Realm Walker

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Zhang Yuanqing lashed out with high kick after high kick, each one slamming into the young man's face, sending him staggering backward. Every time the Walker tried to mount a counterattack, another vicious strike shattered his momentum before he could prepare.

Yet, after withstanding that entire barrage, the official Walker was still standing without a scratch. He felt the sting across his skin, sure, baring his teeth and wincing, but nothing more. The hallmark of an Earth Wraith with astonishing defense.

Meanwhile, the middle-aged man on the far side finished radioing his companions, pocketed the walkie talkie, and slipped on a bizarre mask the color of dark bark, its surface rough and ridged as if carved from an actual tree.

Pfft, pfft, pfft...

From over ten meters away, the man sent sharp puffs of air through the mask in rapid bursts, launching a volley of wooden splinters toward the two combatants with each breath.

The tiny, needle-sharp wooden splinters whistled through the air almost silently, streaking toward their target like invisible darts. The bark mask was a Wood Demon-class item. The wearer could fire these miniature wooden needles simply by exhaling, and while their raw damage was modest, each splinter carried a biological toxin capable of inducing numbness, searing pain, and respiratory failure. Better still, there was no limit on ammunition. As long as the user's lungs held out, the barrage continued, making it brutally cost effective.

Zhang Yuanqing, wearing the Eye of the Observer, detected the incoming splinters a heartbeat before they arrived. He planted a foot against the Earth Wraith's chest, used the man's body as a springboard, and threw himself sideways into a roll, dodging the volley with startling agility.

The young Earth Wraith wasn't so lucky. A dozen splinters peppered him instantly, each one dimpling his skin and sending tiny sand-colored ripples across his hardened exterior. The splinters lacked the force to breach an Earth Wraith's defense.

At that moment, Zhang Yuanqing's gaze pierced straight through the reinforced concrete walls of the nightclub, and he spotted three Walkers with powerful auras sprinting toward the front entrance. Behind the building, the one who'd been guarding the rear was already circling around to join them.

Close enough. He didn't hesitate. He launched himself to his feet and bolted across the street, away from the Red Dragon Nightclub.

"You think you can run?" the middle-aged man taunted him.

He spat a fan of wooden splinters to cut off the escape route, then lunged after him with apelike agility, closing in on Zhang Yuanqing's exposed back. He pressed his palms together like a blade, the skin rippling as dark growth rings spiraled out across his flesh. His hand and all five fingers transformed into vicious wooden spikes which he thrust toward the enemy's spine.

This was a Level 3 Wood Demon, a captain-level fighter.

Zhang Yuanqing skidded to a halt mid-sprint, twisted about at the waist, and threw a punch back over his shoulder like a charging cavalryman's lance.

The middle aged man threw up his left forearm, bark blossoming across his skin as it hardened to the density of ironwood.

BOOM!

The first wooden blade hand narrowly missed its target, slicing through Zhang Yuanqing's shirt as he twisted aside. The Nocturnal Specter's fist, meanwhile, crashed into the Wood Demon's raised forearm with the dull, heavy thud, as though he'd struck solid timber.

The Wood Demon stumbled back three steps, and his forearm cracked with a sharp snap. Blood seeped from the fissure in the bark like sap from a split log.

A hint of surprise crossed the Wood Demon's face. He got stronger?!

This particular Enchanting Demon's level of power had been measured not long ago, and it had been nothing like this. Logic dictated that after being wounded by the steward, his combat ability should have dropped, not surged.

Then it clicked. Enchanting Demons entered a blood frenzy upon drawing blood. He had to have killed someone inside the nightclub.

On the opposite end, Zhang Yuanqing's mind coolly assessed the situation. This guy's weaker than I expected. No, wait—I'm just that strong now.I'm Level 3, and it's nighttime, when the Power of the Dark Moon is at its peak. If I weren't worried about blowing my cover and could actually use Moon Howl, I could end this in ten moves.

He took two strong steps forward, his feet hammering the pavement. Power surged up through his tensed legs, rolling up through his core and shoulders, and erupting down his arm.

CRACK!

Another straight punch split the air with a crisp, explosive report.

The middle-aged man felt his breath seize in his throat. He dropped his center of gravity and twisted left like a circus acrobat, barely dodging the fist that would have caved in his skull. Immediately he snapped his torso back and leaped away, firing two more bursts of wooden splinters as he retreated.

Zhang Yuanqing let the splinters embed themselves in his chest, stepped forward with his right foot, and launched an uppercut from below. The blow connected with a muffled boom, and the middle aged man folded in half as his body curled up like a cooked shrimp. His eyes bulged, laced with red veins.

At that precise moment, three official Walkers burst out through the front entrance of the nightclub. At their head strode a man in a white suit, broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, with his hair slicked back, radiating an overwhelming presence. He charged two steps forward and cocked his arm in a javelin thrower's stance.

Flame erupted from his palm with a fierce hiss, coalescing into a blazing lance of roaring fire. The steward let out a low shout and hurled it with everything he had.

