Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)-Chapter 545: I am collecting debts

The others reached for the chem lights they carried, squeezing them to activate the glow before tossing them into the warehouse. The space was gradually illuminated, the cool air a stark contrast to the oppressive heat above. The chill was a welcome relief, the stillness of the room almost eerie in its tranquillity.

Xiang Yu stepped forward, his smirk still in place as he surveyed the space. "Well?" he said, his tone light and teasing. "What do you think?"

As Han Xin stepped further inside, the echoes of his boots hitting the concrete floor faded into an eerie stillness. The cool air clung to the space, heavy with the scent of dust and metal. Old rusted pipes lined the walls, twisting like skeletal fingers through the shadows.

But what drew his attention most was the scattered crates stacked neatly. Their surfaces were dusted with age, yet they looked untouched, almost pristine. Each crate bore stencilled letters and numbers, a testament to meticulous planning put into this.

Some were marked with caution tape, warning of their contents including ammunition, firearms, and supplies. It was a treasure trove in a world that was plunged in desperation and violence.

Han Zhan’s voice broke the silence, his tone a mix of awe and disbelief. "What kind of small city is this? First a bunker, now a warehouse full of weapons?"

Han Xin didn’t respond immediately, his gaze scanning the crates with the same curiosity. He wondered the same thing. Who had the foresight to stockpile this much in such an unassuming location?

Xiang Yu stepped forward, his smirk still in place as he answered, "It’s because they knew what was coming. Unfortunately, they didn’t know when."

He approached one of the crates, his movements deliberate as he knelt to examine the index attached to its side. The handwritten notes detailed the differences between models: assault rifles, handguns, and even older relics from a bygone era. Xiang Yu’s fingers brushed over the words, his focus sharp as he selected a crate labelled "M4A1." With a practised ease, he pried it open.

Inside, nestled in foam padding, was a sleek assault rifle. Its surface gleamed with a perfectly oiled finish, a beauty born of practicality and deadly precision. Xiang Yu pulled it from the crate, the weight of the weapon settling comfortably in his hands. He inspected it meticulously, his fingers moving with a fluidity that betrayed his familiarity.

He checked the safety, examined the magazine well, and ensured it was in prime condition. The entire time, he didn’t notice Han Xin’s gaze, fixed on every movement of his fingers. It was alluring to watch, the way Xiang Yu handled the weapon with such confidence and precision.

Han Zhan broke the moment, his voice dry but appreciative. "Well, they were prepared, at least."

Su Jing, standing a few steps back, didn’t share the sentiment. Her tone was sharp, laced with annoyance. "Does any of this shit even work?"

Xiang Yu didn’t look up, his attention still on the rifle in his hands. With a practised motion, he loaded a magazine and chambered a round.

The sharp ’click’ echoed in the silence, answering Su Jing’s question without words. He raised the weapon, aiming it at an empty spot on the wall, his posture steady and confident.

He aimed the rifle at her with a playful smirk, his tone light but edged with mischief. "Do you want to test it out?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Han Zhan stepped forward, his hands raised in a gesture of caution. "Wo, wo, let’s not do that," he said, his voice tight with apprehension. Su Jing knew he wouldn’t dare pull the trigger but she was still a little shaken.

Xiang Yu chuckled, lowering the rifle as Han Xin approached. Without a word, Han Xin touched the barrel of the gun, his gaze steady but firm. Xiang Yu obeyed without hesitation, setting the weapon down with a small shrug.

He turned toward a display mounted against the far wall, his attention shifting to the array of sidearms showcased there. There were Glocks, Berettas, and a pair of old revolvers that seemed almost out of place.

Xiang Yu stepped closer, brushing his fingers lightly over the handles of the pistols. His touch was almost reverent, his smirk softening as he examined the collection.

Behind him, the others busied themselves with opening the rest of the crates, the sound of metal and wood scraping against each other filling the air.

Xiang Yu glanced over his shoulder at Han Xin, his tone matter-of-fact. "Should be enough arsenal," he said, his smirk returning as he added, "don’t you think so?"

Han Xin didn’t respond immediately, his gaze sweeping over the warehouse. "Hopefully," he said finally, his voice calm but carrying a hint of satisfaction.

Xiang Yu walked over to him, his steps casual but deliberate. Without warning, he smacked Han Xin’s butt, his hand lingering for a moment as he groped playfully.

Han Xin was so startled that his mouth fell open, his usually composed expression replaced with one of utter surprise.

Xiang Yu grinned, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You owe me," he said, his tone teasing but light. "I am just collecting debts."

Before Han Xin could respond, Xiang Yu turned to leave, his movements fluid and unhurried. "I am going back to take a nap," he called over his shoulder, his voice carrying a hint of mock reproach. "I woke up too early to punish my disrespectful husband."

Han Xin stood frozen for a moment, his lips parting as if to say something, but no words came out. He watched Xiang Yu’s figure disappear into the shadows, his steps nonchalant and casual as if he hadn’t a care in the world. When Xiang Yu was gone, Han Xin looked away, only to meet Han Zhan’s gaze.

"What?" Han Xin asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

Han Zhan quickly looked away, his expression neutral but his eyes betraying a flicker of amusement. "Nothing nothing," he said, his voice flat.

AN: No upload today. I had a doctor’s appointment. See you all tomorrow. Love ya’ll.