Chapter 19 – Curtain Call

c/w: mentions of sexual assault, blood/violence

“Murder —”

The sharp cry rang from the corner. Hai Lian’s blade sunk into Wild Horse’s chest. The rusty piece of iron wasn’t capable of cutting the rock hard muscles; it could only send its rust into the man’s blood and towards his heart.

The Amber Scorpions’ blade was one step ahead.

Blood splashed onto a girl, covering her white skirt, mask, and even the glittering jewel in her earlobe. Her blood red lips were half open in a silent scream. It was evident that neither she nor their bodyguards had any idea when her male companion had been marked and when he had met his violent end. By the time they noticed, the victim’s body had already fallen to the ground.

Feverish panic rapidly spread through the crowd. But before this fear could turn into frenzied violence, another cry rose from the opposite corner.

“Murder!”

Since so many Amber Scorpions had been called to action, their target had to be more than one person.

Young misses and their bodyguards, old men and their lackeys… Everyone pushed everyone else, their movements like seafoam rushing against the next wave. Muddy feet stepped on leather boots as everyone struggled against each other to make it out the door first — as if those faceless Amber Scorpions stood shoulder to shoulder at the very back, ready to pick off any that fell behind. These spectators who had originally believed themselves to be outside the cage, who had just been arrogantly appreciating the cruel yet exciting fights, were suddenly reduced to the trembling lambs awaiting slaughter, sobbing as the cruelty drew alarmingly close to themselves.

If a playwright had been present, they would have roared with laughter. And when they were done, this spectacle would have become the blueprint for their next comedic script.

At this moment, only two people hadn’t fled in hysteria.

Despite the lack of cheers, this performance would have its curtain call: among those fleeing, an unfortunate third would also lose their life tonight.

Moonlight filtered in from the window above, as if a helper backstage had guided a light to the two within the ring. Wild Horse’s expression promised to devour whoever he looked upon. The man laughed wildly and repeatedly said “Good, good,” as his fists rained down without hesitation. Yet this time, Hai Lian had nothing left to hide from the Amber Scorpions. He avoided Wild Horse’s attack with unimaginable speed and struck out with his own left fist.

This punch went straight for Wild Horse’s face. The half crazed man was already drunk on the blood rushing to his head, but with many years of fighting under his belt, he maintained his oppressive force despite Hai Lian’s move. Besides, Hai Lian’s punch came at the wrong angle and was completely possible to simply endure. But not a moment later, Wild Horse felt a sting in his eyes and cried out in pain.

“Ah!”

It was a pain completely foreign to him that resembled neither a blunt force nor a strike to his nerves. It was more acute, more cold… like cutting hard-to-chew foods for a child at dinner. A white flash, then red, and finally pitch black.

An empty socket remained where his right eye once was.

“Your muscles may be hard, but your eyes are soft.”

The assassin held a blade between his fingers. It wasn’t the rust dagger, nor was it the dagger the boss had stolen. Rather, it was quite similar to the one he’d used to cut Fang Tinglan’s hand a month ago.

Never let yourself leave with less than two weapons on your body and hide at least one. That way, if you run into someone you can’t defeat, you can still kill yourself.

This was Ah’ge’s second lesson.

The boy moved dexterously; he tossed the bloodied blade to the side, flexed his abdomen and kicked Wild Horse out of the ring. The man wailed, holding his bloodied eye. In a half crazed hysteria, he raised himself up again in an effort to retrieve his ax. But he was no match for Hai Lian’s inhuman speed. Placing one foot on the railing, Hai Lian directly yanked the weapon out of the wood, and utilizing its momentum, drew an arc that ended sinking the ax into Wild Horse. It sliced through his flesh and bones, continuing to cut completely through his body.

The man’s arm fell with a thump. Still holding the ax, Hai Lian walked towards Wild Horse.

“I’ve been looking for this person for three years.”

He spoke slowly, as if announcing the prisoners to be executed by the gallows.

“I visited every information broker in Jiumeng City, but nobody knew. Nobody saw who entered the small wooden room that night in Yangjiao Lane.”

Rather than falling drop by drop, the blood now poured out. Wild Horse staggered, still laughing dumbly. He only had one arm left now and didn’t know whether to press down on his eye or his other arm.

“You envy me. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know you at all, nor did it matter that everyone was the Baihu Gang’s dogs back then.”

Hai Lian stood in front of Wild Horse. He stared at the man’s stark white yet hideous face.

“You dared to stalk me for three years, but didn’t dare to challenge me once. You only dared to do those disgusting things to… ” Hai Lian’s blood and anger rose to his head. He took a deep breath before continuing to speak.

“I burned that dress. My sister no longer lives in Yangjiao Lane. She hasn’t fallen like you’d hoped. You were only right on one count: she is my precious treasure and I won’t let anyone hurt her.”

Hai Lian raised his arm.

The arena was completely empty, even the other contestants and their cunning boss had escaped long ago. In this deadly silence, the only living person tossed his ax to the side. He pulled out the dagger the boss had given him and stabbed it deep into the throat that had already been cut by the ax.

“This belongs to the arena; I’m returning it.” Hai Lian said.

Hai Lian had no sooner left the arena than something rolled from the side onto the road before him. He looked down. It was a finger.

“Index finger. The index finger used to pull a trigger.” A pleasant voice sounded from the shadows. It was the masked Amber Scorpion from before.

“Didn’t he threaten you with his index finger just now? Our boss took revenge for you.”

Who “he”1 was didn’t need to be stated.

“Then my dagger?” Hai Lain said, unmoved.

“Why are you so boring? You didn’t even thank us,” the other pouted. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have seen your dagger again.”

“If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have participated in this underground fight.”

The other muttered something under her breath, then reluctantly tossed the dagger to Hai Lian, purposefully tossing it blade first. Hai Lian fumbled once, then steadily caught it and tucked it away. The girl blinked from behind her mask.

“Our boss said that you’re quite skilled and wants to know if you’re interested in joining us in serving the emperor.”

“No.”

“I knew you’d say that, but our boss forced me to ask you anyway. So annoying.” She stuck her tongue out and took a couple steps back. Now even the silver edges of her mask were hidden from the moonlight.

“Then you’d better be careful not to run into us again. Next time we won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

The Amber Scorpion and her laugh slowly faded into the distance, but Hai Lian stood rooted to the spot, deep in thought. Eventually he turned around and headed home.

Hai Lian was truly exhausted tonight; he nearly fell asleep several times on the way back. In the end, he still made it to that ladder by the green door. He made his way up in a daze. When his hands reached the roof, he nearly slipped off. Another hand reached out to steady him.

“Careful.”

Hai Lian looked up, first seeing the silver and round moon behind the other man before noting his backlit yet handsome face.

“It’s you… ” Hai Lian murmured.

The hands steadying Hai Lian were warm and strong. One couldn’t help but want to be held a little bit tighter.

“It’s me,” Fang Tinglan answered.

“he”: referring to the boss