I Stepped on a Bug, and the System Says I Slayed a Dragon?-Chapter 77: The Sword Demon’s Rage Will Cause a River of Blood? Then Don’t Blame Me for Eradicating the Threat

Chapter 77: Chapter 77: The Sword Demon’s Rage Will Cause a River of Blood? Then Don’t Blame Me for Eradicating the Threat

"The Grassland Sword Saint is dead!?"

Qin Yang was taken aback, a little surprised.

’I was just complimenting the old man on his mental fortitude yesterday, and now he’s dead from sheer rage?’

’His composure didn’t just break; it shattered.’

’Then again, he brought this on himself. With a personality that paranoid, a single bad thought could turn him demonic. He loved courting death for no reason. If he was truly provoked, he’d be capable of anything—murder, arson, you name it.’

’His death is a good way to settle things.’

"This is great news, Old Qin! Good riddance to that old bastard!"

Xia He said animatedly while scrolling through his phone, "Everyone’s talking about it online. I can’t believe some people actually sympathize with that monster. They’ve clearly never had their own dojo get wrecked!"

"Yeah, it’s pretty absurd."

Qin Yang agreed noncommittally and pulled out his own phone to take a look.

News about it was plastered all over the internet. The Grassland Sword Saint’s obituary was the number one trending topic, and the comments below were a mess of conflicting opinions.

The reactions were intense.

"You should respect the dead. For a Sword Saint of his generation to fall just like that... it’s such a shame. A huge loss for the Sword Dao Realm."

"What’s there to be sorry about? So what if his Sword Dao was incredible? It’s not like he was going to teach it to you."

"Exactly! Just think about it. How many dojos did that master and disciple duo challenge, and how many Sword Hearts did they shatter along the way? It’s good riddance, plain and simple!"

"He loved to go around provoking people, and now it’s come back to bite him. Serves him right, hahaha!"

"We’re all adults here. You have to be responsible for your own actions."

He glanced over the comments. They were a mix of sighs, mockery, and gloating—nothing of substance.

Qin Yang immediately backed out of the comments and clicked on a live video from the scene.

A view of the Jianghai Hotel quickly appeared on the screen.

The magnificent entrance was swarmed with a noisy crowd. Reporters, catching wind of the news, had descended on the scene, blocking the entire street. An arsenal of cameras and telephoto lenses was aimed at the building.

Huyan Sword, dressed in black mourning clothes, emerged from the hotel. He was silent, head bowed, carrying the body of Yu Wenxuan.

Silence. A dead calm.

A terrifying killing intent radiated from him, and the ambient temperature seemed to plummet.

In an instant, the rowdy crowd fell deathly silent.

With every step he took, the crowd before him parted. No one dared to stand in his way.

"[Ding! Detected that the Sword Demon harbors a monstrous, undying hatred for the Host!]"

"When a Blood Demon rages, rivers of blood will flow!"

"Host, please immediately dispatch your disciple, the Empress, to slay the Sword Demon!"

A series of urgent system prompts rang out.

"?"

Hearing the prompts, a question mark seemed to materialize over Qin Yang’s head. ’This guy triggered another system prompt?’

’Well, I’ll be...’

’A second system prompt! Unbelievable!’

Once he was sure he hadn’t misheard, Qin Yang was ecstatic.

’If it means getting rewards, then the more, the merrier.’

’It looks like this Huyan Sword is going to clash with me again in the future, which must be why the system issued a second warning.’

At that thought, Qin Yang looked down at his phone. His gaze fell on Huyan Sword on the screen, and thinking about the recently deceased Grassland Sword Saint, everything clicked.

’The little punk obviously wants to avenge his master!’

’Take down the master, and the apprentice shows up...’

’This is what you call flipping the script.’

’Wait a minute...’

Qin Yang frowned. ’This plot feels a bit familiar, like I’ve seen it somewhere before.’

’Laying low to get stronger, then coming back for a sneak attack a hundred years later.’

