The Black Hand's Wrath
The Heavenly Slaughter Star.
Sichuan.
And its capital, Chengdu.
It might not boast the same storied names as Chang’an, Beijing, or Luoyang, but it was no backwater to be sneered at.
Historically, it had been the capital of Shu during the Warring States period. In the martial world, its reputation held just as firm.
For one thing, two of the Nine Great Schools—the Qingcheng Sect and the Emei Sect—made their homes nearby.
Put simply, they were two of the top organizations among the so-called righteous factions that acted like gangsters across the country.
The Emei Sect, being Buddhist, spent most of its time cultivating deep in the mountains, but the Qingcheng Sect—nothing but sword-swinging thugs at heart—kept a branch in Chengdu and wielded real influence there.
They called themselves Taoist immortals and pretended to be refined, yet in the city they swaggered and threw their weight around just like any other gang of “heroes.”
They were polite gangsters, nothing more.
Compared to the other group, however, the Qingcheng Sect were practically gentle scholars.
The Sichuan Tang Clan held the city’s underworld in an iron grip. They were a criminal enterprise whose brutality was infamous throughout the entire central plains.
People even called them the Tang Family or the Tang Clan House because they operated like a bloodline business.
This family syndicate was notorious for its underhanded poisoned weapons and toxins, but their cruelty earned them even greater fear.
Their reputation was so dark that when martial artists fought, they would whisper, “That one’s from the Tang Clan,” and back away.
If even fellow warriors trembled at the name, ordinary people had no chance.
One avoided filth, but a hunting dog drenched head to toe in blood was something you fled from.
Or you knelt and begged for mercy.
Take me, please.
The people of Chengdu knew the Tang Clan was the strongest power in the region.
They acknowledged its might and moved with the current it created.
The emperor might rule the central plains, but in this city the Tang Clan patriarch might as well have been the true lord.
Yet no matter how powerful they were, a family-run enterprise could never cover every corner.
After all, they were nothing but strong thugs; they had never received an imperial decree granting them official authority.
So in Chengdu there remained at least one district beyond the Tang Clan’s reach.
The slums.
A filthy, narrow alley even butchers and prostitutes avoided.
This was the place the innkeeper had described when Liz asked for the Black Hand Old Woman’s location.
Unlike the wide main streets only a short walk away, the alleys here were so cramped that the crumbling buildings seemed glued together.
Children even more ragged than the bandaged waiter swarmed everywhere.
Everywhere Liz looked she saw only hopeless, filthy faces. She rubbed her eyes, doubting what she saw.
To someone who had lived in the twenty-first century in a developed country, this sight was rarer than magic.
“No wonder everyone kept asking why I wanted to come here.”
The girl frowned, remembering the looks on people’s faces during her journey.
Still, she steeled her resolve and stepped deeper into the filthy streets.
The moment a neatly dressed young woman entered the slums, every eye locked onto her fair face and clean clothes.
Had she not carried a sword at her waist, countless children would have reached for her purse and lecherous men for her body.
A few fearless ones actually tried. Instead of slicing their wrists, Liz generously repaid their life’s worth with a thorough beating.
She spent dozens of minutes personally pounding a few residents with fists and feet, then paying them fair compensation to clear the path.
She had left the inn early that morning. By the time the sun hung high overhead, she finally found it.
“This must be the place.”
The old woman’s house looked exactly as rumored.
The innkeeper had said she was a martial artist who lived among the poor and had grown rather famous. Sure enough, her door was on the verge of total collapse, just like the strange stories.
It looked ready to wash away in the next heavy rain.
These money-obsessed people hesitated even when I asked for directions. She must have some goodwill among them.
Besides, a martial artist should have been someone of considerable status. Why live in a place like this?
And why had Liz been asked to protect her?
Unable to understand any of it, Liz scratched her cheek.
Turning back now was pointless, and she had already heard that the Black Hand Old Woman of Chengdu was unique. Her hesitation didn’t last long.
She carefully knocked on the door that looked ready to fall apart at any moment.
Knock, knock.
The taps were so light she wondered if the old woman could even hear them.
