Poison City

After bidding Marcus goodbye, Master Liaoran insisted that he and Wuzui leave on their own and not bother Marcus. Wuzui was confused, but he had no choice but to go along with his master. Slowly but steadily, they walked away from the scene, heading towards a more crowded and lively part of the area, where they could hopefully catch a taxi to take them back.

Wuzui looked back and checked on Marcus, who jumped into a sinkhole once again, seeming to investigate some more. To be honest, he was not certain what the scene was, or what happened in the area as to have buried so many under the ground. But he did not care that much either. What he went through when he was still a member of the drug dealing gang still lingered on his mind and filled him with fear, a fear even when by the side of his master could not be fully put to rest.

“You’re worried.” Master Liaoran smiled as he walked along the empty road: “About the detective, I assume?”

“Well, yeah, a little.” Wuzui sighed: “And - and about us. Master, you’re sure we don’t want Detective Cai to give us a ride? That was a hard fight, and thanks to you and Detective we’re able to get out alive. But you must be tired - ”

“I’m fine, Wuzui. I’ve had harder fights during my younger years.” Master Liaoran shook his head: “And that would probably be the second hard fight for the detective tonight, if he’s unlucky. And remember, we keep this to ourselves, unless it is the time for us to reveal this secret. The detective would be wise to not involve us, and we would be wise to not involve him.”

“But - what are you hiding from, master?” Wuzui struggled for a brief moment, then still decided to pose this question that had been bugging him for a while.

“I can’t tell you that. I’m sure you can understand.” Master Liaoran looked up at the gradually brightening sky and said: “But I have a feeling that my bindings would not matter soon. ”

“I see… ” Wuzui thought for a moment: “Thank you, master.”

“Stay here for a moment. ” Out of nowhere, Master Liaoran stopped right at the position of a dim and flickering roadside light: “Don’t worry, wait for my return. It should not take long.”

“Okay, but …” Wuzui wanted to ask, but Master Liaoran had already reached the side of a five-storey building before he could speak any other word. The building seemed abandoned and its concrete internal structures were directly exposed. Master Liaoran just walked on the wall as if he was casually climbing a slightly steep mountain. And on the fourth floor, he just directly jumped inside.

“Namo Amitabha.” Master Liaoran stepped to a cloaked figure in front of him, with two curved blades in hands and half a dozen throwing knives on the belt: “I thought I sensed you. You must be the keeper.”

“And you are?” The figure asked with a hoarse voice, as he turned towards Master Liaoran, revealing his face half covered - not the lower part as one would normally expect, but the upper, including both of his eyes.

“Just a humble monk.” Master Liaoran gently bowed: “And I would like to thank you, for staying on the side when we deal with the nasty unclean entities that lurk in the area.”

“Hah, is that what you think it was?” The figure took out two curved swords from his back: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, baldie, but there’s not much to do around here. ”

“So, you were actually waiting for entertainment?” Master Liaoran nodded, smiling.

“Yeah.” The figure twirled the twin curved swords as he approached Master Liaoran: “This job is very boring, you see. And unlucky for you, it’s been a while since these blades tasted blood.”

Master Liaoran took a careful look at the twin curved swords - their blades and edges looked identical, both had a spike near the tip, both had green dragon-shaped patterns on the side, and both had a dark green, almost emerald-like shine on them.

“Lord of Green Bat Dragon.” Master Liaoran whispered a name.

“Oh?” The figure halted for a moment then responded with an amused smirk: “I didn’t expect someone to bring that name up, after all these years. Now tell me your name. So you can sleep with honor.”

“Namo Amitabha.” Master Liaoran bowed gently to the figure, shaking his head: “Dear donor, I don’t think you will be forgotten anytime soon. Yours is still a feared and respected name amongst many areas and sections of the society, especially amongst martial circles. But I would still caution mercy and harmony. Even the most brutal of men can still find the path to redemption and righteousness.”

The figure let out a loud laugh, then without a hint of any premeditation he leapt towards the humble old monk standing right in front of him. The twin curved sword gave out a green glow and left two trails of green light in the air. One aiming at Master Liaoran’s neck; one aiming at his right arm. This was the signature killer move of Lord of Green Bat Dragon, the once notorious underground mercenary and contract killer. Though blind in the eyes, he possessed incredible senses that were far superior than any normal person with perfect eyesight. And many targets felled by him shared the same fate: their right arms severed, and decapitated, almost at the same time. Before today, almost no one had heard of him for years, many presumed that he went into hiding or died.

“Clunk!” This time the edges of the two swords failed their wielder, as they were both blocked and were not able to move even an inch further, by two hands that were made of nothing but flesh and bones. These two hands now glowed in golden and red light, their fingers bit into the alloy edges, and cracks started crawling all over the blades.

“Amitabha.” The old man sighed: “The years of killing and resentment had sharpened and tempered your blade, yet it also weakened the very core. You have burnt much more out than many, and today, I’m afraid I have to take this matter into my own hands.”

“What the - ” The figure tried to let go of the curved swords, but somehow both his palms were stuck on the handle by some kind of force, even with all his Qi he could not even move a finger.

With a simple clench of fingers, the old monk crushed both blades into metal scraps. The next moment, the figure felt a palm tapping him on the chest and a gust of warm Qi rushing into his body, coursing in his meridians and burning his own Qi away. 

Before he passed out due to shock and a sudden burn out of his own Qi, something came to this figure’s mind. He had been in hiding for quite some time, but so had others, many of whom had more fearsome reputation than his. Judging by the stern and warm Qi in his body and the unbelievable display of hardened Qigong, he only had time to utter but a single word: “Dark …”

Wuzui waited for less than three minutes, he was pretty sure since he was checking on his phone the whole time. The sun had come out in full, but it brought only very limited warmth to his tired body and scared mind. Now he just wanted to get back to the temple, sleep and do his usual chores. It was a simple and boring life, but a safe life he enjoyed.

“Alright. Let’s go.” Master Liaoran returned, carrying a cloaked man on his shoulder like it was nothing.