Chapter Eighty: The Art of Persuasion

“Pretty decent terms for you, really. Don’t think this shell can save your life; weren’t you nearly dead just now? I’ll tell you this: as for the people down there, I don’t know them, and I’m not familiar with them either. And as for why I shot you, it’s because you were just too damn infuriating. To put it plainly, don’t try to threaten me with the people below. If I can save them, I will. If I can’t, then killing you and the rest of you will still count as revenge, and I’ll be able to live with myself.”

Li Daoran’s tone was impeccably controlled as he spoke in a voice that sounded almost heartfelt.

“If you don’t agree, then don’t expect to die easy either. You think all I can do is drown you? How convenient—I happen to have time. In these woods, there’s no shortage of ants. And I’m going to make this personal. I’ll get a few hives, pour them right into your armor, and you can drink as much as you like. Then I’ll make you spit it all back out. After that, you can just lie there. I can tell you this with full responsibility: the ants in these woods will be the most unforgettable and most hated things you ever meet before you die.”

As he spoke, Li Daoran pinched a red ant underfoot and held it up where Okamoto Ichiki could see it clearly.

“Look. A tiny tree ant. Around here there are more than a dozen kinds of ants. Of course, I wouldn’t let them kill you too easily either. It’d bother me if you died too comfortably. There’s one kind that, when it bites, releases a toxin that can drive a person into hallucinations. There’s another that can make your flesh rot. Oh, by the way, do you know what it feels like to watch your own body crawl with maggots?”

“You kill quickly. I saw it. In the blink of an eye, a person’s dead. But I’m different from you. I kill slowly. So slowly that you’ll keep wondering why I still haven’t died. Heh.” As he said it, Li Daoran laughed to himself.

Charles’s words had made him feel vindicated, and yet a little chilled to the bone.

But when he repeated them himself, there was still a difference from Charles’s tone. Charles had sounded dark and ominous, with a chilling conviction that made every word credible. Li Daoran’s version, however, was full of eager excitement, as though he could scarcely wait to stop talking and seemed almost unable to contain his thrill.

“What do you want me to do?” Okamoto Ichiki’s weak voice came through.

A smile rose at the corner of Li Daoran’s mouth, but he said nothing. Instead, he hauled Okamoto Ichiki upright, carried him to the edge of the big pit, and threw him straight down. Then he jumped in after him, pressed his head down, and forced his entire body back under the water so he could not move.

“Ah, that’s better. Not talking now, pretending to be some kind of master? I’m good to you, aren’t I? You’ve thrown up so much the stink’s making me sick. Hurry up and wash yourself properly. Don’t move around.”

Li Daoran said this while holding Okamoto Ichiki down as he struggled in the water.