Chen Ai's words came pouring like a bucket of ice water over the slave owner. The slave owner froze, all the hair on his back standing on end--he was completely seen through. Along with that, he also realized another fact: that he was no match for Chen Ai.

"What the hell are you pretending now?" Bucktooth couldn't care less, his brain simple, knowing only that his things had been stolen right in front of him and that he was being looked down upon.

The mercenaries burst out in wild fury, regardless of the consequences.

"Shing!"

Bucktooth drew his knife, pointed it threateningly at Chen Ai and roared, "Drop her! Or I'll split you open with one stroke!"

Chen Ai smiled mockingly, "Dear guest, in my place only the chef is allowed to draw a knife. If you are not a chef, I advise you to put the knife away. A knife is a dangerous tool. If a child plays with it and accidentally hurts himself, that wouldn't be good."

"You dare to call me a child?" A murderous glint, visible in Bucktooth's eyes, he lifted his knife high and aimed it at Chen Ai's face. The two were at a close distance, Bucktooth's swift and fierce stroke was enough to topple the seemingly weak young man onto the ground.

Just as the blade was about to fall onto Chen Ai, Chen Ai moved. In a blink, Chen Ai flicked his hand, and Bucktooth felt a strong force on his own hand. Under the pull of that force, the direction of his knife was reversed and with a 'shing' inserted itself back into the scabbard.

Bucktooth looked dumbstruck, seemingly unaware of what had happened, whereas Chen Ai was looking at him with a teasing smile.

Chen Ai was holding a young girl with one hand, while the other with a finger placed accurately on his knife handle, "As I said, no drawing of a knife in my place."

Bucktooth was taken aback and quickly retreated, drawing his knife once again. Chen Ai, with measured steps, stayed close to Bucktooth. Just as Bucktooth had pulled his knife out a few inches, Chen Ai pushed it back into its sheath.

Bucktooth swiftly turned around, using his body to block Chen Ai's hand and attempted to draw his knife once again. But before he could do so, Chen Ai had already circled to the other side, lightly slapping his finger on the scabbard.

"Go back!"

"Whoosh!" The knife obediently returned to its sheath.

No matter how much Bucktooth was twisting and turning, or changing his position, he was unable to draw his knife. Chen Ai was shadowing him like a ghost with the agility of a swimming fish; his finger could always suppress Bucktooth's knife-drawing attempts.

Before long, Bucktooth was panting heavily, whereas Chen Ai was as leisurely as if he were on a stroll, looking completely relaxed.

From a bystander's perspective, the pair moving back and forth, with the knife at the center, circling around the courtyard, looked like a comedic stage play in progress. However, the slave owner, who was the sole audience, could not laugh. He has traveled north and south, has seen a lot, and has met a lot of famous swordsmen and knife-wielding fighters with sophisticated techniques.

Those who make a move exhibit different styles, some with a courage as furious as a roaring wind, vigorously attacking until the opponent is utterly crushed. Some are sharp as lightning in the clouds, not making a move until necessary, and when they do, a stroke seals the opponent's throat. Some are tough as a rock, facing enemies ten times as many as themselves, yet not taking a single scratch.

Even though every move and style are different, they are all breath-taking.

In contrast, Chen Ai's actions were neither flashy nor free-spirited, but more like a street performer playing monkey, not impressive to the common man.

However, having seen too much, the slave owner had trained a pair of sharp eyes and could see the subtlety-Chen Ai had only used one finger in his contest with Bucktooth so far.

Chen Ai wasn't serious at all; he was just "playing." His actions seemed like a cat toying with a mouse, with Bucktooth's every move being seen through by Chen Ai. He treated Bucktooth like a plaything while he walked leisurely.

Such terrifying control was like balancing a leaf on the tip of a finger, and yet this leaf was struggling non-stop.

This level of control was something not even the famous warriors in his mind could possibly achieve, let alone while Chen Ai was holding a person!

The young man's real capability before his eyes was unfathomable!

The slave owner believed that as long as this young man wanted Bucktooth dead, Bucktooth wouldn't live until his next breath. He was sincerely relieved that he had not moved just now.

Bucktooth was becoming more and more desperate. He had exhausted all his tricks yet failed to draw his knife. In his desperation, Bucktooth lifted his foot and swept it sideways, determined to force Chen Ai to retreat.Chen Ai adroitly sidestepped the incoming kick. Distance was finally put between the two.

Buckteeth took advantage of the moment with an ecstatic effort to draw his knife.

However, the moment he endeavored to unsheath his weapon, Chen Ai lightly tripped him up, and guided with his arm slightly. Buckteeth was immediately pulled by a slight force, not too strong, but it perfectly seized the moment when he was off-balance.

Buckteeth lost his balance, falling forward. As he fell, the blade he was in the process of unsheathing pointed directly at his throat.

Buckteeth turned deathly pale, but suspended in midair, he was powerless, forced to watch in horror as he fell to the ground with his throat landing on his partially drawn blade.

"Ah-ah-ah, I'm dying! I'm going to die!" cried Buckteeth, terrified. He dropped the blade, clutching his throat in pain and rolling around on the ground as if he could already hear his arterial blood spurting out.

