Don't Mess With Me

"These people won't learn unless you show them you're not to be trifled with," Kaguya said with a cold snort, looking down at the middle-aged man beneath her. "Only by instilling fear will they lose any thoughts of taking advantage."

For some reason, seeing Kaguya's cold and commanding demeanor made Qiao Xiaoqing feel as if she were a stranger, someone from another world. It was true: with such superhuman powers, how could she be ordinary?

A sense of loss washed over Qiao Xiaoqing. Did this mean they were from different worlds after all?

Kaguya didn't notice Qiao Xiaoqing's expression as she kicked the man beneath her and asked, "Hey, are you dead? If you're alive, make a sound."

The man under her foot remained motionless. Kaguya kicked him a few more times, but he lay there like a dead pig, completely unresponsive.

"Could he be dead?" Kaguya muttered, her lips twitching.

The middle-aged man had been struggling constantly, muttering something. Growing impatient, Kaguya had simply pushed his face into the mud. He had struggled for a while and then gone still, which she assumed meant he had exhausted himself. Now, it seemed that wasn't the case.

The middle-aged man's earlier struggles were not attempts to resist. Instead, his face had been buried in the dirt, cutting off his air supply.

Kaguya kicked the man over, flipping him onto his back. His face was bright red, with hints of purple, showing signs of asphyxiation.

This was quite awkward.

Kaguya extended her hand, channeling chakra into her palm. A water ball the size of a soccer ball appeared, which she lightly tossed onto the man's head.

The man shuddered violently, sitting up abruptly and coughing harshly, gasping for air. It seemed he had been suffocating earlier, and it took him a while to recover.

"No matter how much you torture me, I won't submit," the man shouted defiantly at Kaguya.

"Oh? You seem quite stubborn," Kaguya snorted coldly. "But weren't you the ones who attacked first without reason?"

"That was to prevent you from harming others," the man defended himself.

"And that's your reason for attacking me?" Kaguya retorted with a sneer.

The man knew his argument was weak and stammered without a proper reply.

"Enough, I don't want to waste words on you," Kaguya waved her hand dismissively. "I'll overlook this incident, but I expect you not to disturb me again."

"But you've killed so many, and that's a fact," the man said as he stood up, his voice steady.

Kaguya's eyebrows furrowed slightly, and her face turned cold, a flash of icy light flickering in her eyes. "Remember, you attacked first. I was merely defending myself. I don't wish for trouble, but if you refuse to be sensible, don't blame me for being ruthless."

Kaguya's words were like icy blades, chilling to the bone, her murderous intent unmistakable and palpable.

The middle-aged man was startled by the force of her killing intent, as if he were in the presence of a prehistoric beast, paralyzed with fear, cold sweat streaming down his back. Was she truly some kind of demon?

The chilling aura surrounding Kaguya retracted as she let out a cold snort, her beautiful face frosty and stern. "This time, I'll let you go. But if you disturb me again, it won't be this simple."

The middle-aged man had resigned himself to death, but unexpectedly, he found himself spared. Clenching his fists, he gritted his teeth and turned to leave. He vowed to make her pay, even if it cost him his life, to avenge his fallen comrades.

But as he turned to leave, a casual remark from behind rooted him in place, as if frozen.

"Carry your people out of here. Some can still be saved now; later, I can't guarantee. And clean up; don't leave my yard dirty."

The middle-aged man's body trembled, his eyes lighting up with joy. He turned to see nothing but the fading figure of a stunning silhouette walking back into the villa.

"Call the medics, quick!" the man shouted into his phone, his voice hoarse and unable to suppress his excitement. The usually stoic man's eyes glistened with tears.

Lowering his phone, he turned back, finding no trace of the two girls. Mixed emotions churned within him. In truth, the silver-haired girl hadn't done anything wrong. After all, he was the one who attacked first. Even if he had died at her hands, it wouldn't have been unjust.

But what he cared about were his comrades, many of whom he had personally trained and formed deep bonds with. His mistaken command had led to their downfall, and he didn't know how he could face the parents who entrusted their children to him.

The middle-aged man took a deep breath. Had he grown old? he laughed at himself for his foolish arrogance in challenging such an opponent. Her power, so overwhelming that she could control life and death at will, sent chills down his spine.

He cast one last look at the villa before dragging his weary body away.

The incident was too shocking, beyond his control. All he could do was report everything he knew to his superiors. What happened next was up to them to decide.