Martial King's Retired Life

The capital wasn’t prepared to handle the number of unorthodox factions that poured in. Numbers aside, the unorthodox factions usually kept low profiles as they went about their business as opposed to strolling through the streets blithely as they now did. As a result, there were increasing cases of conflicts in the capital.

Assuming that unorthodox factions only caused bloodshed problems was a fallacy. Owing to their activity in the capital, the usually quiet underground businesses, such as gambling dens, smuggling businesses, brothels and even human trafficking businesses started to be more blatantly active. All of a sudden, the peace of the capital seemed nothing more than a fleeting dream of days gone by.

For the last fortnight, one of the hottest topics in the capital that seemingly spawned out of thin air was the “bronze mask” topic. One sunny afternoon, a group of people passed by a busy bar. Out of nowhere, blood was spilt, and a head went soaring into the ether. According to subsequent investigations, the victim was but an ordinary merchant who chose to take a shortcut on the way home. He was said to not have any enemies. Most strangely, though, was the account that witnesses provided. They said that they just suddenly saw a head rise up into the sky as though a ghost removed his head and then levitated. In addition, there was an eerie mist that accompanied the motion. In the middle of the day. On a sunny afternoon.

Investigators, including Liu Shan Men’s Vice-Captain Shen, had no clue where to start because they couldn’t find any leads.

On another day, a butcher shaved the meat of some skin, then passed over the bones to his customer. The customer took the bones, smiled and looked up to ask for some offal, as well. Never did he expect to be splashed in the face and neck with warm red liquid, making his smile freeze stiff on his face. Standing opposite him was a headless chubby body. Only when the corpse fell forward onto the meat did the customer shriek.

Once again, the witness couldn’t explain to investigators how it happened.

Identical cases subsequently occurred after that day. Some victims were orthodox sect members. Some were unorthodox faction members. Some were ordinary civilians. The only common denominators between the cases were that they all took place in the middle of the day and in the presence of many witnesses. If it could be considered one, the third common denominator would be that none of the witnesses saw how the victims were beheaded.

Following a dozen-odd cases, the “a nefarious wind is on a murder spree” headline spread. No matter how much effort law enforcement offices tried to assert that there was an actual human criminal, their inability to explain the mysteries failed to convince people that they were telling the truth.

The case remained shrouded in a veil of mystery until one of the victims was someone with a sense of justice as strong as he was. While there was no circumstantial evidence to substantiate his claim, he claimed to have fought with the culprit. When he was found, he still had his head attached and wasn’t dead. The rank sixteen Hidden Dragon Qilin Guard, despite lying in his own pool of blood and being disfigured, muttered to the people who found him, “Bronze… mask…”

***

He was the only entity to exist in his dream.

Ming Feizhen learnt to enter the empty plane many years ago. Nonetheless, it was only possible, and subject to a chance of failure, to enter the plane via his dreams once he lost access to his martial arts abilities.

Inside the plane, Ming Feizhen could replay his past encounters and experiences. There was his shifu, shiniangs, grandmaster, siblings, Ol’ Ximen, Yan Shisan, Zhile, his young shiyi, Boss Shen, Tang Ye, Su Xiao and her.

She looked especially lonely standing by herself in the vacant white plane. It wasn’t cold in the plane, yet Ming Feizhen couldn’t help feeling she was standing in a land of ice and snow. He took a step forward to get a closer look at her face, but the plane collapsed, kicking him back to reality.

Upon opening his eyes, Ming Feizhen saw two people. “Heh, you two? Lame.”

The man carrying a broadsword on his waist seemed to have ants in his pants. Right now, his eyes were as red as those of a man who just committed murder and understandably so. He was supposed to wake Ming Feizhen up, but nothing worked until the tall handsome man in a black robe did – not to mention he did it with a single poke.

“Son of… I-I’m going to kill you. I…”

“I was looking forward to meeting you,” the man in black pushed the irritated man aside, “but not under these circumstances.”

“I, on the other hand, don’t want to see you. You kidnapped me,” replied Ming Feizhen.

The antsy man snapped. “I’ve never seen anyone with one foot in his coffin as cocky as you.”

Ming Feizhen leaned back. “If you were going to kill me, you should’ve slit my throat, not woke me up. We done? If we are, I’m going back to sleep.”

The tall man conveyed, “I have something to say to you. It’s up to you whether you sleep or not, of course.”

“Speak.”

“Do you remember who I am?”

“No.”

The tall man smiled. “I remember you, though. I’ve seen you around a few times, but this is our first time conversing. I’m disappointed, however. I never thought you’d have lost all your skills.”

If he didn’t have Ming Feizhen’s attention yet, he did now.

“How can someone like you ever part with martial arts? It’d be no different to torture. Or did you shifu fail to teach you just as I couldn’t teach my disciple, Mount Daluo’s Ming Feizhen?”

“I suddenly have an urge to know who’s speaking to me.”

“My name is Jiang Chen. I’m currently one of the people in charge of Fiends’ Genesis. It’s nice to meet you, Ming Feizhen.”