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Chapter 125 - Chapter 125: Distorted Thoughts

"You two, what's up?"

Seventeen or eighteen rough-looking men jumped down from the carriage, each wielding a long knife or a wooden club. Their expressions were grim, and malicious smirks tugged at their lips. As their eyes darted back and forth between Logan and Terumi Mei, lust overflowed from their gazes—especially when they stared at Terumi Mei, like wolves sizing up prey.

Just then, as the three carriages ground to a halt, another group of thirty or forty people stumbled up behind them. These newcomers were bound by ropes at the wrists and linked together in chains, strung up like cargo behind the carriages.

Logan remained seated atop his horse, his expression calm and unreadable. But Terumi Mei, who had known him long enough, could sense the storm of rage brewing quietly beneath his composed surface.

"These," Logan said coldly, pointing first at a bloodied woman whose forehead was split open, then at the rest of the bound men and women. His voice was serious, low, and chilling.

"Is this the 'fairness' you think you're fighting for?"

The shirtless bandit who had been yanking the bloodied woman's hair snapped. He had already been overwhelmed by lust, and now that Logan had interrupted him, his desire had turned into unfiltered rage.

Drawing a hatchet from his belt, he hurled it at Logan with a roar:

"Kid! Didn't your parents teach you not to answer a question with another question?!"

The hatchet spun furiously through the air, buzzing like a saw as it sliced toward its target.

The bandits looked on with bloodthirsty excitement, already imagining the axe lodging itself in Logan's skull. They could practically taste the thrill of dominating Terumi Mei afterward.

But then—

Boom!

The axe froze in midair, then dropped to the earth like a comet, burying itself in the ground with a thunderous crack. The ground trembled beneath their feet, knocking several bandits off balance.

A few drops of scalding liquid splattered their faces. Startled, they reached up and felt blood. They turned in alarm to see the shirtless bandit still standing—only now he was missing an arm at the shoulder, blood gushing like a fountain from the torn socket.

The axe he had thrown was now embedded in the earth, glowing faintly with residual heat.

Logan spoke, his voice calm but razor-sharp:

"From the angle you threw it, a normal person's shoulder would've been smashed and their arm severed. So, I've taken your arm."

He paused.

"Isn't that fair?"

The rest of the bandits were jolted from their stupor and immediately drew their weapons.

Logan didn't spare them a glance. He dismounted, walked up to the carriage, and lifted the curtain.

There were three carriages in total—one filled with women, the others loaded with food, wine, and gold and silver trinkets.

The bound men and women carried tools of all trades—carpentry, tailoring, construction.

Logan turned back to the bandits and asked again, his voice steady:

"Is this the 'fairness' you're after?"

"What's wrong with it?!" one of the bandits shouted back.

"These women—rich merchants can have them and make them bear their children! Why can't we do the same?!"

He was practically foaming at the mouth now.

"Officials live in giant mansions with servants. Why can't we live like them?! We've suffered our whole lives! Now it's our turn to enjoy!"

He spoke with such conviction, like he truly believed his twisted logic. He was screaming now, energized by his own voice.

Seeing that Logan didn't respond, he continued to shout:

"Our boss studied under Master Logan himself! He attended your lectures in Kirigakure!"

He pointed accusingly at Logan.

"So you better back off now! If you lay a finger on us, our boss won't spare you—and even the legendary Master Logan will crush any remnants of the old world!"

Crack!

A single punch from Star Platinum sent the bandit flying, his scream ending with a splash as he landed in a blood-soaked puddle. Silence fell.

The bandits gulped.

Their leader always told them to "arm themselves with the weapon of thought," but now that they were faced with a true monster, their so-called "thoughts" provided no strength at all.

"A monster!"

The group turned and attempted to flee—but before they could take a step, Logan's voice echoed behind them.

"Can you take me to your boss?"

His voice was calm, almost friendly. No threat. No malice.

Yet in that instant, the world seemed to dim. Their vision clouded over with a gray film, and the sky itself seemed darker. Dread sank into their bones.

This man… was not human. He was a demon in human skin.

They could feel invisible ropes slithering beneath their feet and around their necks—twisting, coiling, pulling tight. If they so much as moved, those ropes would strangle them where they stood.

"I-I'll take you!" the one-armed bandit gritted out.

But Logan shook his head and said softly, "Not you. You will lead me."

He swept his eyes across the others.

"Because today…"

His voice lowered like a death sentence.

"None of you will leave."

The one-armed bandit scowled and growled, "Fine. If you want to die so badly, come with us."

He thought Logan was skilled, yes, but still just a minor trickster. Once they reached their stronghold, their boss would show this arrogant man what true power was.

So Logan and Terumi Mei, accompanied by the remaining bandits and their prisoners, made their way toward the mountain under a tense and bizarre silence.

As they approached the foot of the mountain, one of the bandits pulled a flare from his belt, cracked it, and threw it into the air.

The flare screamed through the sky like a dying bird, glowing red as it pierced the mist—and vanished.

Everyone stood still, the silence that followed was suffocating.

Then suddenly, the fog rolled and twisted, forming into a massive Asura-like figure dozens of meters tall. It loomed above them, glaring with twisted rage and demonic energy.

The sight made many of the captured women and craftsmen faint in terror. Those still conscious fell to their knees, legs trembling uncontrollably.

The horses neighed wildly, yanking at their reins in a desperate attempt to flee.

"Lie down."

Logan's voice cut through the fear like a knife through cloth.

Instantly, all the horses quieted, standing obediently in place, as though spellbound.

"Large-scale genjutsu," Logan muttered.

A ripple of mountain-colored energy glowed at his fingertip, then condensed into a tiny golden flame. He flicked it into the mist.

The moment it touched the illusion, it was like tossing fire into dry kindling. The fog burst apart, revealing a middle-aged man hidden behind it.

"Boss!"

The bandits shouted with relief, fists raised in triumph. Their hearts swelled with hope.

Finally, justice would be served.

Finally, their righteous leader would destroy the villainous remnants of the old world.

But then—

The bandit leader's face twisted with horror.

He recognized Logan immediately. He had studied under him. He was one of the first students in Logan's "awakening" courses back in Kirigakure.

Without a word, without even trying to fight, the bandit leader turned and ran—vanishing into the thick fog.

Logan gave Terumi Mei a glance, then stepped into the mist without hesitation.

"He's leading him deeper!" the bandits cheered. "This is it! The final trap!"

Terumi Mei sighed softly. "Can you all shut up?"

The one-armed bandit scoffed. "What's the matter? Think your man's coming back alive? Dream on. He's already dead. It's your turn now, you—argh!"

A kunai pierced through his jaw and up through the roof of his mouth, stopping just short of his brain. Blood poured down his neck as he gagged in shock.

Terumi Mei's control was precise—she hadn't killed him. Not yet.

She wanted them all to live long enough to witness the end.

Then she would kill them.

Her expression turned grim as she stared into the mist where Logan had vanished.

She wasn't worried. This opponent was nothing. Even she could defeat him if she wanted.

What troubled her wasn't the fight—but what it meant.

She remembered what Logan had once said: that there were three types of enemies.

"Living enemies can be killed," he told her.

"But what about enemies born from twisted thoughts?"

Enemies like this… couldn't be fought with fists or kunai.

And she still didn't have an answer.

Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)

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