The lance became a streak of light, rocketing forward. Simultaneously, the steward snapped his fingers, attempting to use the flame lance as a medium to perform his Fire Walk and close the distance to the enemy in an instant.

Zhang Yuanqing reached into the void and drew out a Daoist robe, dark as midnight, emblazoned with the yin yang symbol on its back. It had silver stitching across the upper half and blazing flame embroidery along the hem.

Whoooosh!

The robe unfurled and draped itself across his shoulders of its own accord.

Zhang Yuanqing watched the screaming lance barrel toward him, extended one hand, and clenched his fist.

A fire hydrant down the street exploded with a bang. A ferocious torrent of water surged forth like a white dragon, smashing into the flame lance and snuffing it to steam.

The fire that had just begun to ignite across the body of the man in the white suit guttered and died.

The Fire Sage didn't immediately give chase. Instead, he let out a puzzled grunt and studied the defiant youth now draped in that Daoist robe. He was an experienced steward, and his instincts were warning him that something was off.

This brat is clearly an Enchanting Demon. Since when can he control water? And what's that robe about? If he had an item like that, why didn't he use it earlier? Where's his blade?

Questions cascaded through his mind, each one deepening his unease.

While he was still thinking, the arrogant youth who'd tried to assassinate him curled his lip into a cold smirk, jammed his thumb downward, and sneered, "Death to all bull-headed fools!"

With that, the youth spun on his heel and ran.

The steward in the white suit felt the veins in his forehead bulge one by one. His expression twisted, inch by inch, into something feral, until finally his rage erupted like a geyser of fire from the crown of his head.

He gave chase with reckless abandon, as if he'd lost all reason.

His five subordinates fell in behind their commanding officer without hesitation, the whole pack thundering after the fleeing youth's silhouette as it grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

Roughly ten seconds after they vanished, a pale-faced young man with thick brows and bright eyes crept cautiously out of the nightclub's front entrance. He glanced left, then right, confirmed the coast was clear, and slipped away into the darkness.

***

Kou Beiyue stuck to the darkest alleys he could find, weaving through shadows without stopping for even a moment, until the ache in his wounds sharpened into piercing spikes and his breathing turned ragged. Only then did he allow himself to halt.

He dropped onto the curb, gulping air in great heaving breaths. Every pore on his body seemed to open at once, and sweat poured down him in sheets.

"This should be far enough," he muttered softly.

He sat there breathing the muggy night air for a while, then suddenly slammed his fist into the ground and snarled under his breath, "Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it..."

Fist after fist hammered the pavement, venting the frustration boiling inside him, until the concrete cracked and his knuckles were raw and bloody. He sucked in a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

Kou Beiyue pulled out his phone, intending to call Xiao Yuan back and tell her he was safe, that she didn't need to worry.

When the screen lit up, he saw a message from that unknown number, sent half an hour ago: Get out!

He'd already escaped the nightclub before the message even arrived.

He dialed Xiao Yuan's number. The call connected on the first ring. Her voice came through, ice-cold.

—Kou Beiyue?

His voice dropped instinctively, quiet and guilty, like a child who knew he'd done something wrong. "Xiao Yuan, it's me..."

He heard a soft exhale through the speaker, like an inflated balloon finally, slowly, deflating. Just as he braced himself for a storm of cursing, he heard something else instead.

—Where is he? The person who saved you, where is he?

"I don't know. After he drew those official Walkers away, I just ran," Kou Beiyue answered honestly.

—Unbelievable!

Xiao Yuan let out a bitter laugh, her words laced with barely contained fury.

—Next time you want to get yourself killed, don't call me. Just go die quietly on your own and stop dragging other people down with you.

Kou Beiyue hung his head and gritted his teeth. "I'm sorry. I'll go back and find him right now."

"No need. I'm already here."

Kou Beiyue whipped his head around. A few meters behind him, a young man's silhouette gradually materialized from the gloom.

He was an ordinary-looking guy with a wooden expression and black-rimmed glasses, the kind of person whose appearance immediately conjured up words like "engineering nerd," "homebody," and "introvert."

This is Xiao Yuan's friend? The one who just saved me? The thought had barely formed before Xiao Yuan's voice came through the speaker again, unmistakably relieved.

—Give him the phone.

Kou Beiyue tossed the phone over.

Zhang Yuanqing caught it with an easy reach, lifted it to his ear, and smiled. "I'm fine. Not a scratch, and my cover's intact."

Silence stretched for a dozen heartbeats on the other end. When she next spoke, Xiao Yuan's voice was soft and warm.

—Thank you. I'll join your guild.

A grin split Zhang Yuanqing's face, and he replied with entirely hollow modesty, "Oh come on, Aunty Yuan, don't make it sound like some kind of transaction. I helped you because of your personal charm, that's all. We're all friends here."

Heh heh, Xiao Yuan, you're mine now.

He heard Xiao Yuan take a deep breath.

—Anyway, thanks. I'll be sure to repay this favor.

Zhang Yuanqing glanced at the defiant young man and said, "I'll let you go for now. I still have some questions for him."

He hung up, walked over to the youth, handed back the phone, and asked, "What's your name?"

