Chapter 18: I Have Come for Your Life

The Unfinished Carp Tower, named for its resemblance to a grass carp, was once a symbol of prosperity, bustling with life when construction first began. But for reasons unknown, work suddenly ceased and the building was abandoned for years. Now, it housed only stray cats and dogs, and the rare presence of a passing vagrant was enough to count as human activity.

This afternoon, a car pulled up and five or six men filed out, led by none other than Brother Biao. His neck was wrapped in thick gauze—eight stitches lay beneath. Fortunately, the wound wasn’t deep, missing his throat by a narrow margin.

As a notorious boss in Wujian City’s southern district, Brother Biao was known for his fierceness; he bullied others, never the other way around. Ordinarily, a debt of less than two hundred thousand didn’t require his personal attention—his men could handle it. But on that particular day, having just closed a lucrative deal, he felt exuberant and decided to lead the collection himself. Not only did he fail to recover the money, he was bested and left humiliated. Such a disgrace was intolerable. Brother Biao swore to reclaim his lost honor.

Later investigation revealed the man who had shamed him was merely the owner of a traditional medicine shop. Today, upon the man’s release from the hospital, Brother Biao chose this auspicious moment to strike.

The old Taoist had foretold it: today was Brother Biao’s lucky day.

He was in the middle of a passionate embrace with a heavily made-up young woman in a tight skirt when dazzling headlights flashed outside. At once, Brother Biao’s heart leapt with delight—his men had returned. Soon after, Li Yao was brought in, tightly bound.

“Tsk, tsk, you’re too rough with her,” Brother Biao chided. “Come, untie the girl.”

His men frowned, hesitating. Only after another barked command did they comply.

Li Yao did not cry out. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning silently against the wall, her eyes fixed unflinchingly on Brother Biao.

“Oh? Why aren’t you screaming?” he asked, intrigued, his gaze dark and wicked.

Li Yao sneered, “Scream? What would be the point? There’s no one around to hear.”

“Smart girl. I like that—you’ve got spirit.”

“I couldn’t care less about your likes.”

Brother Biao’s fleshy face twitched with displeasure. He strode over, seized her by the collar, and yanked her to her feet. Leaning in, he breathed deeply at her neck, exhaling with satisfaction.

“You smell wonderful, still untouched—a far cry from those cheap whores. Tonight, I’ll be your first.”

“Degenerate!”

Slap!

Brother Biao struck her hard. “Don’t refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit. I’ll ask you one question—answer to my satisfaction, and maybe I’ll be gentler.”

Li Yao knew there was no escaping this time. What was the use in crying or begging? It would only demean her further and worsen the abuse. Better to endure quickly and go to the police afterward; as a nurse, she understood such things.

“Ask your question.”

“Your boss—where did he learn his martial arts?”

“Martial arts?” Li Yao frowned in surprise. “He has Parkinson’s disease—how could he possibly be a master?”

Brother Biao knew Li Xin was ill, but remained baffled. After returning from the hospital that day, he questioned every one of his men present at the scene, yet none could say how Li Xin had attacked so suddenly, nor had they glimpsed the knife in his hand. It was uncanny—so uncanny it sent chills down Brother Biao’s spine. Yet all records showed Li Xin was just an ordinary young man who’d worked away from home for ten years. Hearing Li Yao’s answer now, Brother Biao finally relaxed.

He took Li Yao’s phone from a subordinate and found Li Xin’s number, dialing it. The call connected quickly.

“Li Xin, is it?”

“Yes, this is he.”

“I have Li Yao.”

“I know.”

“Good! Since you know, you’d better come here and apologize. Oh, and bring five hundred thousand—don’t short me a cent.”

“Fine.”

Brother Biao burst out laughing, his men joining in. To them, their previous defeat was a fluke—what could a sickly medicine shop owner possibly do? If they didn’t beat him until he begged for mercy tonight, they’d be ashamed to call themselves the boss’s men.

Beside them, Li Yao’s cheeks were pale, her dark eyes brimming with tears. She was beautiful to begin with, but now she looked like a fresh water lily, radiant and delicate, stirring a man’s heart. Her expression was filled with sorrow and regret—it was her fault for implicating Li Xin. What should she do? If Brother Li came, he would surely be beaten. Struggling helplessly, she was lost and anxious.

