The bandit leader was confused—
and terrified.
He tried to move his body, but his muscles refused to obey him.
Only his jaw and eyes still worked.
As his eyes shifted desperately, he saw it—
All his companions lay scattered across the ground in the same condition as him.
Paralyzed.
Helpless.
Then his gaze stopped.
Ming was walking toward him.
Slowly.
Step by step.
The bandit leader understood.
My time has come.
Ming pulled out a short knife.
Gluttony's eyes narrowed instantly.
He recognized it at once.
It was the knife he had given Ming long ago—
back when he was still a general, the day they first met.
Ming stopped and turned his head slightly.
"Greed."
"Yes, my lord?"
Ming pointed toward a young man nearby.
"Cover his eyes. He shouldn't see this."
Greed looked at the bandit.
The man was young—no more than twenty-three or twenty-four years old.
Greed didn't understand why Ming wanted this, but he obeyed without hesitation and covered the man's eyes.
Ming turned back to the bandit leader.
A faint smile curved his lips—
not one of joy, but of cold satisfaction.
"You know," Ming said quietly, his voice calm enough to be terrifying,
"there's something I truly enjoy in this world."
The bandit leader's eyes trembled.
Ming leaned closer, his shadow swallowing the man's face.
"Killing people like you," he continued,
"people who butcher the weak, who laugh while doing it…
people who think power gives them the right to decide who lives."
The bandit leader tried to scream.
Tried to beg.
His throat convulsed—but no sound came.
Ming's fist moved.
It wasn't fast.
It wasn't flashy.
It was inevitable.
Crack.
The blow shattered the man's jaw, twisting it out of place.
Then Ming used his knife like a butcher, cutting off the man's limbs one by one—starting with his hand as he did. The leader was still alive, watching what was happening to his own body, yet he couldn't react or even scream. Tears streamed from his eyes. Around him, his subordinates lay helpless on the ground, watching the scene unfold, their faces twisted in terror at what that man was doing to their leader.
They began crying out in panic, some shouting, "Y-yaa! A demon! He's not human—he's a demon!" as Ming continued. cutting his other hand from his body
The bandit leader couldn't endure it. He died after losing his first hand.
Ming clicked his tongue and said calmly, "What a shame. He died too quickly."
Then, with a twisted smile and cold eyes, Ming looked at the others and said, "Don't worry. There's still plenty left to enjoy."
Seeing this, the remaining bandits completely broke. Those who still could began biting their tongues, choosing death over facing him.
Meanwhile, the Sins were trembling. Fear gripped their bodies tightly.
Gluttony was the only one who managed to stay somewhat composed—he had seen Ming deal with Soho's companions before—but even he was sweating.
Pride, who usually showed no concern for anyone, found it hard to breathe.
Greed finally understood what Ming had meant by a "merciful death."
He looked at the young man whose eyes were covered. The man was still alive. He hadn't seen anything… and He didn't know what had happened.
Ming gently his face, not wanting him to go insane… or end his own life like the others.
After killing all of them, Ming returned and sat beside the well.
He drank deeply, then began washing the bloodstains from his clothes.
The Sins only watched him.
Not one of them could utter even a single word.
Wrath finally stepped forward and said softly,
"My lord… I will clean the rest."
Ming looked at her and nodded.
As she worked, silence swallowed the place.
Then Pride spoke, his voice controlled but strained.
"My lord… may I ask something?"
Ming didn't look up. "Speak."
"How did you stop them?" Pride asked. "How did you paralyze them without even touching them?"
Ming replied calmly, as if stating an obvious fact.
"It's simple. I controlled the qi inside their bodies and stopped it."
The moment he said that, everyone froze.
Controlled qi… inside another person's body?
They all tried to understand it, but the more they thought, the more absurd it sounded.
Even strongest person they know couldn't do something like that.
It was like saying someone could control another person's blood flow at will.
Impossible.
In the end, they reached the same conclusion without speaking it aloud—
Ming possessed a supreme martial art… one he had no intention of revealing.
Pride bowed his head.
"Thank you for the guidance, my lord."
What they didn't know…
Was that Ming had told the truth.
By using both types of qi, he had gained the ability to influence the qi in his surroundings.
Then Greed looked at the man whose eyes were still covered.
"My lord," he asked, "why did you spare this one?"
Ming glanced at the trembling figure and said flatly,
"Ah… I forgot about him."
"There's something wrong," Gluttony said. "We don't know what's happened in the world while we were away. We might get information from him."
Ming released the paralysis.
The man collapsed to the ground, finally able to move and speak.
The first thing he saw was the bodies of his companions scattered across the earth.
His face drained of color.
Ming spoke calmly, his voice carrying an invisible pressure.
"If you want to live, answer me honestly. I'll let you go."
Fear and hope clashed in the man's eyes.
"You… you're telling the truth?"
"I never take back my words," Ming replied.
The man swallowed hard.
"Then ask. I'll answer anything."
Ming said, "Tell me. What major events happened this past year?"
The man hesitated.
"I… I don't think anything important—"
The man trembled and hurriedly added,
"There was a war. And a rebellion."
"What war?" Gluttony demanded.
The man stared at them in disbelief.
"You… you don't know?"
Ming's eyes turned cold.
"Don't ask questions. Answer."
The man took a shaky breath.
"One year ago… the Blood Cult declared war against the world."
The moment those words fell—Everyone's eyes widened.