As he passed the phone over, he caught a glimpse of the face reflected in the dark screen.

This time, Zhang Yuanqing hadn't disguised himself as Wang Tai. Instead, he'd searched for "homebody" and "socially awkward" online and picked a photo to copy. With the Disguise Ring, he could become anyone he wanted. There was no sense in shearing the same sheep every time.

"Kou Beiyue!" the defiant youth announced. He sized up the man who appeared several years older, then fired back, "You're a Nocturnal Specter? Are you from the Taiyi Sect? How do you know Xiao Yuan?"

Kou Beiyue was no novice. On the contrary, a Level 3 Enchanting Demon who'd trained under Master Wuhen possessed sharp instincts. One look at how the man had appeared from the shadows gave away the stranger's class.

He caught himself and hastily added, "Thank you. Thank you for saving me. I'll repay this kindness."

So you're awfully curious about how I know Xiao Yuan, huh? Wait—are you her son?

"I didn't save you for your sake," Zhang Yuanqing replied evenly. "Xiao Yuan will settle the debt herself. Now answer me. Why did you try to assassinate a Five Elements Alliance Steward?"

Kou Beiyue's brow furrowed, but he remained silent.

Zhang Yuanqing pressed on. "You know I'm a Nocturnal Specter, so you should also know that the Taiyi Sect and the Five Elements Alliance are joined at the hip. Killing an official steward is a capital offense. I saved you for Xiao Yuan's sake, but I need a reasonable explanation."

Kou Beiyue was silent for a long time. Something dark and painful surfaced behind his eyes, as though he were reliving memories he'd tried to bury. Finally, through gritted teeth, he spoke.

"Because he murdered my sister."

Slowly, he recounted the past.

"I grew up in a village outside Jinshan City, but was suspended from high school for fighting. My sister was the one with a future. She went to college here in Songhai, and stayed after graduation to work. Two years ago, my parents decided I was wasting my life bumming around at home, so they sent me to Songhai to live with her and find a real job. Everything was fine at first. Then one day, she just vanished.

"I went to her company for answers. Her coworkers said she'd quit ages ago to go into business with some guy from Jinshan. But she'd never told me any of that. The next day, when she still hadn't come home, I filed a report with the Public Security Bureau and called our parents.

"For an entire month after that, nothing. Not a single lead. I quit my own job and went to the Bureau every day, but the answer was always the same. Go home and wait, we're investigating. Then one day, over a month later, my sister came back."

At this point, a bone-deep hatred flashed through Kou Beiyue's eyes.

"She was covered in injuries, gaunt, and barely there mentally. I noticed she was wearing slippers. She had to have escaped. The second she walked through the door, she started stuffing things into bags, repeating over and over, 'Run... We have to run... Run now...'

"I asked her what happened, and where she'd been all this time. She wouldn't tell me, but just kept saying 'run.' I lost my temper and raised my voice, and she..."

His jaw tightened. "She dropped to the ground, arms over her head, screaming 'don't hit me.' I can't imagine what she'd gone through in that month."

More than two years had passed, but the pain and hatred in Kou Beiyue's eyes remained so thick you could almost cut it with a knife.

Zhang Yuanqing's face slowly emptied of expression as he listened in silence.

"What happened next?" he asked.

"We didn't make it out in time," Kou Beiyue replied. "That animal came after her. Yeah, the steward you just fought. He killed my sister right in front of me. I'll never forget what he said while he did it. He said..."

He laughed, a short, ugly sound, lips pulling back to bare white teeth. "'Filthy whore, you dare run? I wasn't done with you. How dare you run?'

"Then he killed me too. But I didn't die. The Spirit Realm granted me a Character Card, and I was reborn. A second life. Maybe even the Spirit Realm thought there was too much evil in this world, and someone needed to fight fire with fire."

That doesn't add up, Zhang Yuanqing thought, frowning inwardly. With a steward's status, he could have any woman he wanted, ordinary or Walker. Why do that to a civilian? Unless he has some kind of twisted fetish, or there's more to the story.

He clicked his tongue. If what Kou Beiyue says is true, I can't just look the other way.

"So how did you end up with Master Wuhen?" he asked aloud.

"Because I couldn't bring myself to kill." Kou Beiyue's expression twisted with anguish. "Every time I saw someone weak begging for their life, trembling with fear, all I could see was my sister's face, right before she died. If I gave in to the killing, if I bared my fangs at the helpless, how would I be any different from the animal who murdered her?"

Principled, aren't you? Zhang Yuanqing mused. Still, it makes sense. Anyone whom Master Wuhen takes under his wing must be an oddball among Evil-class Walkers. He was about to offer a word of affirmation when a cheerful voice cut in from the side.

"Not bad, not bad at all. Baring your fangs at the weak makes you no different from an animal. The essence of killing is violence against violence—using swift and efficient means to cleanse this filthy world."

Zhang Yuanqing and Kou Beiyue both flinched, turning in unison toward the sound of the voice. There, beneath the amber glow of a streetlamp, stood a young man wearing a sports headband, hands clasped behind his back, watching them with a bright, sunny smile.

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