When the laughter died down, Brother Biao’s face turned menacing, the muscles on his face writhing like a nest of earthworms, hideous and contorted.

“The Carp Tower. You have two hours. If you’re late, don’t bother coming.”

For a man of his stature, pride and authority were everything—sacrosanct. Brother Biao felt triumphant, already picturing himself standing over Li Xin, ravishing a virgin. The very thought sent his blood racing and his body burning with lust. Grinning wickedly, he grabbed the young woman beside him, kneading her chest roughly. Though she winced in pain, she dared not protest and forced herself to feign pleasure.

“There’s no need,” came Li Xin’s calm voice over the phone, stunning all the thugs present. Had the fool chickened out? Li Yao’s face whitened further, disappointment and sorrow clouding her heart. She knew Li Xin could stay away and let the police handle it, but she still hoped for a hero’s rescue.

But reality is far harsher than dreams.

“What’s wrong, boy? Are you scared?” Brother Biao barked, expecting Li Xin to show up.

“No, I’m not afraid.” Li Xin’s voice remained steady, even a touch cold. The words alone sent a chill through everyone present. Though it was already October, the southern heat still lingered, people still in short sleeves. Yet suddenly, some felt an inexplicable urge to retreat—a primal instinct, unreasoned.

Brother Biao shook his head, cursing his own unease. “What do you mean?”

“I’m already here.”

“What? You’re here?” Brother Biao and his men exclaimed, startled, while Li Yao’s heart leapt with joy.

They glanced around but saw no trace of Li Xin. Was he invisible?

“Damn it, quit bluffing. If you’re really here, why hide?”

“Look behind you.”

At the words, Brother Biao immediately turned to look up. The others followed his gaze.

They were in the third-floor hall of the abandoned tower—a skeleton of steel and concrete, open and empty, nothing to obstruct their view. At a glance, everyone saw him—Li Xin—standing at the edge of the fourth-floor hall.

Dressed in black, his frame was slightly heavyset, yet this did not diminish his presence. A breeze stirred, sending his hair drifting, highlighting his pitch-black eyes: calm, cold, unfathomable. Within them, two crimson glimmers flickered, strange and mesmerizing.

As a former nine-time champion, Li Xin had once possessed the aura of a king on the field—a confidence and pride rooted in absolute self-belief. This presence was now etched into his very bones, irrevocable even though he no longer competed. The passage of years and the rise and fall of fortunes had only deepened this mark, made it more indelible. Once unleashed, it was like a wild stallion, surging forth and stirring up a storm of dust, unstoppable and immense.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Brother Biao spat, frowning, unconsciously edging closer to his two burliest men. Even among the city’s top bosses, none had ever exuded such overwhelming authority.

At that moment, in the black void unseen by others, a golden light blazed in Li Xin’s left palm, morphing into a golden Nepalese kukri. Around the blade’s spine coiled a vivid, exquisitely detailed five-clawed red dragon. The weapon radiated nobility and awe.

If a CF player had witnessed this, he’d have shouted in recognition: Dragon Slayer.

This was not the Dragon Slayer of legend, not the blade that moved mountains or ruled the world. Yet in Li Xin’s grasp, the weapon trembled, its blade humming with the roar of a dragon—anger, hunger, bloodlust.

In the vast emptiness of the abandoned tower, winter seemed to descend in an instant. Snow fell in the mind’s eye, and cold crept swiftly from the heart outward, swelling until bodies grew rigid and fear displaced all reason.

“Tonight, I’ve come for your life.”

With a leap, Li Xin descended from above in a flurry of sharp, slicing wind, appearing in a flash beside the wide-eyed Brother Biao. One palm swept out, one blade fell, and blood spurted forth in a crimson jet. Only then did Brother Biao’s agonized scream resound. The others looked over to see his left arm severed, lying on the ground, fingers still twitching.

In an instant, from the fourth floor to the third, a human silhouette traced an arc through the air.

Darkness as deep as despair.