After Bloodhand Hall fell, fame exploded.
But Two-Dog wasn't satisfied—he wanted to cut out the Dou clan's cancer himself.
One night he infiltrated Princess Guantao's largest Jiangnan villa alone.
Three hundred deathsworn, ten layers of traps, poison smoke everywhere.
Two-Dog carried only his pig-killing knife and Old Black, strolling like it was his backyard.
He found the princess clutching a portrait of little Emperor Wu, lost in thought.
Two-Dog laid the blade against her throat and whispered like a ghost:
"That cup of wine you made my mother drink—was it tasty?"
Princess Guantao pissed herself, sobbing: "Spare me! I'll give you silver! I'll give you rank!"
Two-Dog smiled, lifted her chin with the blade tip:
"I'm not short on silver or rank anymore. I'm short one life—yours."
The knife fell. Blood sprayed three feet.
Old Black sniffed the blood on the floor, found it too rank, and trotted away.
Two-Dog walked out carrying the head, howling at the moon:
"Next up—Empress Dowager Dou!"