bookbashuk Chapter 108 Cleansing the Filth: The Hunt's Finale
Chapter 108 Cleansing the Filth: The Hunt's Finale
Like a silent plague, the root-eating beetle spread wildly underground. In just one month, the entire Golden Triangle region, regardless of the size of the drug lord's control over poppy fields, suffered utter devastation. The once vibrant flowers of evil, swaying gracefully in the wind, withered, turned black, and collapsed in vast swathes, their roots devoured, leaving behind a scene of utter devastation. Panic, like miasma, permeated all those who relied on the opium economy for survival.
Lin Yan had been working tirelessly for the past month, hiding during the day and working at night. Every nightfall, he would transform into a vengeful ghost, specifically hunting down Kun Tai's trusted key figures: the head in charge of planting management, the captain in charge of the armed forces, the brokers who liaised with exports... He was swift and decisive, often leaving only a cold corpse and endless fear at the scene.
Kuntai was driven almost insane. He dared not sleep in his old residence at night, and could only hide in the heavily guarded weapons depot, barely able to close his eyes for a few moments while clutching the guns. His men were in a state of panic, none of them knowing if they would be next. Kuntai couldn't understand why the mysterious assassin, who had countless opportunities to take his life, had spared him. This cat-and-mouse game filled him with deep humiliation and unease.
With the complete destruction of the poppy fields, the last shred of hope for all the drug lords in the Golden Triangle was shattered. Their source of wealth was abruptly severed, and immense fear and despair began to fester.
Lin Yan felt the time was right. His goal was not only to destroy the poppies, but also to eradicate most of the scourges on this land. He began the second, even bloodier, purge—the decapitation operation.
Thanks to a month of intelligence gathering, he had a thorough understanding of the distribution, leaders' habits, camp layouts, and security forces of dozens of drug lord factions in the Golden Triangle region. He was no longer hunting aimlessly, but had a clear plan and objectives.
He learned from his previous ambush. Before each operation, he would use his exceptional stealth skills to infiltrate the core of the target's lair, prioritizing the silent elimination of the leader and his closest bodyguards. Only then would he deliberately create some noise—perhaps breaking a lamp or detonating a grenade—to attract the armed personnel in the camp.
"Come on, let's use you as practice!" Lin Yan thought to himself.
This became his testing ground for the results of his arduous training. Since his last injury, he spent most of his daytime hours in the space, receiving brutal instruction from a Golden Core cultivator known for his speed, honing his movement techniques, footwork, and instantaneous bursts of speed and evasion.
At this moment, facing the onslaught of bullets, he unleashed his full potential in agility.
He darted swiftly among the makeshift bamboo houses, wooden crates, and vehicle wreckage, his figure shifting and unpredictable like a ghost. His speed far exceeded the limits of human vision; often, just as the enemy aimed at his previous position and the bullet missed, he had already appeared at another tricky angle.
"Over there! Fire!"
"Wow! He's so fast!"
"Grenade! Throw a grenade!"
The militants opened fire wildly, bullets sending wood chips and dust flying, but they couldn't even touch Lin Yan's clothes. He no longer relied entirely on his sight, but began to cultivate the "early warning sense" honed in the face of life and death, using subtle perceptions of killing intent, air currents, and sounds to anticipate the source of danger and dodge accordingly.
The dagger in his hand transformed into an invitation to death. Each flash of close combat inevitably brought a spray of blood, precisely slicing open the enemy's throat or piercing their heart. He no longer wasted spiritual energy on large-scale defense, but instead concentrated his star-like killing intent on his vital points and the blade of his dagger, seeking the fastest speed and the highest efficiency.
Screams, gunshots, and explosions echoed throughout the drug lords' camps. Lin Yan, like a tireless killing machine, efficiently eliminated target after target. In just half a month, more than 70% of the drug lord forces in the Golden Triangle region were eradicated, their leaders killed, and their armed forces scattered.
After clearing out each den, Lin Yan would ruthlessly sweep away all its accumulated wealth—boxes of US dollars, gold bars, jewelry, and finished opium products that had not yet been shipped out—and store it in his storage ring.
"This is my hard-earned money from working so hard." Looking at the mountain of cash and gold piled up in the ring, Lin Yan rarely showed a slightly roguish smile. This windfall, compared to what Lin Yi and the others had obtained through financial market operations, gave him a more solid sense of security from personally seizing it. This was the first pot of gold he had truly earned "himself" since his transmigration.
