True Solution of the Sword Dao

"I was chasing the initial feeling when Angel died, and now, the Lord has guided me to find a new existence once again," Sis mumbled with his head lowered. Slowly, he stood up, facing Lin Fei.

"It is the Lord’s guidance and also Angel’s final redemption for me."

A hint of sorrow flashed through Lin Fei’s eyes. Angel represented the entirety of Sis’s perfect fantasy, but it wasn’t that Sis himself had a mental disorder, rather, it was his initial encounter with the fragile Annie that led to his mental problems. Because of her fragility, he couldn’t restrain himself, destroying his own perfect fantasy. The tarnished Angel was no longer his beloved, and he spent a long time wallowing in self-despair and low self-esteem. He watched Angel grow old and eventually die. Over and over, he would choose a new Angel each time. This had gone on for several centuries. He continually sought hope from despair, only to watch helplessly as hope turned into despair, struggling again and again within a self-spun cage. Centuries passed this way. A D-class powerhouse could live up to two hundred years, and a C-class could reach four hundred years. Moreover, Sis was actually a B-class.

Lin Fei drew his sword in a countermove, a flash of silver light.

"Tsch!"

Suddenly, a gash appeared on Sis’s chest. He stood still without dodging.

"Since everything is destined, I am willing to accompany you forever."

Lin Fei’s hand trembled, almost killing him on the spot. Goosebumps erupted all over his body. Although he wanted to kill him with one strike, the reality was that given the level difference between them, even if Sis was severely injured, he definitely couldn’t kill him.

"I’ll accompany you..." Okay, he caught himself before the rest came out. The creepy feeling intensified with Sis’s increasingly affectionate gaze.

Although he could understand the thoughts of this madman, it didn’t mean he was mad as well.

"I can actually understand the thoughts of a mentally ill person with a normal person’s thinking, it seems my IQ is indeed very high," Lin Fei told himself. He definitely wouldn’t admit that he might be a bit insane himself...

"Alright, it seems we should really talk. I said from the start, there’s no need for us to fight to the death," Lin Fei took a deep breath and said solemnly. According to the records, Sis must have, as usual, seen him as the new mental anchor. These kinds of things appeared every few decades. But this was the first time he encountered Sis treating a non-human as the object.

"I will follow your orders," Sis responded with a gentle smile. "Angel, no matter what your demands are, I will do my utmost to fulfill them."

"First of all, I am not called Angel," Lin Fei took another deep breath. Yan Shi had used memories from the depths of his own mind to create illusions that would affect him, and he had just resolved the root cause when this madman, Sis, popped up. He felt as cold as if he had suddenly been dropped into Siberia, his heart trembling.

"Then what is your name?" Sis asked gently.

Lin Fei got goosebumps once again. He was just about to answer, but out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly caught a glimpse of his reflection in the water, a figure slender and with features so delicate they were almost feminine.

"I... my name is Yan Fei," he gently touched his own face. He would use this as a code name for this face.

"Lord Yan Fei, I have a few tricks that might help if you are troubled by your angelic appearance. Perhaps these could be of use to you." Any words seemed to turn excessively sappy in Sis’s mouth.

Lin Fei got another round of goosebumps. He managed to squeeze out a smile.

"What tricks do you have?"

"Regarding disguises, they can be achieved through control of momentum. This can not only fulfill the purpose of disguising but also help with regular training," Sis answered respectfully.

*************

Three days later.....

Ping City Rainbow Hotel, top floor

A young man with a face that could barely be considered handsome sat in the president’s office, meditating on something. On the computer screen to his left, international news was playing.

A young man holding a microphone stood in the center of the screen, his background a black wasteland still emitting thin trails of black smoke. People from foreign countries moved around him, some carrying stretchers and others in white coats. The scene was evidently very busy.

"Hua Nation’s reporter in London reported: At 5 a.m. on November 27, a church on the outskirts of London suddenly exploded, killing 43 people on the spot, with no survivors. The specific cause of the explosion is still under further investigation...."

Then a burly foreign police officer with a large beard appeared in the middle of the screen.

"We are conducting a detailed investigation into the specific cause of this explosion. This major incident is preliminarily determined to have possibly been caused by the storage of industrial explosives. Of course, we do not rule out the possibility that it was the work of terrorists."

"From the 27th to the present, no terrorist organization has claimed responsibility for this incident. This is Chen Sheng, reporting live for you from London, England." The strong young man concluded the news report.

Thud, thud, thud!

"Come in," the man sitting in the office chair said loudly.

The door clicked open, and a tall middle-aged man in a white suit quickly stepped inside. "Shunyan is dead. And his sister Chris. Both died together."

"I’m watching."

"President, the real number of people who know your information, including myself, totals four in the society," the middle-aged man spoke softly.

"You, Xiaoling, Old Zhao, and Chen Chen? What about Yu Fei, An Ying, and Old Fei?"

"They have only seen you, but they do not have much information about your real family background. So, it appears that many people have seen you representing the society, but very few actually know the details about you. We have also arranged a new identity for you. Take a look." The middle-aged man handed over a document.

The man took it. His photo was clearly printed on the document.

Below were rows of personal information.

Yan Fei, male, 21 years old

Both parents deceased, raised by the Swordsmanship Master Yan Fengyang from childhood. Practiced swordsmanship since childhood, accidentally killed a man during a sword fight, which led to him joining Shueisha. Successfully killed the traitor Sun Chengbin from the Ping City branch, thereby being rated level F Peak. After repelling Shunyan, re-rated as level D Peak. Considered a key potential seed within the society.

Then there were some more subtle details which, compared to his real situation, even the man himself felt that this document looked much more realistic and much more logical.

"This is Lin Fei’s personal information," the middle-aged man handed over another document.

The photo on this document faintly resembled Yan Fei’s, but there were differences in temperament and appearance, especially in temperament. Lin Fei’s photo showed someone more reserved, clearly the silent type. In contrast, Yan Fei’s photo displayed typical confidence, with a very aggressive look in his eyes. In terms of details, Lin Fei appeared much more ordinary. Almost every facial feature had been slightly altered.

"Perfect information."

"Of course, our goal is to deceive the Religious Faction’s Tower of the Dark Night. As for the Temple of the Gods, if the heretics had not previously collected your information, there is also a good chance of deceiving them, but...." The middle-aged man left his sentence unfinished. But the implication was clear.

"I know, heretics and the Temple of the Gods naturally wouldn’t pay much attention to this level of detail. It seems I have potential, but having potential doesn’t mean having strength; too many geniuses die young. But I’m curious, how many geniuses of my level do the heretics and the Temple of the Gods have each year?"

"According to the estimates, there should be several hundred people for each. After all, they are organizations that span across the world. They all have their own recruitment systems, not just taking from the outside. It seems to be a clan system, a pureblood clan system."

"By that measure, I really don’t stand out," the young man said softly.

"I wouldn’t say that. On a global scale, there are only a few thousand people at your level each year. Reaching level D can extend one’s life to two hundred years. It’s not that simple."

"Okay, that’s it for all matters. It’s all up to you from here. I need to attend the college entrance exam; time is tight, and I probably won’t come by recently." The young man or rather the boy stood up.