Era of Mist

The closing speed was just too fast. There was no room to dodge or react. All Shi Tiexin could do was raise the long steel pipe again and point it toward the outlined figure behind the dazzling headlight.

He didn’t even have to exert himself to thrust. It would all be over in an instant. In that fleeting moment as they crossed paths, it was either kill or be killed.

"Heavenly Punishment!"

THUD!

He got another one!

From the impact that traveled up the steel pipe, Shi Tiexin felt like he had shattered something, but there was no time to check. The third sword was already slashing down, hot on their heels.

’The pipe is out of position, and there’s no time to ready it again!’

"Heav—"

WHOOSH. The biker accelerated, and the flash of a blade zipped past Shi Tiexin’s ear. He could even feel the chill as it passed, close enough to make the fine hairs on his skin stand on end.

The fourth rider!

Before the man could speak, Shi Tiexin gritted his teeth and swung. Another wisp of primal vital essence materialized from his gut as the steel pipe whistled through the air in a horizontal sweep, smashing into the rider’s front tire with a heavy THUD.

The rider was sent sprawling, only to be run over by his own allies on their motorcycles one after another.

WHOOSH, WHOOSH. A torrent of motorcycles swept past. By the time Shi Tiexin came to his senses, his vision had cleared. He had somehow punched straight through the enemy’s formation. Though they had more than a dozen riders, only a few could engage him head-on at any given time. In the blink of an eye, he had broken through their lines.

*Pant... Pant...* Shi Tiexin couldn’t stop himself from gasping for breath, a cold sweat breaking out all over him.

This wasn’t a duel between Martial Artists. There were no mystical realms here—if you died, you were just dead. He had no idea how he’d managed to fight his way out. Perhaps it was thanks to the conditioning from his long years of martial arts practice, or perhaps he owed it to this body’s instincts. Whatever the reason, his mind had gone completely blank in the heat of the moment, devoid of all fear. But thinking back on it now, he couldn’t stop the sweat from pouring down his back.

But this was no time for reflection. He looked back and saw the enemy riders clashing with his own men. Because Shi Tiexin had blunted their initial charge, his crew had been given a precious moment to react, and they were all pulling out the weapons they kept on their bikes.

Weapons like steel pipes, chains, and baseball bats—more than enough for a real-life game of Road Rash.

But when it came to the ruthless efficiency and cold-blooded cruelty of killing without a second thought, Shi Tiexin’s men couldn’t gain the upper hand in a slaughter where life and death were decided in an instant.

"Aaaah—!"

"Xiaowu—!"

"Damn it! I’ll take you bastards on!"

In a single exchange, many people went down—enemies and his own men alike. Amid the flickering lights and shadows, Shi Tiexin couldn’t see clearly. But on his driving interface, he could see some of the outlined human figures suddenly split from one whole into two separate pieces.

"Bastards!"

Shi Tiexin’s rage flared, and he once again forgot his fear. With a screech of rubber on pavement that sent up a puff of blue smoke, his motorcycle fishtailed a full 180 degrees. He gunned the engine and charged back into the fray.

The steel pipe in his hands was thick and long, but for Shi Tiexin, it was just right. He was like a famed general of old, sweeping his pipe horizontally, each strike vicious and deadly.

’Dammit,’ he thought, ’I’ve never learned any proper staff techniques! If I had, I’d smash every single one of these bastards’ heads in!’

Shi Tiexin steeled his resolve. He knew he couldn’t land a precise hit on the riders themselves at this speed, so he decided to take out the horse to get the man. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! He struck out again and again with the long pipe, either smashing it into front tires or jamming it directly into the wheel spokes. Relying on his height, long reach, and heavy pipe, Shi Tiexin wasn’t afraid to get in close, and he quickly sent several riders and their bikes tumbling.

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream rang out from just ahead. Shi Tiexin looked up just in time to see one of his own men decapitated by a single slash.

It was Green-hair!

His green-haired head, its face twisted in a silent scream of agony, tumbled through the air. The resulting spray of blood was a shocking sight. The killer was just a short distance away, clad in red armor and wearing a snarling, long-nosed Celestial Dog Mask. He looked like a Samurai from the Warring States period of Japan who had been transported to the present day to ride a motorcycle.

He held his blood-stained Samurai Sword high as he sped along, laughing maniacally and shouting something in a foreign tongue.

In that instant, something inside Shi Tiexin snapped.

"KILL—!"

VROOOOM! The Black Venerable roared as the motorcycle shot forward like a rabid beast. The man turned his head, about to shout another foreign phrase, only to see Shi Tiexin hurl the long steel pipe straight at him.

Shi Tiexin unleashed all of his remaining primal vital essence into the throw. The pipe flew with incredible force, the wind whistling around it. CLANG! A deafening crash rang out as the Samurai blocked the pipe with his sword. A shower of sparks exploded, and the sword was knocked from his grasp. The man himself was stunned, momentarily paralyzed. In a panic, he looked up just in time to see the Black Venerable pop a wheelie, its heavy, massive front tire hurtling toward him with insane kinetic energy.

"DIE!!"

THUMP. The man was sent flying, crashing hard onto the road.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Shi Tiexin rode straight over him.

KA-THUMP.

KA-THUMP.

The front and rear wheels jolted in succession. The combined weight of man and machine—nearly a thousand pounds—rolled ruthlessly over the body. The thick, sturdy tires seemed to crush something as easily as a cracker.

Just then, the second wave of riders led by Ah Fei arrived, quickly surrounding the remaining enemies.

The clamor of battle flared up, then just as quickly, it was over.

"Don’t just fucking stand there like idiots! You, you, and you—get on guard!" Ah Fei still had some leadership skills, and he hastily started barking orders. "Watch the road in both directions! If we get ambushed again, it’s your asses on the line!"

The men, still shaken from the bloody fight, had lost their earlier recklessness. They obeyed without question.

"Boss, are you okay?!" Mai Ba and Guo Bing rushed to Shi Tiexin’s side. In the blinding glare of a motorcycle headlight, they saw he was covered in blood and grew tense.

But Shi Tiexin’s presence was heavy and solid, as imposing and unmoving as a mountain range. He was like a pillar supporting the heavens, an anchor in a raging sea. He always gave off an unshakable sense of reliability.

After looking him up and down, they realized the blood didn’t seem to be his own and breathed a sigh of relief.

But when Shi Tiexin remained motionless for a long moment, Mai Ba asked quietly, "Boss? What’s wrong?"

Shi Tiexin was staring at a smear of blood and gore on the road.

A moment ago, that smear of gore had been a man in red Samurai armor. Now, he was little more than a paste on the pavement, something that could only be cleaned up with a pressure washer. A deep rut ran across the torso, another across the thighs. The body had been torn into four pieces, shredded and mangled beyond recognition. Only the head remained relatively intact.

The Celestial Dog Mask had fallen off, revealing a young face, its expression twisted into something inhuman.

This wasn’t a fight in some mystical realm.

Here, death was final.

Shi Tiexin stared at the severed head. This was the first person he had ever killed. For an orphan who had struggled for fifteen years, for a scholar who had just placed first in the local civil service exam, for a man who had only been a security guard for a month, for a Jingtuan delivery rider about to start a new life—for that person, this head lying in the dirt was both too overwhelming and too surreal.