Hiss—

Qin Yang drew a sharp breath as it suddenly hit him.

’It’s the whole "never bully a poor young man" trope!’

’Don’t tell me the next part of the plot is...’

’Thirty years the river flows east, thirty years the river flows west?’

Qin Yang rolled his eyes. Glancing at Huyan Sword on the screen, he thought, exasperated, ’Who do you think you are, some protagonist named Xiao?’

’So you like playing the long game? Enduring hardship to plot your revenge?’

’You want to level up on my watch?’

’Teaching a master his own craft!’

’Fine. If you want to play it that way, I’ll ’help’ you grow a little faster.’

Qin Yang let out a sinister cackle. As he watched Huyan Sword on the screen, a fully-formed plan instantly took shape in his mind.

"What’s on your mind, Old Qin? Why the evil smile?"

Just then, Xia He put down his phone. Seeing the smile on Qin Yang’s face sent a chill down his spine. "You’re smiling like a supervillain."

"It’s nothing," Qin Yang replied. "Just thought of something that makes me happy."

Qin Yang glanced at the time. There was still a while to go before the end of the workday, but he could hardly wait.

"Are you free after work, Old Qin?"

Xia He didn’t think much of it and said cheerfully, "I haven’t been to Platinum Han in ages. I’m in a great mood today, we have to celebrate!"

"I’m busy."

Qin Yang waved him off. "Gotta go home after work. No time. Maybe next time."

The classic three-part brush-off.

Xia He: "..."

...

...

「Time passed in a flash.」

「Midnight.」

Outside the Jianghai Hotel, a stretch Lincoln was parked by the curb. A door swung open, and Huyan Sword stepped out, clutching a funeral urn.

A cold, gloomy air hung over the street.

"Master, tomorrow I will take you home to the Grassland."

Huyan Sword murmured, caressing the exquisite, gilded urn as he walked slowly into the hotel.

The funeral home’s procedures were normally tedious, requiring appointments, paperwork, signatures... When Huyan Sword arrived, there were even two people ahead of him in line.

Under normal circumstances, it should have taken quite some time.

However, since the Grassland Sword Saint had died within their city, the higher-ups in Jianghai City, citing humanitarian reasons, gave Huyan Sword the green light and granted him special privileges to expedite the process.

Even so, everything was not completed until midnight.

Huyan Sword carried the urn into the hotel elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.

A sign hanging on the elevator wall caught his eye. The words "Jianghai Welcomes You" instantly stoked the fires of his rage.

"The day I return to Jianghai, everyone in this city will be buried alongside my master!"

Huyan Sword swore viciously, his face contorted like a madman’s. When the elevator doors opened, he strode quickly to Room One, placed the urn on the bed, and began to pack his clothes.

He didn’t want to stay in this heartbreaking place for a second longer.

The sooner he left, the better.

The Star Martial Police Bureau had already questioned him. When they learned he was leaving the next day, they could hardly wait to personally escort this little god of plague out of the city.

After all, both master and disciple were unstable time bombs.

Sending him away as soon as possible was the only way to be responsible for the safety of Jianghai’s citizens.

A moment later, Huyan Sword finished packing. He picked up his bag, then went to the bed and lifted the urn, preparing to turn and leave.

’I will return to avenge you.’

He clutched the urn, swearing a silent oath as he approached the door.

But just then, a draft of cold, sinister air blew in from the window.

’Huh? That’s strange...’

Huyan Sword froze.

’Is the window open?’

’Since when?’

’No, something’s wrong!’

In that instant, a dreadful premonition welled up from the depths of his heart. His sense of danger exploded, and he whipped his head around in alarm.

"Not good!"

SWISH!

A blade of icy light swept past, as gentle as a cool breeze.

It was impossible to dodge. The light pierced straight through his skull. A thin line of blood bloomed across his skin, and his life ended on the spot.

THUD!

Under the moonlight, the urn crashed to the floor.