of Black Wind Pass a dark red. The wind, passing through the pass, emitted a wailing sound like the cries of ghosts.
Seventy or eighty bandits, like a pack of gray-black wolves, brandished rusty knives and axes, howling as they charged down the hillside. Greed had overwhelmed their reason—beneath the banner that read "Lu Clan of Ziyang," they saw not a tough nut to crack with armed guards, but a pile of moving silver, and the twenty large carts that might be carrying grain and women.
In the center of the chariot formation, Lu Yan sat on a chestnut horse, not even drawing the short blade at his waist. He held the reins in his left hand and an hourglass in his right.
"One hundred and fifty steps away."
"One hundred steps away."
His voice was as calm as if he were reading numbers in a laboratory, without the slightest hint of battlefield excitement.
In front of him, at the gap in the circular formation.
Zhao Tie led ten carefully selected archers, forming a thin horizontal line. They carried heavy flintlock muskets, forged using a double-layer welding method (at this time, they were known as "Lu's self-igniting muskets"). The barrels were dark and dull, and although the surface was not polished smoothly, giving it a rough, handcrafted feel, the thickened barrel walls gave it a solid, violent aesthetic.
These ten men were not sharpshooters; most of them were refugees from Liaodong who had only handled a gun two weeks prior. Their hands trembled, their breathing was rapid, and some were so nervous they nearly broke the trigger.
"Don't panic!" Zhao Tie, leaning on a cane, shouted hoarsely, "Do as the boss taught us! Don't aim at anyone's head! Keep your gun level! Look at that patch of grass ahead! That's the 'baseline'! As soon as they cross that line, pull the trigger with your eyes closed!"
This is Lu Yan's "Industrialized Shooting Theory".
In an era without rifling and with extremely poor barrel gas tightness, pursuing individual soldier accuracy was a meaningless waste of resources. What he wanted wasn't sniping, but probability coverage—a "barrage wall."
"Seventy paces away."
"Fifty paces away."
The bandits on the hillside were already close. The bandit leader, "One-Ear," was at the forefront, and he could even see the terrified (actually tense) expressions on the faces of his guards. He laughed wildly, thinking that the strange iron pipes they carried were just fire pokers used to scare them.
"That scholar is mine! Nobody can take him!" One-Ear roared.
In that instant, Lu Yan's hourglass was emptied.
A crisp "snap" sound.
"Fire."
There was no roaring or screaming, only a cold command.
Zhao Tie swung the command flag down suddenly.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
A series of loud, popping sounds suddenly erupted, like thunder from a clear sky. Three of the ten flintlock muskets misfired due to spring steel fatigue or damp fuses, emitting an embarrassing "click" sound.
But the remaining seven rang.
Seven orange-red flames, accompanied by thick white smoke, burst forth, and seven irregular lead bullets, each weighing five qian (approximately 15 grams), roared and tore through the air, propelled by the immense kinetic energy of the gunpowder.
At this distance, aiming is not required.
"One-Ear," who was at the forefront, felt as if he had been struck hard in the chest by an invisible giant hammer. His proud iron-plated leather armor was as fragile as paper in front of the lead bullet. The lead bullet tumbled and pierced his chest cavity, shattering his lungs, and then blasted a fist-sized bloody hole in his back with bone fragments and flesh.
Before he could even scream, he was thrown backward by the immense kinetic energy, crashing heavily into the two henchmen behind him.
But this is only the beginning.
The bullets didn't stop just because one person fell. In this densely packed charging formation, almost every bullet found its destination. Some shattered kneecaps, some ripped open skulls, and some even pierced through one person and then burrowed into the stomach of the person behind.
It only lasted for a moment.
The front rank of the charge was cleanly cut down as if by an invisible scythe.
"ah--!!"
The screams were delayed for half a second before they erupted.
The bandits who hadn't yet reached them were stunned by the sudden explosion and smoke. They had never seen such a weapon before—a weapon without a match, requiring no ignition, it just went off as soon as it was raised, and when it went off, it killed!
"Sorcery! It's sorcery!"
"Thunder struck someone!"
The once fierce bandits were instantly thrown into chaos. Their steps faltered, and those behind bumped into those in front, creating utter confusion.
"Load the ammunition!" Zhao Tie roared.
The shooters frantically began cleaning the chambers, pouring out the powder, loading the lead bullets, and compacting them with a cleaning rod. According to training, this process should take at least twenty seconds.
But Lu Yan did not give the enemy that twenty-second window of opportunity.
"Changying," Lu Yan called out softly from his horse.
"exist!"
Zhao Changying, who had been holding back at the rear of the circular formation, now had bloodshot eyes. He hung the hard bow back on his saddle and took a heavy lance from the Victory Hook (an old antique he had found in the Fan family's storeroom and had been re-polished).
"Guards! Follow me!"
"Crush them!"
Zhao Changying spurred his horse, and the Liaodong warhorse beneath him, which had recovered its robust physique after a month of being fed with fine feed, let out a long neigh and charged out from the gap in the wagon formation like a red lightning bolt.
Behind him, twenty skilled horsemen (the first rudimentary cavalrymen trained on warhorses from the Imperial Stables) brandished their sabers and followed with strange cries.
