Bizarre Fate: An Urban Crime Xianxia

Unsurprisingly, it turned out that the Sect provided their disciples with a thorough education in martial arts. I’d thought my best bet was to hold off the kid long enough for my friends to sneak Bruno out. After that, I could book it. But Otsu was competent and easily kept pace with my blows and kicks, somehow able to test every hole in my defense with his jabs.

Each of my punches shook the small boy. So I played a careful game of trying not to take too much damage accidentally but not hit hard enough to end the fight by accident.

So it was that Otsu turned to his Soul Ability before I broke out mine.

He pounded his fists together and the air bent inward in a swirl at the point of contact. An invisible membrane wrapped around his fists. I shifted between my feet, that familiar sense of unease infesting me like it did whenever an unknown Soul Seed came into play. You could never tell what someone might have up their sleeve—and based on Otsu’s grin, chances were that I’d gotten too cocky about this fight. I needed to buy more time.

“Outsider, witness this. This is what separates the Sects from the rogue cultivators. We’re built on a strong foundation, which carries us farther than you can imagine.”

“Seen plenty of Soul Seeds, got my own, and I can say it’s more about how ya use it than what it is that determines if someone is strong.” I gave him a grin I didn’t feel. He scowled. If I could keep him off balance with anger, I’d have an easier time drawing the fight out.

But if he was turning to his Soul Seed, I needed to step my game up. A burst of azure and crimson came from both of my shoulders. My Crows let out a grating caw as they appeared in a bolt of energy. Otsu teetered, obviously not expecting me to be past his stage.

“Aw, ya aint broken past the first stage yet? Tsk, tsk. Here I’d thought all disciples woulda been able to move on with their eyes closed—yet you aint even faced your first heavenly tribulation? Guess the Getsu sect aint all it’s cracked up to be.” Otsu took a couple of steps away, eyes darting between the two Crows I Manifested.

My instincts screamed at me to rush and take advantage of his hesitation. Were I looking for a victory, this might’ve been a breakthrough moment in the fight, but I wasn’t. Let him tarry. Each second he was afraid to face off against me was a blessing. Even if I lost this fight, I’d be happy as long as my friend got free. Fukui frowned as she watched from a distance, her arms crossed.

Finally, Otsu shook his head and threw himself into the fight. Encouraged by the fact I didn’t launch into an attack, he was able to regain that spark of pride and confidence in his abilities. The boy rushed me, and I backpedaled, careening one of my Crows to his side and directing it to dig in with his claws. I didn’t want to hurt him seriously, but I still needed to make an impact.

Otsu’s fist shot out at my Crow, but my Crow quickly tipped out of the way with its agility and superior mobility. Then the air rippled outward from the fist—pulling it off its trajectory and changing its course directly into the blow. The fist crunched into my Crow’s sternum and sent it spiraling outward to smash into the road. I gasped as a needle of pain jabbed into my chest.

“Not so tough now, are you? Bow scoundrel, apologize to Elder Sister Fukui, then maybe I’ll let you off without too many bruises.”

My Crow managed to get to its feet. Wounded but not out of the fight, the sudden lancing pain in my Soul subsided to a more manageable dull ache. I grimaced and looked at the bald kid, the annoying brat. Fine. I didn’t care about face. I didn’t have anything to prove to him or Fukui. All I had was a single goal.

I turned around and took off down the road.

“Coward!” Otsu screamed. He was still in range of my Manifested Soul even as I increased the distance. All of his attention focused on my fleeing back. I directed my still flying crow to perform a quick dive—based on the scream, and I could tell it landed the hit; I turned and flipped him two middle fingers.

“Take that, ya fucking Sect loser! Can’t even hit me!”

That was enough to get him off his ass. Still clenching his bleeding face, the bald boy took off in a sprint to catch up. Fukui followed along her face a mix of amusement and concern. I began to take off at a jog again. I’d turned this fight into a run and gun skirmish.

As Otsu followed, I had my Crows take high-speed pot-shots, making him dodge and sacrifice speed to avoid blows from Fickle Fate. When they did land a blow, I didn’t have them deal real damage. Instead, I shot him up with good or bad luck. At this distance, hitting him with a dose of good luck held no consequences for me, but the bad luck made him trip.

Poor fucker chased me a mile down the road, taking nicks all along the way.

Then he wizened up and started lashing back. His fists discharged and got closer to hitting my crows, then he nailed the timing—smashing one of my Manifest Souls. It made it hard to keep running, but I pushed forward, letting my last Crow fly far above the fight. I wasn’t willing to risk him taking that one out too. We made our way further and further from the Sect.

It ended rather undramatically, with my Crow landing a hit on his back after I faked a last stand scenario to catch him off guard. Otsu received a dose of bad luck and fell on his face. Worn down by a dozen wounds, the boy struggled to push himself up. Given our distance from the Sect, I decided to end it, rushing forward and snapping a foot into his side, knocking him out of the fight.

I huffed, leaning on my knees next to the immobile Otsu. Fukui looked at me with a strange expression, giving me a curled smile. “Not the bravest fight I’ve ever seen.”

“Who the fuck cares about bravery?”

“Many would say that how one wins holds just as much importance as winning.”

“Those people are fucking stupid.” I wiped my brown, dug in my pocket for a smoke, and lit it. Fukui didn’t seem interested in revenging her fellow disciple, and if she did, I was too fucked to defend myself anyway. Otsu was still breathing, and I bet half the exhaustion resulted from abusing his Soul Seed repeatedly as he figured out the timing to catch my Crows. Still, he kept going for surprisingly long. Tough little fucker. “Win’s a win.”

“Uh-huh. So, when shall you be taking my hand in marriage?” Fukui batted her eyes, and the cigarette fell from my lips. A second later, the girl covered her mouth and stifled a laugh. “Thanks for the entertainment. Today has been dreadfully boring. I don’t believe I caught your name, outsider.”

“Er—“ she was fucking with me. But I didn’t see any harm in being honest; besides, she hadn’t gotten pissed over me beating up her junior. “Luca.”

“Well, given you’ve caused all this, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind helping me to carry my fellow disciple back to our gate.” She gave me a pointed look, and I rolled my shoulders. I took a long look at the knocked out brat.

“Ya know what? Fine. Why not?” I crouched over and tossed him on my shoulder. Even after exhausting myself through the fight, I managed to haul him. I didn’t have much stake in hating the Getsu Sect when it came down to it. My hate only dwelled with one shit-stain of a young master. Something about this tough little bastard made an impression on me, and it wasn’t like Otsu or Fukui had any say over the behavior of the privileged in their Sect.

People scrambled every year to join the Sect during their trials. Very few found acceptance, and it’d been a blanket prejudice to dismiss those who got in as privileged. I imagined some of them spent blood, sweat, and tears to get their spots.

My brief but pleasant conversation with Fukui on the way back caught me by surprise. From her stories, they’d received a good education in the Sect—outer disciples like her didn’t have a much more luxurious life than mortals in the city. They labored on behalf of the inner and core members. Occasionally the ‘privileged’ like the young master, belittled and even mocked them due to their position on the lowest rung.

Don’t get me wrong, from what she described as her life, the streets of New Valentine were much more dangerous. Switching up your life for a cozy spot and a chance to utilize their assets would change your life as a cultivator. It made sense why people tried so hard to get in. But for me, that sort of life would bore me out of my mind.