Of course, there were also forces with a keen sense of smell, sensing the danger, who, as soon as the poppy fields began to wither on a large scale, packed up their valuables and fled with their core subordinates, escaping to neighboring countries or deeper into the dense forests. Lin Yan didn't have the energy to deal with these small fry for the time being; his main target remained Kun Tai.
At this moment, Kuntai was at his wit's end. His men, who had initially numbered several hundred, had dwindled to less than a hundred, and everyone was living in fear, morale was low. The opium was gone, his source of wealth was cut off, and a killer was watching him day and night. He knew he couldn't wait any longer.
Lin Yan began his final plan—a psychological offensive. He no longer concealed himself, launching direct assaults on Kuntai's core stronghold every night. Like a tiger charging into a flock of sheep, he wielded two pistols with unparalleled marksmanship, each shot falling a man. Simultaneously, he employed ghostly movements, weaving through the crowd and engaging in close-quarters combat with daggers.
But each time he would kill only about twenty people, he would deliberately show a hint of "fatigue," slowing his movements and breathing more heavily. Then he would utter a few harsh words, turn around, and quickly disappear into the night, as if he had retreated due to exhaustion.
This continued for several nights in a row. Kuntai finally broke down and completely believed that the other party was toying with him and would eventually kill him. He could no longer endure the torment of waiting for death.
"Go! Go now! Load all the money and goods you can take onto the truck! We're leaving this hellhole!" Kuntai roared hoarsely.
Late at night, a truck loaded with the last of their wealth and more than twenty remaining soldiers hurriedly drove away from the village, fleeing in what they considered a safe direction.
Lin Yan watched all of this coldly from the darkness.
The truck bumped and jolted along the rugged mountain road, and Kuntai and his men inside were still shaken. However, just as they rounded a secluded bend, the headlights suddenly illuminated a figure standing in the middle of the road ahead, holding a rifle—it was none other than that nightmarish killer!
"Stop the car! Run it over!" Kuntai shouted in terror.
But it was too late.
"Bang! Bang!"
Two precise bursts of fire. The front tires shattered instantly, a spray of blood erupted from the driver's head, the vehicle went out of control, crashed violently into the mountainside beside the road, and stalled.
"Get out of the truck! Fight him!" Kun Tai, his eyes bloodshot, and his men grabbed their weapons and charged off the truck, firing wildly in the direction Lin Yan was.
Bullets rained down, but only shattered the silence of the night. Lin Yan's figure was no longer there.
Like a cheetah in the jungle, he moved at high speed, using the dense forest and terrain along the roadside as cover. He holstered his rifle and drew his dagger. Tonight, he would test his close-quarters hunting skills.
In the darkness, his vision, hearing, and perception were heightened to their limits. He could clearly see the muzzle flashes of enemy guns, hear their heavy breathing and fearful heartbeats. Like a ghost, he silently crept up behind a lone enemy, and with a flash of his dagger, a man fell to the ground without a sound.
"He's over there!"
"Ah! Help me!"
"He's a devil! He's a devil!"
Screams rang out one after another, and Kuntai's men fell one by one. They fired wildly towards the source of the sound, but could only hit thin air or the corpses of their comrades. Fear completely engulfed these desperate men.
Finally, when only five trembling henchmen remained by his side, Kuntai's mental defenses completely collapsed. He screamed at the top of his lungs into the dark jungle, "Heroes! Spare us! The money and goods in the truck are all yours! Just let us live! We promise to leave the Golden Triangle immediately and never come back!"
There was a moment of silence in the woods, followed by a cold and brief voice:
OK.
Kuntai felt as if he had been granted a pardon and was almost exhausted. Without the slightest hesitation, he immediately took his last five men, abandoned all weapons and trucks, and fled in panic towards the Mekong River, hoping to escape this hell as soon as possible.
Lin Yan slowly emerged from the woods, watching them disappear into the darkness. He walked to the truck, scanned it with his divine sense, and stored all the gold, US dollars, and the dozen or so boxes of opium inside into his spatial storage.
"My spoils," he muttered to himself.
He then took out an invisibility talisman and affixed it to his body, ascending into the air on his sword and hovering far behind Kun Tai and his six men. At the same time, he flicked his fingertips, and six divine sense imprints accurately struck Kun Tai and his subordinates.
"Death is inevitable. But for now, you're still somewhat useful," Lin Yan said coldly. Letting these frightened birds escape and spread their experiences of "the land being cursed" and "encountering a mysterious killing god" would be more effective in deterring any restless newcomers than simply killing them. Once their usefulness was exhausted, someone would naturally send them on their way.