Chapter 3
1147 Words
Chapter 3: Wang Ming, the Mortal
The Nineteenth Path of the Underworld—Blur!
Under Cheng Jin’s sharp, watchful gaze, Wang Ming turned around calmly. He lazily extended his right hand, palm facing him, fingers splayed with a sharp intensity.
Whoosh…
For a split second, Cheng Jin felt an overwhelming surge of power rush past him, followed by a weird sensation—like sand grinding into his eyes, making tears stream uncontrollably. He wiped his eyes, dazed, but when he looked back, everything was already blurry. The figure in front of him had split into three, faintly twisting and warping!
Ah!
The distance was too close. Before Cheng Jin could even process what was happening, his body lunged at the three shifting figures. He had no choice but to shout and swing the iron pipe in his hand at one of them.
Whoosh…
In a daze, Cheng Jin swung wildly — but the pipe cut through air just half a step to the right of Wang Ming, who hadn’t moved an inch.
A cold, savage grin spread across Wang Ming’s face as he watched Cheng Jin miss by mere inches. With that grin, Wang Ming raised his right hand slightly, then slashed down sharply, landing a precise blow on the back of Cheng Jin’s neck.
Ugh!
Cheng Jin let out a muffled groan as his momentum snapped. His body went limp and collapsed to the ground—unconscious in an instant. Though Wang Ming hadn’t used much force, his strike was perfect, knocking Cheng Jin out cold.
With a faint sigh, Wang Ming withdrew his hand and slipped it back into his pocket. He lowered his head and started walking toward the alley’s entrance. Fighting and killing bored him to no end.
“How dare he hit my brother! Stop him! Stop him and beat him to death…”
Cheng Gang, half-conscious, croaked out the desperate warning.
At his words, the last two men blocking the alley instinctively reached into their coats, pulling out steel pipes less than a meter long. They raised them cautiously, ready to face Wang Ming as he closed in.
Clack… clack… clack…
Wang Ming, seemingly unaware of the two men ahead, kept his head down, his footsteps ringing sharply through the otherwise silent alley.
Yaaah!
As Wang Ming neared, the two men charged, steel pipes swinging wildly.
They say two fists can’t beat four hands. Even the strongest fighter can be taken down by sheer numbers. It looked like Wang Ming might be no exception—until now. Up to this point, it all seemed like luck, like the clumsy flailing of an amateur.
But then…
Hm?
Hearing their charge, Wang Ming lifted his head just enough to lock eyes with the two attackers. In that instant, all three gazes met.
“The Twenty-First Path of the Ming—Eye of Fear!”
He whispered the words under his breath. Suddenly, his eyes flared with a blood-red light, growing from a faint glow to a blinding blaze. In less than a heartbeat, everything around them went deathly silent…
Clang… clang…
The two men, who’d charged forward moments before, froze in place. Their faces drained of color, bodies trembling like leaves in the wind. They dropped their pipes, which clattered loudly to the ground, and instinctively backed away, eyes wide with terror.
Hmph!
Wang Ming snorted coldly, clearly unimpressed. He kept walking, ignoring the two men as they scrambled to clear his path.
Yaaah… Thud! Thud!
Terrified out of their minds, the two men fell to the ground in panic, scrambling with hands and feet to the edges of the alley, clearing a path for Wang Ming.
He didn’t even glance at them as he passed through the gap and reached the alley’s entrance. Pausing for a moment, he turned his head slightly and said in a chilling tone, “I’m warning you. Don’t mess with me.” Then he vanished from sight.
Watching Wang Ming’s retreating figure, Cheng Gang slammed his fist on the ground in frustration. If he had any strength left, he would’ve chased Wang Ming down and beaten him senseless. But now, his body felt drained—utterly spent.
The whole encounter felt off. First, Cheng Gang suddenly went weak. Then Cheng Jin lost his mind, swinging wildly and leaving his neck exposed. And now…
Cheng Gang couldn’t make sense of it. No matter how hard he tried, it didn’t add up. And those two guys? They’d been with him for over a year—half his “top dog” status came from them. Could they really have turned into cowards? They hadn’t even landed a single hit!
His mind reeled. It had to be a coincidence, right? Maybe the beer he’d had earlier was messing with his head. Yeah, that had to be it. No other explanation.
After lunch, Wang Ming returned to school. He sat at his desk, resting his head on the table, trying to clear his mind.
His family wasn’t well off—his worn Zhongshan suit told the story. He never knew his parents, only his grandmother who raised him alone. Because of that, Wang Ming had grown up faster than most kids his age.
Thinking about his grandmother, who worked herself to the bone, Wang Ming sighed quietly. She relied on a small pension to support him—paying for school, food, everything. Life was tough. They barely scraped by.
At sixteen, Wang Ming knew he couldn’t depend on his grandmother forever. She’d done everything just to get him through high school. College? That was impossible on her meager pension.
After a lot of thought, Wang Ming realized something—besides a few basic necromancy skills and decent grades, he didn’t have much to offer. Neither of those things would get him far.
He sighed again, standing to look absently at the blackboard. His mind raced, wrestling with the same problem he’d been stuck on forever, with no answers.
“Hey!”
A deep, mysterious voice broke his thoughts. “Did you guys hear? There’s a total bombshell in the freshman class this year! Rumor is she’s even in our class! She hasn’t shown up yet, but she’s supposed to arrive this afternoon!”
A few classmates whispered excitedly in a huddle.
Hehe…
Wang Ming smiled faintly. Of course, for sixteen-year-old boys, nothing was more thrilling than the mystery of a girl. The curiosity, the unspoken rules—it all felt like a dream.
Smiling, Wang Ming looked away, feeling a flutter in his chest. Like every other boy his age, he was curious about girls—their beauty, their grace, their scent. He wondered what it would feel like to slowly peel away their layers, to touch their soft skin… to hold them tenderly in his arms.
Let me know if you want it adjusted for tone, style, or anything else!
- Writer
