Xuanqing Guard

Chapter 349: Chapter 349: Ruses and Changes

But soon, Tan Bin and his crew discovered a problem: none of them could understand the howling language of the Wolf Race. They had taken a risk, but it looked like the effort would be wasted. Just then, Old Rat started fidgeting nearby, making nasally noises as if he wanted to speak.

"Take off his gag!"

They untied the rope around his mouth and finally let him spit out the stone jammed in there. Old Rat moved his jaw a couple of times and hurriedly said, "Liu, I—I know the Wolf Race language! If you swear not to kill me or harm me, I’ll translate for you!"

Old Rat was a sharp one. He realized Tan Bin’s trio were definitely not some ordinary mercs. They moved and talked like trained hardasses—not simple guys at all. And judging from how they sneaked out with the Slave Trade Association, they were definitely hiding their identities. For Old Rat, that was a life-threatening problem. If Tan Bin’s group left, would they really spare him? Not likely.

So when he realized Tan Bin and the others couldn’t speak Wolf Race tongue, Old Rat was thrilled, seeing his chance to survive.

"You know Wolf Race language?"

"Yeah, yeah! I started out as a translator, only later joined the hunting party. That guy just now... he was cursing the three of you."

Afraid Tan Bin wouldn’t believe him, Old Rat immediately started jabbering in that howling language. It sounded weird, but definitely not random gibberish, and the Wolf guys reacted for real—howling right back.

"What did he say?"

Old Rat curled his lips and replied, "He called us ’Kelongkong.’"

"What the hell is that?"

"Heh, it’s a bug from Barbarian Territory. Real disgusting, burrows in shit piles. The Barbarians don’t have many insults, and ’Kelongkong’ is one of their nastiest. Hey, Liu, can you loosen these ropes? Just a bit. My arms and legs are totally numb—I can’t feel anything."

Tan Bin signaled his partner to tie Old Rat up differently. After Old Rat seemed a bit more comfortable, Tan Bin said, "If you really can, help us translate then?"

"Swear not to kill me?"

"Alright." Tan Bin nodded without hesitation.

He agreed so quickly that Old Rat actually hesitated. He wanted more guarantees, but had no idea what would work or how to ask.

"Fifth Brother, if he doesn’t talk, take care of him. Do the same to a couple of the Wolf Race, keep one to bring back."

"Got it, Boss."

Fifth Brother grabbed his short knife and yanked Old Rat’s hair back, exposing his neck. About to slice, just like that.

"Wait, wait! I trust you! I trust you!"

Tan Bin laughed, pulled Old Rat up from the ground, and put him beside the Wolfman. "I’ll ask questions in a moment, you translate for me. He talks, you translate. Alright?"

"No problem, Liu. You can trust me, I’ll translate everything faithfully."

"Thanks in advance." Tan Bin smiled amiably at Old Rat, then shot Fifth Brother a look. The two resumed interrogating the Wolf Race captive.

After more than half an hour, Fifth Brother wiped the blood off his hands, re-applied the scent-masking ointment, and now all the questions had been asked—it was time to hit the road again.

The horses had rested most of an hour, recovered well, ate some grass, drank water—could walk a few more steps, though still not ready to ride. They loaded the packs back onto the horses, then fast-walked, letting the animals regain more strength.

"Boss, should we bury the bodies?"

"Nah, there are plenty of wild wolves around here. Good food for them—no need to waste our time. Let’s move."

"Right."

The extra corpses were tossed away like dirty rags. Far off, wolves had already smelled the blood. Their green eyes glinted in the darkness, watching. As soon as Tan Bin left, these wolves rushed in. They didn’t care if the Wolf Race was edible—hungry enough, even kin becomes chow. That’s why they’re called beasts.

With the crunching, chewing, and low snarls echoing behind, Tan Bin’s crew—dragging Old Rat and the two remaining Wolfmen—headed north.

On the way, Old Rat was no longer trussed up like a dumpling. He could sit on horseback, but his hands were still tied behind his back, with a rope around his neck—the other end looped to Fifth Brother’s wrist.

Compared to the Wolfmen, bound like dumplings with their mouths gagged on the neighboring horses, Old Rat’s treatment was far better. But the nicer it got, the colder he felt inside.

Just a while ago, he’d witnessed a textbook interrogation. They’d squeezed a tough-looking Wolfman into a whimpering puddle, forced every last bit of information out of him. But the poor bastard didn’t survive. Or maybe, as Old Rat thought, "finally got some relief."

In the Slave Trade Association, there were folks who enjoyed torturing Barbarians—hell, some even found it fun. But that was rare. Normal people just killed quickly; torture was dirty business, beneath them. But after seeing Fifth Brother’s handiwork, Old Rat finally understood what "professional" meant.

He muttered to himself: Are these guys Imperial Army, or some other shadowy Scouts?

The more he guessed, the more uneasy he felt. Should he look for a chance to escape, or was his fate already sealed?

Talking "promises" with Scouts—what kind of joke is that? These guys are so ruthless they’d even risk their own lives, let alone stick to their word. What, am I dreaming?

Whatever Old Rat was worrying about, Tan Bin didn’t care. He hadn’t decided whether to kill Old Rat, let him go, or do something else. Right now, his mind was filled with the intel he’d squeezed from the Wolfman’s mouth.

As they moved north, Tan Bin kept calculating their next move.

After another couple of hours, Tan Bin called a halt. Time to rest again.

"Based on the intel we got, I have an idea. Fourth Brother, you also carry a Thousand-Mile Sound token. You take today’s intel and head back; no need to cross the border. Once you’re within range of the Thousand-Mile Sound, send the report home.

Me and Fifth Brother will take Old Rat and keep detouring south. After we cross White Head Gorge, I want to try going deeper in, get more intel."

Tan Bin led the crew, and his instructions were basically orders for the three-man squad. Unless the orders were obviously bad or dangerously uncertain, Fourth Brother and Fifth Brother wouldn’t dispute him.

"What about the last two Wolfmen? Should I bring them?" Fourth Brother glanced at the pair lying on the ground, a flicker of killing intent in his eyes.

"No way. Tonight, interrogate them thoroughly, then get rid of them. Tomorrow morning, we go in light."

"Alright. After I report in, I’ll rendezvous with you near Wu Lake—is that okay?"

"Works. Stay sharp."

With the plan settled, the temporary camp was soon filled again with the Wolfmen’s screams...