Spirit Conductor Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9 – Fxxking Flaming Fxxker

Back a few months before, a giant faction in merchant circle of Tiramikal Continent received huge demands of supply from warring empires of another continent.

The said faction, Tiramikal Merchant Guild, actually was web connections of merchants which almost anybody were banded together by the universal greed. However, nowadays, n.o.body from higher-ups to even foot-servants could escape the busiest moment of the guild to enjoy their hard-earning wealth. The demands this time were so much that Tiramikal Merchant Guild themselves didn’t even have any confidence to complete it with their own men and resources.

It was precisely seven months ago that the merchant guild decided to hire a lot of extra hands to deal with the overwhelming tasks. A lot of mercenaries even groups of bandit made their fortune overnight by completing missions of Tiramikal Merchant Guild. The most profitable missions were the one that high-risk and long period of completion, usually the groups of mission takers had to explore an unknown place, or hidden ruins, even stranded for weeks in a desert of nowhere.

There’s a huge dessert located on the east border of Tiramikal Continent; a home of the rare, high-priced, yet deadly venomous flame scorpions. It’s bladder and sh.e.l.l were so expensive that thousands of adventurers and warriors died for nothing in order to hunt them.

Naturally, of course, Tiramikal Merchant Guild had long set their eyes upon them.

In a small-sized camp, people were laughing and singing and gambling, cast away their worries plus anxiety in order to calm their blazing nerves. They are packs of brave, insane beast-like men. Trading their lives for swift and fruitful wealth. Everybody believes they will be a rich man when they come back home from this expedition. Although, they must survive first to receive their earnings.

Two hidden shadows crawl through the curtain of darkness, nimbly eluding the dimmed orange-light of torchlight. Only when moonlight was covered by thick cloud they soundlessly moved.

Until they arrived at an unremarkable tent the shadows finally stopped. Waiting patiently there. With their body embracing cold dry yellowish sands, the clouds uncovered the moon once again, forcing the shadows retreating into more hidden places. Not long after, a lazily yawning figure entered the tent. Two a.s.sa.s.sins began to load their crossbows.

“Jhuro Yashura, where did you hide my sandals?” yelled an angry voice toward the man in the tent.

“f.u.c.k off. f.u.c.k your dirty sandals. I’m going to sleep,” the man inside answered back with reluctant but higher voice.

“You stole my sandals, you f.u.c.ker. I can’t sleep without my f.u.c.kin’ sandals.”

“Who the f.u.c.k sleeping while wearing their f.u.c.kin’ sandals? f.u.c.kin’ shut up, f.u.c.ker!”

“You f.u.c.kin’ shut up! You’re the f.u.c.ker one, you friggin’ f.u.c.k!”

A new angry yell joins the fray. “You two f.u.c.ker better shut the f.u.c.k up or I will f.u.c.kin’ kill the two of you f.u.c.ker for f.u.c.kin’ good!”

“Then f.u.c.kin’ try, little f.u.c.ker! You f.u.c.ker-s.h.i.+tty-b.a.s.t.a.r.d will f.u.c.kin’ die before you can f.u.c.kin’ say a single f.u.c.kin’ word of ‘f.u.c.k’!” roared Jhuro Yashura.

Rounds and rounds “f.u.c.k” latter, the furious roars died down. Everybody decides to f.u.c.kin’ sleep.

Dimly lighted lamp showing the calm silhouette inside the tent. The a.s.sa.s.sin began to act.

Before, they’re waiting until the howl of the wind was loud enough to cover their not-so-perfect silent crossbows. Now when the time comes, they aimed cautiously at the silhouette of Jhuro Yashura, calculating and predicting if their potent poisons were effective enough against the poison master swordsman of Yashura Family.

Weeping wind of cold night carried away the a.s.sa.s.sins’ deadly poisonous bolt….

Tsk tsk tsk tsk.

Yet the silhouette didn’t move when the flurry of bolts struck him.

One of the black-clad a.s.sa.s.sins gestured his partner to check the body. The other one slowly nod. Then he went crawling.

This a.s.sa.s.sinate mission was so important that their higher-ups would set death penalty if they come home failed. So there must be no mistake. Or they will pay with their life.

So slowly, the a.s.sa.s.sin peeking into the tent, hoping their target would die a silent death inside his own tent.

But that was only the a.s.sa.s.sin’s fleeting hope.

Unfortunately, the one that they were shooting before was a pair of pillows, especially stacked just to look like a sleeping shadow.

His partner, the one who ordered him to check the tent, was calmly observing him from their original position. Pity, he wasn’t quite ready when all of a sudden, a gripping hand of death burst from the yellowish sand beneath him… letting only his m.u.f.fled scream before his neck was slashed with a poisonous and sharp short katana.

After killing one of the a.s.sa.s.sins in a decisive ambush, the then burrowed Jhuro Yashura swiftly showing himself and continued with a waving of his hand, sending three small silver needles toward the remaining enemy.

The a.s.sa.s.sin wanted to dodge, but he was a second slower. One of the three needles pierced his shoulder.

He didn’t die. And the wound was a superficial one. But poison which invades his blood were so strong that his nerves stopped working as he wished.

“I just wanna f.u.c.kin’ sleep, you f.u.c.ker!” muttered Jhuro Yashura. He slowly moves toward the paralyzed a.s.sa.s.sin while irritatingly brushed off dry sands from his hair.

The defeated a.s.sa.s.sin was ready to commit suicide at that moment. But a fast nimble hand slips into his mouth, picking a hidden fast-reacting poison pill inside.

“I was trained full ten-years to shut my mouth. Torture and pain-inflicting poisons are useless! I will not utter a word of information for you!” the a.s.sa.s.sin gritted his teeth.

“Tsk, Blackwood’s dog! Who the f.u.c.k wants any information from dumb f.u.c.k like you? So f.u.c.kin’ annoying!” Jhuro Yashura clicked his tongue.

He picked up the immobilized a.s.sa.s.sin, poured bottles of booze upon him, then sets the pitiful professional killer under fire.

“AAAAARRRRGHHH!!!!”

Then, with a light kick, Jhuro Yashura nonchalantly shoves the high-pitched screaming burned man towards one of his neighbor tents.

“f.u.c.kin’ f.u.c.k f.u.c.k! There’s f.u.c.kin’ fire in my f.u.c.kin’ tent! Ahh! f.u.c.k! Who the f.u.c.k is this screamin’ f.u.c.kin’ flamin’ f.u.c.ker?”

The figure who frustratingly yelled jumped out of his burning tent in an instant, only to realize that f.u.c.ker Jhuro Yashura was nowhere to be seen.