Before long, a faint presence stirred inside.
Slow footsteps approached, accompanied by a wheezing breath that sounded as fragile as the ruined house itself.
Creak—
Just as Liz focused on every sound, the old woman finally opened the door.
Her face was wrinkled like any elder of the central plains, and her hands were pitch black.
Only those two aged hands were strangely smooth, without a single wrinkle, and utterly black.
A strangely familiar energy radiated from her.
Before she could even offer a greeting, Liz’s gaze fell to those hands. When she looked up, she realized the old woman was staring at her own crimson eyes.
Is it really that strange to everyone?
Liz scratched her cheek again, embarrassed, and spoke to the old woman who continued to stare.
“Hello. I came because of that request.”
Her wording felt incredibly awkward.
Every mission she had received until now had been assassination or elimination.
She was not used to suddenly appearing and saying, “I’m here to protect you. This is actually a premium service.”
So Liz spoke as if she had simply been hired, and the old woman nodded in satisfaction.
“Mm, a truly valuable guest has arrived.”
Her voice sounded like any grandmother you might meet in a countryside home.
The unexpectedly friendly tone made the red-eyed girl smile brightly.
The old woman nodded once, then gathered energy around her black hands.
What?
Liz blinked.
“Yes, it’s about time for the assassin to show up.”
With those muttered words, the old woman swung her fist.
Liz’s eyes widened as she drew her sword.
BOOOOOOM!
The fist colliding with the flat of the blade produced a sound that should never have come from flesh and steel.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
She had looked half-dead a moment ago, yet her punches overflowed with power.
Every swing of those pitch-black fists smashed the slum houses to pieces.
Terrified residents screamed and fled.
Liz finally understood why the poor had hesitated to reveal the old woman’s location.
Is this old lady crazy?
Even if Liz was supposed to protect her, swinging fists like that was clearly insane.
Should she pull out the Blood Seed right now and kill the old woman with full power?
While she hesitated, Liz replayed their earlier conversation and tilted her head as she blocked another punch.
Come to think of it, did I ever say I was here to protect her?
Hmm. Her mind had been so scattered she couldn’t quite remember.
She remembered the old woman throwing a punch the instant she opened her mouth.
Well, if she hadn’t said it before, she could say it now.
“Hey, grandma! I’m here to protect you! From other people! This me! I’m the one protecting you! Okay?”
BANG! BANG!
Whether she understood or not, the Black Hand Old Woman’s punches slowed slightly even as she kept swinging.
Frowning, the old woman glared hard into Liz’s eyes and muttered.
“Western language? So it really is them.”
“Who the hell are they?!”
“Stop denying it! Are you trying to bewitch me!”
The old woman suddenly flew into a rage and rampaged even harder.
Liz made up her mind.
She had planned to restrain her, but if she got caught up and died, that couldn’t be helped.
Whatever. She had done everything she could.
Clang!
She knocked aside the old woman’s black hand and retreated, pressing her palm to the ground.
Seeing Liz suddenly crouch, the old woman narrowed her eyes but charged anyway.
“Godzilla.”
She activated the Blood Seed.
In the bustling streets of Chengdu’s capital.
Tang Cheolak stepped out of a famous tavern known for its beautiful courtesans and strong liquor, tilting his head in confusion.
As the young master of the Tang Clan, he excelled in both poison arts and martial skills, possessed a cruel nature, and above all had excellent instincts.
What is this feeling?
He had just enjoyed a thrilling night, yet his body felt strangely cold.
Was he fated to be scolded by his father for playing with prostitutes at such an important time?
Or perhaps the merchant leader he had threatened last time had decided to stop paying tribute.
Hmm. All I did was stab him a little and he screamed like that.
Shaking his head, Tang Cheolak quickened his steps toward home.
While walking the usual crowded street, a sudden chill ran down the back of his neck.
KWAAAAAAAAAAAANG!!!
At the tremendous roar, Tang Cheolak’s eyes flew wide open and he whipped his head around.
From one side of the city, a pitch-black monster had risen, bellowing with savage fury.
──GRRRRRRROOOOOOAAAAAAR!!!