Chapter 61
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Chapter 61: Ambush, I’m the Expert
"I never expected the demon slayers coming to my tavern this time to be such fools."
After chopping off Mu Lin’s head, Tavern Owner Fuyi lamented while preparing to take the body to the pig-headed vendor for sacrifice. But with a sharp "pfft," the headless corpse suddenly deflated like a punctured balloon.
Within moments, Mu Lin’s body shrank into a paper figure.
The abrupt transformation froze Tavern Owner Fuyi in shock.
As he stood stunned, the basement door crashed open with a thunderous "boom!"
The two waiters who had escorted Mu Lin to the tavern burst into the cellar, panic-stricken. Spotting their owner, they scrambled toward him like drowning men clutching at driftwood. "Boss! Th-the Qi Practitioners! They’re attacking again from outside!"
"What?!"
Though confused about when Mu Lin had been replaced by White Paper, Tavern Owner Fuyi grinned at this turn of events. "Fools reject heaven’s gate to storm hell’s maw!" he sneered. "Let’s finish them…"
"Pfft!"
Steel flashed as blade and sword lunged at him the moment he approached his "subordinates." Mu Lin, observing remotely, blinked in surprise when the tavern owner miraculously parried the knife strike at the last instant – though the sword still pierced his ribs.
"You treacherous curs!" roared the wounded owner.
"Treason?" mocked the false waiters. "You betrayed humanity first!"
Tavern Owner Fuyi’s eyes bulged as realization struck – these weren’t his men.
"Die, imposters!"
"Your turn, traitor!"
The two Yellow Turban Might warriors shed all pretense, their impervious bodies clashing against steel as the basement battle erupted.
Aboveground, another confrontation unfolded. While the real fight raged below, none noticed anything amiss with the "Tavern Owner Fuyi" patrolling the main hall.
During their earlier meal, while the real owner plotted ambush, Mu Lin hadn’t been idle. Using Grandmaster-level papercraft, he’d replicated both the waiter and tavern owner. Enhanced by master-level artistry, the paper figures perfectly mimicked their counterparts’ forms and faces.
When basement noises alarmed the remaining staff, the paper replica owner barked: "Halt! Rebels below!"
"But boss, the cellar-"
"Qi Practitioners’ last gasp!" the decoy snapped. "Stay put!" The false owner then singled out one waiter. "You – come here."
“Come here. I have a task for you. Do it well, and you’ll get first taste of those two Qi Practitioners’ flesh.”
“Gulp…”
At those words, the mutated waiter eagerly scampered after him.
This rendered Mu Lin’s prepared arguments unnecessary.
*So easy to trick. The mutation strengthened their bodies but dulled their minds.*
Keeping his composure, Mu Lin entered a room.
When the waiter followed, two burly men leaped out. One muffled the waiter’s cries while the other drove a blade into him.
“Thunk!”
“Mmph—!”
The waiter soon fell lifeless.
Instead of leaving, Tavern Owner Fuyi produced White Paper and swiftly folded it.
*Rustle…*
Within moments, a lifelike paper figure took shape. Mu Lin (the substitute) painted its face with quick strokes.
*Scritch-scratch…*
A miniature paper figure soon rested in the substitute’s hands. To perfect the disguise, Mu Lin smeared it with the dead waiter’s blood and inscribed his true name—he’d memorized every staff member’s name during their earlier conversation.
*Haa…*
A breath animated the figure. The “revived” waiter shuffled out, movements identical to the original.
Passing another waiter, he gestured casually: “Owner wants you. Go.”
“Why?”
“Just go.”
The replacement looked, smelled, and sounded exactly like before. The summoned waiter noticed nothing amiss.
Confused yet hopeful—puzzled by the summons but anticipating Qi Practitioner flesh—he entered the room.
“That female practitioner’s tender skin’ll taste best…”
*Mmmph! Thud!*
Yellow Turban Might silenced him mid-fantasy. Another blade found its mark.
Within moments, this waiter too became a paper puppet, luring the next victim.
*Mmph. Thud. Mmph. Thud.*
One by one, Mu Lin’s ambushes claimed every waiter. Then the accountant. The kitchen staff. Finally, the head chef.
Grandmaster-level paper folding, master-level artistry, and blood-inscribed true names fooled them all.
The head chef nearly escaped—even with a knife through his heart, the deeply mutated man kept struggling. But Mu Lin’s paper minions swarmed him, eight against one, until blades ended his resistance.
“Done,” Mu Lin exhaled. Not a soul remained unmimicked in Tavern Owner Fuyi’s Tavern.
