I Have A Dual World Seal

There are nine people in the room in total.

Four hostages are huddled in the corner, while five gun‑wielding thugs are scattered around.

The one with the pistol, the Second Brother, is standing by the window, though right now he’s stepped a couple of paces closer.

The thug with the Uzi was fiddling with his phone just now; at the moment he’s moved two steps away, but the submachine gun is still slung across his back.

The two thugs with the AK‑47 and the Glock have put away their guns and are moving to grab a makeup artist.

Only the last thug with an AK is standing between the four hostages and the door, gun in hand, held horizontally across his chest, his attention on the surroundings and the hallway outside, still on guard.

Right now Zhao Xiaodao is blocking the way between the makeup artist and the two thugs. After hearing Second Brother’s order, the two have already stepped up, ready to yank Zhao Xiaodao by the hair and drag her aside.

Zhao Xiaodao suddenly raises her head, both hands clenched into fists, five fingers pressed together with the index knuckle protruding, forming the Phoenix Eye Fist.

And then...

Half‑sitting on the floor, Zhao Xiaodao seems to step on a spring—her body snaps up, transforming into a she‑leopard, and in the blink of an eye she’s on top of the two thugs.

Like a viper striking from its hole, like a cloud dragon reaching out its claws, Zhao Xiaodao’s two arms shoot out, precise and vicious, power driving forward in layers, focused down to her fingertips.

Her fists skim past the thugs’ forearms, even trailing two ghostly afterimages; the little fists swell impossibly large in the thugs’ eyes.

"Bang!"

It’s only a soft sound, but it slams into both thugs’ throats.

"Crack..."

"Crack..."

Their throat bones shatter. The two thugs freeze on the spot, eyes bulging, staring at Zhao Xiaodao in sheer terror, unable to believe what they’re seeing.

But their own bodies don’t lie. In an instant the two lose all resistance; the hands they’d reached out slowly withdraw, clutching their throats, faces contorted in pain as they slowly sink to their knees.

"Huh?"

Second Brother at the window and the thug with the Uzi are both stunned for a beat, not even reacting at first.

They’ve been watching this side the whole time and just saw the entire scene play out in full.

The harmless little white rabbit suddenly turning into a man‑killing tigress in a single move.

"What!?"

The next second, the two snap out of it. One raises his pistol; the other reaches back to grab the Uzi slung behind him.

But by now Zhao Xiaodao has already pulled her fists back, snatched the dagger strapped to the right‑hand thug’s thigh, and flicked her arm to throw it.

"Whoosh!"

"Slash!"

"Ah!"

Second Brother stares at the dagger now embedded in his right forearm, the blade having pierced clean through. By reflex he drops the pistol, clutches his arm, and lets out a scream.

On the other side, Zhao Xiaodao steps back half a pace and snaps out a side kick. The second man staggers back, half falling, half flying, crashing into the thug with the Uzi and knocking him away just as he’d gotten a grip on his gun.

Zhao Xiaodao flows in behind the thug, coming in from the side. Her hands shoot out; with a twist and a grab she locks down the thug’s gun hand.

And then...

She leans in, putting her own body weight into it, one hand fixing his joint, the other using his arm as a lever and forcing it down.

"Crack!"

With a crisp snap, the thug’s right arm breaks.

"Ah!"

The thug drops the gun and goes down hard.

The flurry of moves looks long, but in truth it all happens in almost a single instant,

so only now does the last thug with the AK, the one who’s been standing guard with his gun in hand, finally snap out of it. Shocked, he turns his head while raising the rifle, bringing the muzzle to bear on Zhao Xiaodao.

But Zhao Xiaodao has already rolled, hiding herself behind one of the men whose throat she shattered, then pushes his body forward and rushes in.

The thug sees his buddy coming straight at him and, for a moment, doesn’t know if he should pull the trigger.

Everything’s happened too fast. First, he has no idea what state his buddy’s in; second, there are cops outside— they’re supposed to stick together. It’s hard to choose to shoot his own man in that split second.

He hadn’t been paying attention to the whole situation just now, still counting on the others to back him up.

But in that single moment of hesitation, he loses his chance to fire.

Pushing the other man’s body, Zhao Xiaodao surges forward in under a second, slamming straight into the last thug, knocking his muzzle off line and sending him reeling back.

Zhao Xiaodao slides in from the side, one hand clamping down on the hand holding the rifle. Using the other man’s weight, she pins his other arm, then raises her free right hand, once more forming the Phoenix Eye Fist, and drives it down.

"Crack!"

Another throat bone shatters...

By the window, Second Brother is gritting his teeth through the pain, picking up his pistol with his left hand and fumbling to disengage the safety. When he finally looks up, he sees Zhao Xiaodao standing right in front of him.

Second Brother’s gaze tightens; his heart plunges to rock bottom. "Fuck..."

"Bang!"

Zhao Xiaodao whips out a Yin Kick, catching the crouching Second Brother under the jaw. The thug only feels his vision go black, then he flips over and hits the ground, losing consciousness.

When Zhao Xiaodao turns back, she sees the thug with the broken right arm still struggling to adjust, trying to swing the Uzi around to his left so he can fire with his good hand.

Only the sling on the submachine gun is short, his right arm is broken, and not enough time has passed. So while the other four thugs are already down, he’s still desperately trying to reach the gun with his left hand.

So Zhao Xiaodao doesn’t rush. Her expression is calm, posture loose, steps steady as she strolls in, watching the thug with a faint smile on her lips, like she’s...

Walking the red carpet!

The slower Zhao Xiaodao moves, the more frantic the thug gets—and the more frantic he gets, the less he can reach the gun just to his right.

By the time Zhao Xiaodao reaches his side, his whole body is trembling, still straining for the gun, not even daring to look up.

Zhao Xiaodao gives a little shake of her head, hooks the corner of her mouth, and swings a huge open‑handed slap across his face.

"Smack!"

The thug drops on impact, his backward fall knocking over the phone that’s been recording the whole time.

Then he and the phone roll together in a tangle, and in the scramble his nose scrapes right across the screen.

...

With the last guy handled, Zhao Xiaodao dusts off her hands and turns around—only to meet three pairs of wide, shell‑shocked eyes.

"S‑Sister Xiaodao..." the little assistant stammers, "you... you..."

"What about me?"

By now Zhao Xiaodao has fully taken back control of her body. She lifts her brows, looking smug. "Was I cool just now or what?"

"That was insane!" One of the makeup artists can hardly trust her own eyes. "Sister Xiaodao, how are you this badass?"

Zhao Xiaodao squares her shoulders and starts bullshitting with a straight face. "We’re shooting a cop‑and‑robber movie, right? And we’re in South Asia, so of course I had to prepare in advance. I squeezed in some training on the side—didn’t expect it’d actually come in handy."

The little assistant: "..."

The two makeup artists: "..."