Under One Person: My Inner Realm Connects to All Worlds!

Chapter 13 First Arrival in Kyoto
Kyoto's weather system has similarities to that of Tianjin, but also some differences.

It is said that accents vary every ten miles and customs vary every hundred miles. When you hear those Beijing accents around you, you can truly feel that you have arrived in Beijing!

Han Yun had just gotten off the high-speed train and was about to transfer to the subway.

Unexpectedly, as the subway doors opened, Han Yun passed by a short young man, and he immediately frowned.

The man in front of me has an odd aura; it's too low.

Since learning the art of silence, Han Yun has paid close attention to his breathing, movements, and so on, landing silently and as lightly as a cat.

This short young man moved even more lightly than himself, like a feather, floating away without a trace.

Although Han Yun's attention was drawn to him, the two only passed each other for a brief moment. Han Yun boarded the subway, the doors closed, and through the train window, he saw the short young man proudly waving his wallet.

It was Han Yun's possession.

Han Yun exclaimed in surprise, touching the pocket where he kept his wallet, and sure enough, there was a tear in it.

This person was able to take my wallet without me noticing, and their aura was so low; they must be an extraordinary person, and one who makes a living by stealing other people's property.

Faced with the man's smug expression, Han Yun simply smiled slightly and calmly looked at him.

With the help of the inner space, he was practically a sorcerer, so finding the other party's whereabouts was a piece of cake. Therefore, Han Yun was not in a hurry to retrieve his wallet.

Moreover, there was nothing in the wallet. All the money was kept in the inner space, so no one could steal it. The wallet only contained an empty high-speed rail ticket.

What Han Yun was truly interested in was the other party's methods.

At the same time, he couldn't help but sigh. He had just gotten off the train and this had happened. The local people were really too impolite.

------

Two hours later, it got dark.

Han Yun wandered through the narrow alleys of Kyoto and finally arrived at the gate of a secluded courtyard house, which was still within the Second Ring Road. It has to be said, this thief is quite rich.

The two small stone lions at the entrance look quite old.

Han Yun gently pushed the door, only to find it locked. He simply tapped the wall lightly with his foot and climbed over it into the yard.

There were some broken earthenware pots piled up in the corner of the courtyard. It was only thanks to Han Yun's amazing lightness skill that he managed to make no sound. If it were anyone else, they would have shouted long ago.

Meanwhile, the sound of slurping noodles could be heard coming from inside the main house.

Han Yun took a closer sniff and smelled the rich aroma of soy sauce. "Alright," he thought, "it's definitely fried noodles with soybean paste, and it's even served in a small bowl. How sophisticated!"

Small bowl dry-fried sauce is a specific method of making the sauce for Kyoto-style fried noodles. Its characteristics are that the sauce is served in a small bowl, the oil and sauce are separated, and the taste is dry and fragrant. It is usually served with hand-pulled noodles and seasonal toppings.

Once the sauce is mixed with the noodles, the noodles become glossy, not clumpy or sticky, and incredibly fragrant. You can easily slurp down several bowls without any problem.

Inside, a man was eating noodles while mumbling incoherently, "Uncle, I ran into a penniless guy at the subway station today. He had a perfectly good wallet, but not a single bill in it. I don't know where he hid his money. It's really strange!"

The other person scolded, "I told you, you're not skilled enough yet. Things aren't like before, there are surveillance cameras everywhere. You still dare to do it? What if someone finds out? Do you want to go to jail?"

The man said nonchalantly, "So what? I'm disguised. If you can't find me, uncle, can I have a clove of garlic?"

Han Yun was so angry he almost laughed. Then he kicked open the door, and the wooden door slammed against the wall with a bang, shaking the door frame and causing dust to fall.

Inside, the short young man was holding a bowl, chopsticks still dangling in mid-air, his mouth stuffed full of noodles, his cheeks bulging like a hamster's. The middle-aged man sitting opposite him was holding half a clove of garlic, and had just handed it to him when he froze, his eyes wide.

One of them had an honest and simple appearance, while the other was bald and looked sleazy.

"Noodles without garlic are incomplete without the flavor. This garlic smells quite good, doesn't it?" Han Yun smiled as he stepped through the door, closing it behind him. "Give me a clove too?"

The short young man gulped down his noodles, nearly choking, and jumped up, pointing at Han Yun: "You, what happened?"

"How did you find this place? Do you think I'd tell you?" Han Yun's eyes gradually turned cold and sharp.

The middle-aged man's expression changed drastically. He grabbed the young man's shoulder and hissed, "Run!"

The young man shook off his hand, stubbornly sticking out his neck: "What are you afraid of! He's just one person, can't the two of us handle him?"

After saying that, he moved with lightning speed, appearing behind Han Yun like a ghost. His fingers were like hooks, with a blade between them, and he aimed straight for the back of Han Yun's neck!

Without turning his head, Han Yun grabbed the other person's wrist with his backhand and pressed it down.

"Crack!"

The young man screamed and knelt on one knee, his wrist hanging limply, the blade scattered on the ground.

Seeing this, the middle-aged man grabbed a vinegar bottle from the table and threw it at Han Yun. Han Yun dodged to the side, and the bottle smashed against the wall with a "clang," splashing sour smell everywhere.

"Your hospitality is inappropriate," Han Yun sighed, "stealing wallets and throwing vinegar at guests, isn't it?"

The middle-aged man was sweating profusely when he suddenly flung three blades out of his sleeve, which whizzed and shot straight at Han Yun's face!
The blade was attached to extremely fine threads, indicating that it could be recycled.

Han Yun didn't move, but a cold smile appeared on his lips.

Just as the blades were about to strike his face, he lightly touched the ground with his toes, and his whole body floated back half a step like a falling leaf. The three blades grazed past the tip of his nose, and the strong wind they generated lifted a few strands of hair on his forehead.

"A wired-controlled knife? That's interesting!"

Han Yun chuckled softly, his sleeve trembled slightly, and a slender scalpel silently slid into his palm.

The middle-aged man's pupils contracted, and he jerked his fingers, trying to retract the blade. However, Han Yun was faster than him.

A flash of cold light!
"Zheng! Zheng! Zheng!"

With three soft clicks, the threads connecting the blades snapped. Han Yun flicked his wrist, and the three blades fell steadily into his palm as if attracted by a magnet.

Upon seeing this, the short young man turned pale, clutching his dislocated wrist and staggering backward, stammering, "Uncle... he... he..."

The middle-aged man's forehead veins bulged as he gritted his teeth and growled, "We're done for! Run!"

Before he could finish speaking, he abruptly overturned the table, the bowl of noodles with soybean paste shattering on the floor with a "crash," sauce splattering everywhere. Taking advantage of this moment of cover, he grabbed the young man and rushed into the inner room.

Han Yun shook his head and sighed. He lightly touched the ground with his toes and floated behind the two like a ghost. The scalpel flashed coldly and was held in front of the middle-aged man's neck.

"Move again, and I can't guarantee your neck will still be connected to your head." Han Yun's voice was soft, but it carried an undeniable chill.

The middle-aged man stood frozen in place, cold sweat sliding down his cheeks.

(End of this chapter)