After lying on the ground and howling for quite some time, Buckteeth realized that his hand was free of any blood. On closer inspection, he found his throat intact, without the slightest injury.

"Here’s the consequence of ignoring people’s advice," Chen Ai chimed in jest, "it’s fortunately the back of the knife you landed on. If you'd hit the blade, you might have made history as the first mercenary to die from a flat fall."

Chen Ai, laughing merrily, made his way to the door holding the young girl. As they were walking away, Chen Ai turned back around: "Oh, and you might want to hurry home to change your trousers, our establishment doesn't cater to those who are not appropriately attired."

Hearing this, Buckteeth looked down and found his pants indeed soaked, accompanied with the pungent smell of urine. It turned out that the recent close brush with death had scared him into wetting his pants.

With his face turning beet red, Buckteeth glared venomously at Chen Ai. Not only had the man in front of him ruined his plan, but now he had also made him a laughingstock.

"I'll kill you!" cried Buckteeth, eyes blazing with fury, lunging at Chen Ai with all the ferocity of a wild animal.

"Goddamn it! Wouldn't come here with those wet trousers!" shouted Chen Ai, not urged to having any physical contact with the foul-smelling man.

Ducking, turning and kicking—"Bang!"

Chen Ai landed a clear roundhouse kick to Buckteeth's chest plate, sending him screaming in pain and flying out of the Blaze Hotel in a graceful arc.

"Bang!" Buckteeth landed hard among flowers at the entrance to Greenfields, rolling on the ground for some distance before finally stopping. Amazingly, he stayed conscious.

Despite this, Buckteeth was left grimacing in pain, thorny roses in the flowerbed have pierced numerous tiny holes in him. His arms and legs were all covered in prickles and wounds.

"I, I won’t let you off!" Buckteeth groaned for a while, climbed out of the flower bed, and stubbornly headed toward Chen Ai while clutching his waist.

This time, even the slave master couldn’t help but feel a bit of sympathy. Chen Ai had spared Buckteeth’s life several times, yet Buckteeth was still relentlessly attacking him.

However, Chen Ai remained unfazed. Silent for a moment, he looked at Buckteeth with concern, “I don't mind continuing to play with you, it's good to stretch my muscles from time to time -- but if we continue to delay, I am afraid your life might be in danger.”

Buckteeth paused at these words. Was this some kind of joke?

"Do you feel a little itchy?" Chen Ai squinted and asked.

Feeling it, Buckteeth found that there was indeed an itch where he had been pricked by the thorns.

"Are the wounds turning purple?" Chen Ai continued.

Buckteeth rolled up his sleeve and, to his horror, saw that just like Chen Ai said, the skin around the puncture wounds on his arm had swollen and turned purplish, looking truly horrific.

Visibly startled, Buckteeth seemed lost.

With a grave look on his face, Chen Ai looked at Buckteeth like he was a dead man: "Those aren't ordinary thorns, they belong to the ruthless and villainous Michelle, the owner of Greenfields. They are lethal thorns -- Death’s Thorn. They're highly poisonous! If you're pricked by them, your wounds would turn purple, and your body itches. You would feel increasingly itchy and instinctively scratch, the more you itch, the more you scratch, and the more you scratch, the itchier you get, until you scratch off your skin"

Chen Ai sighed, "If you don't receive treatment immediately, this time next year will probably be the anniversary of your death."Chen Ai's tone was very serious, there was no hint of a joke.

The sight of it greatly startled Buckteeth, his rage evaporating suddenly. After all, life was the most important thing. He stammered anxiously, "I...I'll go find a doctor."

Chen Ai shook his head, "If a doctor could really help, this wouldn't be called a death thorn. At least in Helan City, I don't know of any doctor who can treat it."

"Then I'll go find the priest!" Buckteeth spun around frantically, running in the opposite direction.

"The priest of Helan City, as far as I remember, has only reached the peak of the second level, he can't detoxify the death thorn's poison."

Terrified, Buckteeth wailed in despair, "Then what should I do? Am I just waiting to die? I have elderly parents and young children to support..."

"I did hear of a solution during my travels," Chen Ai said with a mischievous smile, "but..."

"Tell me quickly!" Buckteeth asked anxiously. He was feeling increasingly itchy, struggling to resist scratching the wound.

"All right," Chen Ai shrugged, "There is a place in the southern tropical rainforest called Lazes. The death thorn is common there. When a local is pricked by a death thorn, they would find a large tree called the Qingwen tree to help heal. This tree can absorb the poison of the death thorn, so every household in Lazes has a Qingwen tree. Your only chance of survival now is to find a Qingwen tree."

"So where can I find this Qingwen tree?" On hearing that there might be a solution, Buckteeth asked, filled with relief.

"Unfortunately, Qingwen trees are mostly in the south and rare in the north." Chen Ai stroked his chin, then with a snap of his fingers he exclaimed excitedly, "Got it! There is a Qingwen tree right in the middle of the eastern city square of Helan City!"

"So..." Buckteeth blinked his eyes.

Chen Ai laughed confidently, "Yes, you go to that tree in the city’s eastern square… and rub your bare body on it!”