Chapter Twelve: The Pitch-Black Night

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The night was deep and impenetrable.

Thick clouds concealed even the moonlight, and though the persistent drizzle had ceased, the streets were left muddy and treacherous. Cars sped by now and then, splattering pedestrians with mud as they passed.

Whenever the splattered passersby readied curses, all they caught was the fading glow of retreating taillights.

Liu Tian carefully put away the now-drained gemstone, his gaze lingering with satisfaction on the number six behind the source point on his panel—a small swell of contentment blooming in his chest.

Since that first time he broke through as a martial artist by relying on the source point, proving the power of effort, Liu Tian had been hoarding his points, refraining from using them.

Firstly, because source points were rare; secondly, because at present, there was nothing truly pressing that required their use.

Under Tiandao’s training, Liu Tian advanced steadily, step by step, growing stronger—not as swiftly as with points, but not slowly either. He encountered no bottlenecks nor situations demanding extraordinary exertion.

Whether adding points now or in the future, Liu Tian's intuition told him the theoretical improvement should be the same. So, it was more worthwhile to save the points for when progress inevitably slowed, rather than spend them now while he could still advance steadily.

What’s more, his access to source energy was limited; even if he expended all his points, he might not break through to the Fighter rank. And even if he did, at best he’d be the equivalent of a walking, automatic rifle. There was no need to force the issue at this stage.

After all, there were three steps: Initiate, Martial Artist, Fighter. Liu Tian had only just taken his second step; the road ahead was long and winding. How could he afford to charge ahead recklessly?

Brother Bai, the man he’d just met, didn’t look like a good person, but he was surprisingly generous.

As Liu Tian walked home, he pondered his recent encounter with Bai.

There was no doubt about it—this was a man of immense, overwhelming strength.

That pure, domineering will and crystal-clear killing intent—when Bai had appeared before him, Liu Tian had felt as though his very life and death were no longer his own to command.

To reach that level, purely in terms of source points, he guessed it would take at least a hundred.

But why? Why, upon seeing Bai, did he feel not only terror and excitement, but also a wild urge—a craving to fight him, to defeat him, to utterly devour him?

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The urge was so intense, as if his very instincts were screaming that if he could take down Bai, if he could consume him completely, he would become stronger—he would achieve a damned, absolute evolution.

This, too, was why Liu Tian had hurriedly left—unlike Tiandao and Bai, both Fighters able to master their own desires, Liu Tian feared that if the impulse grew any stronger, he might not be able to stop himself from attacking Bai.

Even knowing full well that, with his current strength, it would be plain suicide...

Was this the influence of the Martial Path of Slaughter? But if so, why didn’t he feel the same toward his master?

Liu Tian pondered, but before he could reach a conclusion, a sudden unexpected event shattered his train of thought.

...

In this era, where surveillance cameras were not yet everywhere, and though electric lights were gradually becoming commonplace, the deep night remained the best cloak for darkness.

According to incomplete statistics, nearly ninety percent of all crimes in the Kingdom of Hundred Flowers occurred after nightfall.

Because of this, despite the kingdom’s efforts to promote its “City That Never Sleeps,” it simply never took off.

No matter how wild or bold the youth, all were home by ten o’clock. But that didn’t mean they were safe before ten—special circumstances could still bring trouble.

In a shadowy alley, two brawny men carried a struggling burlap sack on their backs. From Liu Tian’s vantage point, with his keen eyesight, even in the dimness he could make out the feminine curves pressed against the coarse fabric.

The men were clearly trained: one grasped the front, the other the rear, moving swiftly and with little noise. They flitted through the labyrinth of alleys, always shrouded in darkness, heading toward a predetermined destination.

Kidnapping.

The word surfaced in Liu Tian’s mind—an ancient trade, with a long, bloody history and a grim fate for most who practiced it.

Originally, during the war, with mass conscription, such incidents had fallen to near zero. But as the war ended, the trained thugs returned to society, and in recent years, as the international situation grew chaotic and many were left bankrupt and jobless, this ancient profession had revived as never before.

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This was one reason Liu Yun had not objected when Liu Tian began to learn martial arts—for at least he could acquire the strength to protect himself.

Some joked that ten years of training could not match the twitch of a finger on a gun, but Liu Yun, having seen true martial artists, knew that often, it wasn’t about outrunning bullets, just outrunning men.

What to do?

Liu Tian didn’t have a cell phone, and using a phone booth to call the police seemed futile.

Though those targeted for kidnapping were usually from well-off families, which meant the police responded faster than usual, the efficiency of this era’s police force was such that, even with a slight improvement, calling them was little more than a formality.

Should he intervene? Or, to avoid trouble, just turn a blind eye?

When he first noticed the scene, Liu Tian had instinctively used the stealth techniques Tiandao had taught him, following at a distance, but he hadn’t yet decided whether to step in—he merely wanted to keep his options open.

The alleys grew more numerous, abandoned buildings more frequent, and streetlights more sparse. As Liu Tian hesitated, vacillating, the two men, at some point, had already left the bustling city center and were nearing the slums.

Knowing he could delay no longer, Liu Tian seized a moment, trusted his instincts, and struck.

Once his mind was made up, as a martial artist, thought became action—he unleashed a killing move: Twin Dragons Emerge!

Danger!

As Liu Tian erupted into action, the two thugs, obviously trained, reacted swiftly, dropping the sack and reaching for their waists.

Unfortunately for them, the martial artist’s ability to act as soon as he willed gave Liu Tian a decisive advantage in an ambush. Against two ordinary strongmen, whose hands had barely brushed the steel that gave them confidence, Liu Tian’s fist crashed down on their heads like thunder.

A single powerful blow twisted both their necks with a sharp crack—front became back, back became front, and blood spurted from their contorted throats. Both men died on the spot, slain instantly by that overwhelming force.