Feng Bujue walked to stand before Hank. He seemed to wish to say something, but he did not launch straight into it, instead pausing to think about it. Hank was overwhelmed with fear, and he regarded this 'outsider' nervously. He could not even begin to fathom what was on the man's mind, and Feng Bujue's silence formed an invisible pressure around him.
After about thirty seconds, Feng Bujue took out the pistol from his inventory and asked, "Do you know what this is?"
Hank shook his head.
"This is a type of weapon popular in the twentieth to twenty-first century," Feng Bujue said. "You should understand the meaning of the term 'weapon', right?"
Hank nodded cautiously. "I do… but… what is a century?"
Feng Bujue thought to himself, Even the concept of century is lost… Looks like they're seriously enslaved.
His expression did not bely his thoughts. Instead, he said, "To put it another way, around four hundred to five hundred years ago, this was a weapon used by human beings."
"Why… are you telling me this?" Hank asked in a shaking voice.
"Mainly, I am hoping you would gain a basic understanding of this thing." Feng Bujue laughed coldly before using his finger to point at the barrel. "With a push of my finger, there will be something called a bullet flying out from here. Its speed is faster than the item propelled by the anti-gravity gun. Just imagine if I use that on a human…
"If I hit his head, the brain will explode; if I hit the body, his internal organs will shatter; if I hit his limbs, then the limbs will not only lose their mobility, but they will also bleed endlessly…"
He made ten different scary expressions, mimicking a madman who was struggling to control his desire to kill.
Expression was a form of international communication, one that crossed generation. Even thought there were a thousand years between them, they could read emotions on each other's faces easily, so Feng Bujue successfully spooked the other man.
At this point, he suddenly stopped talking about the gun. Instead, he asked, "How many people are there are your village?"
"Why… why are you asking about that?" Hank asked nervously.
"What? You don't want to tell me?" Feng Bujue smiled. "Are you afraid that I might use this weapon on them?"
This was a rhetorical question. First, he showed off a weapon that the man completely did not understand, and then he asked about the population at the village. Anyone would make that connection.
"Our… our village has 100,000 people!" Hank replied in a raised voice. It seemed like he had gathered quite a bit of courage to do so.
"Is that so? Haha…" Feng Bujue laughed lightly. He lifted the pistol and waved it before Hank's face. "Based on the auto-pilot, we will arrive at your village in another twenty minutes. Based on my observation, your village is naturally hostile against outsiders…
"If they attack us on sight… I have more than one thousand bullets in this gun here. Assuming my accuracy is about sixty to seventy percent, how many villagers would you say will die?"
Flashes of Sword almost slipped out of his seat, and he mocked internally, Jesus Christ, you sure know how to lie. A pistol with one thousand bullets? Where are you keeping them? A second-dimensional magazine? Furthermore, with the firing speed of the pistol, even if you do have one thousand bullets, can you fire continuously for that long? It'll take more than half an hour to fire one thousand bullets. Are the villagers going to line up for you to shoot at one by one?
"No… please, don't kill the villagers!" Hank begged. "We only have five thousand people…"
What, you believed him? Flashes of Sword gasped internally, but on the surface, he was unfazed. He kept his back to the other two and continued to daydream in his co-pilot seat.
"Okay, I can promise you to not kill anyone," Feng Bujue offered, "but you must cooperate with us."
"Sure… Sure… What do you need me to do?" Hank said as his whole body shook.
"Look, Hank." Feng Bujue's tone turned sincere and soft; he was playing both Good Cop and Bad Cop at the same time. "No matter the kind of prejudice you have against 'outsiders', you should have observed by now that my friend and I aren't the type who like to kill. Even though you shot at us with your weapon, we didn't kill you, did we?"
Hank nodded, but Flashes of Sword shook his head and sighed softly. "Even though we didn't kill him, someone kept threatening him…"
"We just want to take a look around your village, and then we will leave peacefully," Feng Bujue added. "Do not worry, this is not some kind of scouting. There is not going to be an 'army of outsiders' who will come attack your village later. The two of us are mere travelers. We want to see your village out of simple curiosity."
Hank believed his words somewhat. He did think the possibility of an 'army of outsiders' was low, but to say that these two were visiting his village out of curiosity, that was simply too hard to believe.
"But… your village is so ethnocentric and has such a deep misunderstanding against the humans outside of the village," Feng Bujue said as he studied Hank's expression. "Under normal circumstances, I believe anyone from your village would have killed us without any reason. There is no chance for communication to be formed at all.
"Once there is a physical altercation, I'm sure you can figure out the result." He raised his hand and used his thumb to point at Flashes of Sword behind him. "I can guarantee that using just his sword, my friend can kill at least one thousand of the villagers."
At this point, Flashes of Sword could not hold in his derision anymore. "Do you think we're playing a Warriors game?"
In any case, Hank did not grasp the refence. Feng Bujue continued regardless with a severe tone. "He means to say, killing one thousand villagers will be as simple as playing a game."
Hank was covered in cold sweat. When he heard that, he was reminded of how Flashes of Sword appeared before him like a ghost earlier. It made him believe even firmer the teaching of the village priest. Outsiders are all demons. They are strong, cunning, and very good at misdirecting humans. No matter how harmless, pitiful, or beautiful they look on the surface, do not hesitate to kill them. Do not give them any chance to speak.
"Believe me, I do not wish for that situation to happen." Feng Bujue patted Hank's shoulder. "As long as you follow my plan and bring us into the village, I promise not to harm anyone. My friend and I at most will stay at your village for a few hours, and then we'll leave. After that, you're free to do anything you want. You can summon the other villagers to come after us if you want."
He paused for two seconds to see the change in Hank's expression and immediately added, "I know you might not believe me, but you have put things into perspective. If you do not cooperate, how will thing turn out?"
Then, he turned, and a scoff escaped his lips. "There isn't much time left. If you think about this too long, the shark coach will arrive at the destination soon. By then… we will have to do what we are forced to do and cut our way through the village…"