This is not a battle.
This is the harvest.
The infantry bandits, already terrified by the muskets and in disarray, faced only one fate when confronted with the charge of the inexperienced but well-equipped cavalry: to be trampled underfoot.
"Pfft!"
Zhao Changying's lance, aided by the horse's momentum, easily pierced through a bandit leader who was trying to resist, lifting him up like a skewer of candied hawthorns and throwing him aside.
The cavalrymen sliced through the bandits' ranks like a hot knife through butter, instantly cutting them apart.
"Spare me! Hero, spare me!"
"I surrender! Don't kill me!"
The remaining bandits knelt down and begged for mercy, dropping their weapons and banging their heads on the gravel ground.
The battle was over. From the opening of the guns to the collapse, it took no more than the time it takes to brew a cup of tea.
Lu Yan rode his horse slowly out of the chariot formation.
The air was thick with the pungent smell of sulfur and the strong stench of blood. He didn't even dismount, but coldly stared at the corpses and the prisoners kneeling and begging for mercy.
The carriage curtain was lifted a crack.
Liu Cheng, the eunuch who had been hiding in the car, was now staring wide-eyed at the still-smoking muskets and Zhao Changying's back, which resembled that of a god of death.
His hands were trembling.
Not because of fear, but because of... excitement.
He had seen the arquebuses of the Divine Machine Battalion in the palace; they were cumbersome to operate, prone to exploding, and less effective than fire pokers. But what he had just witnessed—the volley of fire with no unnecessary movements, the terrifying destructive power—completely overturned his understanding of firearms.
"Lu... Scholar Lu..." Liu Cheng climbed out of the carriage, ignoring the mud on the ground, and quickly walked to Lu Yan's horse. "What... what kind of divine weapon was that just now?"
Lu Yan turned his head, his gaze gleaming coldly in the setting sun.
"Eunuch Liu, that's the 'insurance' that Lu bought for your batch of goods."
He pointed to the wounded soldiers on the ground who were still alive, his tone devoid of pity, only filled with a chilling rationality: "In this world, reasoning is useless. Only when you hold more violence than others will they sit down and listen to your reasoning."
"Changying," Lu Yan ordered, turning his head.
"Here." Zhao Changying rode back, covered in blood.
"This place is too close to the main road. Leaving any survivors alive would attract the attention of the authorities, which is an 'uncontrollable risk.'" Lu Yan took out a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped the bloodstains from his fingers.
"Clean it up."
"Drag the body into the ravine and bury it. Cut off the head of that 'one-eared' guy and preserve it with lime. When we get to Tianjin, we can give him a 'gift' to the local military commissioner."
"yes!"
After the battle ended, Lu Yan was preparing to order the cleanup of the battlefield.
A figure emerged silently from the back of the convoy.
It's Shen Qing.
This usually quiet and unassuming young man was now squatting beside the corpse of a bandit, expertly examining the victim's clothes. His movements were extremely professional, as if he had done it countless times before.
"Master." Shen Qing stood up, holding several things in his hands—a blood-stained waist tag, a blood-soaked letter, and a copper coin engraved with strange symbols.
"These people aren't ordinary bandits." Shen Qing's voice was soft, but every word carried a chilling undertone. "This waist tag is standard for the Dezhou Guard, but the characters have been scraped off. This letter, though soaked in blood, is clearly written in code. And these copper coins…"
He handed the copper coin to Lu Yan. A lotus flower was engraved on the back of the coin.
"A token of the White Lotus Sect."
Lu Yan took the copper coin, his brows furrowed. Bandits, garrison troops, the White Lotus Sect… the fact that these three were intertwined meant this ambush was no accident.
"How do you know all this?" Lu Yan looked at Shen Qing with sharp eyes.
Shen Qing was silent for a moment, then lowered his head: "I...have met you before."
He didn't say much, and Lu Yan didn't press him for details. But from that moment on, Lu Yan's gaze towards Shen Qing changed. This young man, whom he had picked up from a refugee camp, was definitely not as simple as he appeared.
"Put these things away safely." Lu Yan returned the copper coins to Shen Qing. "When we get back, I need a detailed report."
"yes."
Shen Qing responded and disappeared back into the shadows of the convoy, as if he had never been there.
As the sickening sound of blades piercing flesh and screams abruptly ceased, Blackwind Pass returned to deathly silence.
Liu Cheng couldn't help but swallow hard as he watched this scene.
Looking at the young scholar, whose expression remained calm in the setting sun, a sudden realization dawned on him:
This Lu Yan is no ordinary scholar.
He is a wolf in sheep's clothing. No, he is a demon in human skin.
But for Liu Cheng now, the more ferocious this evil spirit is, the safer his business will be, and the more secure his position in the palace will be.
"Excellent! Excellent strategy!" Liu Cheng gave a thumbs up, his smile twisted slightly. "Brother Lu, with this force, we can go anywhere in the world! This deal of ours was well worth it!"
Lu Yan threw the handkerchief on the ground, covering the pool of blood.
"You flatter me, Father-in-law. This is just part of risk control."
He turned his horse around and pointed it north.
"Let's go. Next stop, Tianjin."