Superman Termination Manual

Subsequently, the shadow transformed by Ke Xiaomo squeezed through the crack and left the library.

"How is that possible..."

The Ink Writer stood rooted to the spot, murmuring hoarsely to himself.

Suddenly he whipped his head around and roared an order at the pedestrians on the street, "Use the Seal Shadow Daggers, stop Ke Xiaomo by any means necessary!"

As soon as the words were out, a hundred ninjas nearby tried to throw their Seal Shadow Daggers, attempting to intercept the shadow moving along the ground.

Hundreds of daggers surged densely like a tide, trying to capture the shadow transformed by Ke Xiaomo, and almost filled the storefronts, traffic lights, and the glass walls of high buildings along the way.

Even so, not a single dagger could catch up with the speed of Ke Xiaomo.

It was like trying to encircle a bird of prey in mid-air with a fishing net, utterly hopeless.

"The Sect Master once said that Ke Xiaomo was very proficient with his Shadow Shapeshifting Skill, but I never expected it to be to this extent; what kind of monstrous talent is this?"

The Ink Writer, with his hands clasped behind his back, watched this scene from the corner of his eye, his face grave as he pondered deeply.

"Also, why was the Seal Shadow Barrier so easily broken? The Sect Master had said that this barrier was highly durable, second only to the Fenglong Barrier, right?"

Thinking this, the Ink Writer looked up at Ke Yinzhi, pondering for half a second, then tentatively shot a blade made of ink from his hand, aiming for Ke Yinzhi's shoulder.

Just as the dagger was about to hit him, it was enveloped by a dark mass and disintegrated into nothing.

"I say... did you just ignore me for a second?"

Ke Yinzhi slowly spoke, his eyes obscured by the fringe of his hair.

As soon as he finished speaking, a dark light flashed through the air.

The Ink Writer's right eye was split in half, fragments of the eyeball squeezed out from its socket, dripping blood onto the ground with a patter.

Immediately after, a deep gash also appeared on his neck.

The Ink Writer's pupils shrank to the size of wheat grains, his back instantly drenched in cold sweat.

With one hand covering his neck, he hastily retreated two or three steps back, while extracting a brush and a scroll from inside his white robe with the other hand.

In that brief half-second exchange, he had assessed his situation.

—He was going to die!

As the Ink Writer moved back, his pupils reflected an image of Ke Yinzhi approaching leisurely. Staring at that flippant face, the effortless gait, his thoughts grew more chaotic.

What kind of monster is this, wait, I seem to have seen these kinds of dark slashes before.

Yes, I've seen them.

The Ink Writer thought, as he covered his throat with one hand, and after a long pause, squeezed out a hoarse sound from his damaged vocal cords.

"An agent of the Management Bureau... the Black Judge?"

"Oh, since you've recognized me, I can't let you live after all. I was going to let you go; that's why I didn't strike fatally."

As Ke Yinzhi spoke, he raised his right hand, pointing his fingertip at him.

Instantly, a dark beam as thick as a finger shot straight towards the Ink Writer's head.

In less than a tenth of a second, the Ink Writer's body splashed apart into ink. When he reappeared, he was on the street, a long distance from Ke Yinzhi.

"Caught on, have you?"

Ke Yinzhi raised an eyebrow, thinking to himself.

"No, that scroll's power is to react automatically when its owner is attacked, transporting him elsewhere... As expected of ninjas, such strange things."

From the street, the Ink Writer looked up, gazing at Ke Yinzhi in the library, and slowly spoke.

"Do you really think I'm as weak as I look?"

"Otherwise?" Ke Yinzhi teased, "There are hardly any superheroes in the world that catch my eye, so you shouldn't feel inferior."

"Let me ask you another question, do you know why I was expelled from the Ninja Sect?"

"I'm not curious about a street thug's background. But honestly... Killing a superhero at random would affect my performance, so could you just honestly scram?"

As Ke Yinzhi spoke, he walked towards him. The pedestrians on the street all stopped, pulling daggers from their waists and throwing them at him, only to be blocked by a sudden rising dark light screen on one side.

But in the next moment, from behind a signboard beside him, ten figures dressed in ninja attire burst forth, wielding long swords and encircling him from all directions.

Without exception, before they even got close, a graceful black arc slashed them in half. Then, broken into pieces, they fell to the ground like a rain woven of blood and bones.

Ke Yinzhi casually walked forward, hands leisurely tucked in his pockets.

The next second, the throats of nearly thirty disguised ninjas on the street were slit, and as they covered their throats, falling incredulously to the ground amidst spurting blood.

"Aren't you worried about your family?" the Ink Writer asked hoarsely, "They are still in Wanxiang City."

"Of course not," Ke Yinzhi chuckled, "because I'm certain that no one in your organization can stop Ke Xiaomo."

"Even the Sect Master?"

"Yes, even the Sect Master." Ke Yinzhi paused, then shrugged, "Well, although I've never seen this Sect Master before. Since you're not running, have you thought about your last words?"

"I return those words to you... What about you, have you thought about your last words?" Enjoy new tales from empire

As the Ink Writer roared, he quickly backed away, his face revealing a fierce expression drastically different from that on the screen.

"Blood Ink Forbidden Skill. Since being expelled from the Ninja Sect, it's been over a decade since I last used this move, didn't expect there would be a time for it to come into play again."

As he spoke, he bit through his right hand, splashing the blood on a blank scroll, then lifted the ink brush to mix the ink and blood on the scroll, as if stirring up a swirling mass of red and black.

Then he lifted the color-changing brush and drew a refined and elegant "dragon" character in the air.

The next moment, accompanied by a roar that echoed through the sky, a dragon formed of blood ink slowly rose.

Atop the dragon's head were two antler-like horns; its blank eyes speckled with a touch of blood, as if adding finishing touches to a dragon painting.

The long whiskers at the sides of its mouth fluttered in the wind, its eight feet and thirty-two claws tightly connected. It clearly had no wings, yet its body undulated in the air like a surging sea of blood.

The Ink Writer merged with the dragon, standing within the huge shadow of the dragon, nourishing it with blood continuously flowing from the cut in his right hand.

The size of the Blood Ink Dragon grew larger and larger until it finally shattered the street surface, and from the collapsed pit, cracked pipes spurted out fluids.

"Whether it's 'Ink Dragon' or 'Blood Ink Forbidden Skill,' they both belong to the Seven Forbidden Techniques of the Ninja Sect, and I have combined the two," said the Ink Writer, "If not constrained by morals, then I would be the strongest in the Ninja Sect, not that Ke Xiaomo who doesn't deserve to replace me at all."

Ke Yinzhi slightly raised an eyebrow: "I see... indeed somewhat impressive."

"Are you ready to die?" the Ink Writer asked.

"More than that, how many more years can you live after using this move?"

Curiously, Ke Yinzhi asked, his gaze fixed on the rapidly aging Ink Writer.

"What does that have to do with you?"

The Ink Writer lifted his face, staring coldly, his reply deliberate.

Ke Yinzhi teased: "It has nothing to do with me, because you are about to die here. How many more years you could live is just a hypothetical statement that exists in another timeline."

Upon hearing this, the Ink Writer slowly curled up the corners of his mouth, his voice tinged with a bloody scent, "I will soon teach you what respect means."

"Well... since you've chosen death, I won't persuade you anymore."

As Ke Yinzhi spoke casually, he lifted his scalpel-like right hand, the dark earring swaying with the movement.