Wei Shen stood in the slums beside a growing mountain of corpses. The disciples brought one after the other, throwing them higher onto the pile. He stared at the bloody mess with cold indifference before turning to one of the junior disciples. "Still nothing?"

  The disciple shook his head and said, "Not yet, Senior Brother Wei Shen. Some of the rats looked similar to the portrait Boss Han Lie shared, but we couldn't find anything on their bodies."

  "Dammit," Wei Shen spat. He could see the signs of sunrise already mocking him from afar. "Ignore the consequences and move faster, we need results!"

  Once the sun rose and Han Lie returned to take over the search, all the efforts Wei Shen made to become his loyal follower would go to waste. Neither he nor any of the other junior disciples would remain unscathed.

  Han Lie's status and temper were known to everyone in the sect—one did not attract his ire and rejoice. But that's what made everyone so eager to follow him, for the opposite could be true as well. Through loyalty, they could gain an opportunity to join his ranks.

  "Senior Brother Wei Shen! We found him! The thief is in Emberwood Forest. Our brothers are pursuing him now."

  Wei Shen's expression turned joyful as he stared down the panting disciple. "Good work, Junior Brother! Hunt him down, immediately. Send more of our brothers quickly into the forest, no mercy for the rat before Boss Han Lie returns!"

  ...

  Meanwhile, while the disciples were running about frantically, burning the slums and hunting Feng Han through Emberwood Forest, Han Lie sat in a sprawling pavilion drinking tea.

  Despite his previous display of anger, Han Lie seemed uninterested in the pursuit or the results of Wei Shen's hunt. He stared at the clear sky as the golden streaks of sunrise mounted over the distant horizon.

  "Young Master, you were too negligent," Han Kui sighed, a melancholic tone tinging his hollow voice. He sat across from Han Lie, resembling a skeleton more than any man. "Losing the relic is one thing, but being so loud about it will just attract ol' Iron and ol' Gold."

  He continued, "I don't mean to lecture you, but even if we wipe out the rat before the others sniff out that something's wrong, it'll be difficult to justify the damage done."

  Han Lie looked at Han Kui nonchalantly, dismissing his worries. "So what? This is why you haven't broken through yet, Third Uncle. You worry too much about unnecessary things. Allowing them to even exist should be enough grace for a lifetime. Who are they to question us?"

  "You can't say that, Young Master!" Han Kui said worriedly. "Their backers may not be as big as our Han Family, but they still have connections that can create issues for your mother and father."

  He continued, "There's also the mayor. He acts tolerant, but there's a limit even to his patience."

  Han Lie scoffed, "Enough, Third Uncle. Just follow the orders you've been given. You don't need to think too much, all is for the Han Family. Forget about it, tell me what you've discovered about the kid."

  "Is it really an order from Elder Brother?" Han Kui questioned, but he quickly waved his hands awkwardly. "Not to doubt your words, Young Master. Forget I asked."

  Han Kui sighed helplessly, "The mortal is Feng Han. He's eighteen as of some months ago, born and raised in the slums. Parents supposedly died a decade ago at the hands of loan sharks. He has two sisters whom he's taken care of since he was young."

  "He does odd jobs around the city, sometimes above-board and other times resorting to thievery or immoral acts as the situation calls for it. The city's guards have recorded several encounters with him over the years; however, it seems whenever they set their sights on him, a larger fish falls into their laps."

  Han Lie set down his teacup, pondering silently as Han Kui brought up Feng Han's history as if it were a well-known tale written on every parchment.

  "So, he's quite fortunate, for a mortal," Han Lie said, his face cold and thoughtful. "Isn't that rather interesting, Third Uncle? Luck is a skill, no matter how much others dismiss it. Fate is something that can't be denied. Fools die quick, but the fated struggle for every breath."

  Han Lie rapped his fingers on the table, chuckling as he thought of the confident expression Feng Han had while taking his coin pouch. "We'll proceed as is. I was debating whether he was the one, but I've hesitated too long already."

  "About that, Young Master... is it, is it actually an Immortal Relic you brought out for this?"

  Han Lie stiffened, his eyes turning icy as he glared at Han Kui. "Idiot! Don't speak nonsense so openly."

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Han Kui lowered his head shamefully, but in the hollow grooves of his eyes, fury seethed. Han Lie was from the main branch of the family, but to Han Kui, who was countless years his senior, he still wanted respect. "You're right, Young Master. I apologize."

  Han Lie leaned back, a cold grin on his face. All around, the shadows stirred, shifting like flickering flames.

  Not long after, several disciples ran in to report. "Sect Leader, we've located the thief. He's in Emberwood Forest!"

  "Great," Han Kui snorted, his annoyance finally finding a way to vent as he slammed his palm against the table. "How many are after him? And have you sent more to join them?"

  "There are only three currently. Two in the first layer and one in the third layer of body forging, but many more of our brothers are rushing to pincer the thief."

  "They're not allowed to be careless," Han Kui spat. "If any of you are careless, I'll skin you alive and crush your bones with my Frozen Flame Palm Technique. Make haste, and capture the damned thief."

  "Yes, Sect Leader!"

  ...

  Meanwhile, in Emberwood Forest, Feng Han ran desperately, shuffling through the overgrown branches as they flogged his flesh.

  "Dammit, to hell with all of you bastards," he cursed, spitting on his misfortune and those who pursued him. He had barely gone five miles from the caverns, only to find disciples of the Frozen Flame Sect running about.

  "Stop chasing, seriously," Feng Han shouted, his voice cracking from exhaustion. "I left the pouch in the city, I swear! You can collect it from the slums."

  "Moron, like hell we'd believe that."

  "You damned rat, stop running, and we'll check if you're telling the truth from your corpse."

  "Just give up. Why waste the little time you have left living on running?"

  "Yeah, yeah. Unlucky street rat, why did you steal from Boss Han Lie of all people? Stop and present your neck, we'll make it painless."

  "Fuck," Feng Han spat, his voice barely audible as he cursed their dog-like stubbornness.

  Was that careless bastard that special? Why didn't you protect your things better, then? Fuck!

  The disciples sneered, their killing intent palpable as they chased after Feng Han. The gap between them was barely a gap at all as their forged bodies made their speed noticeably faster than Feng Han's.

  Feng Han's heart was pounding against his chest, but he launched off his dominant foot and slid down a slope. As he reached the mid-point, he pushed off and grabbed a vine, flinging himself forward.

  The disciples tried to imitate his actions, but they stumbled against each other, tumbling down the slope instead. "Bastard!"

  As their screams rang, Feng Han continued weaving through the overgrowth, widening the gap between himself and his pursuers. He may have been a street rat, but he never said he hadn't done his fair share of odd jobs in the forest.

  Idiots.

  The strongest of the disciples picked himself up the quickest; the dread of disappointing Wei Shen and Han Lie sounded in his mind as he ran after Feng Han. He was in the third layer of body forging, ranking him in the top one hundred of Outer Disciples. He wasn't willing to let a mortal run circles around him.

  Feng Han noticed him quickly and turned ahead, slipping past a narrow gap between two large Emberwood trees. The disciple followed, confidence on display as he ignored the obscured vision and density of branches in his way.

  As he jumped through the gap, he heard a snap, and his vision flurried with little specks of light. He dropped to his knees, howling and screaming.

  Feng Han stood over him, breathing hastily and clenching his fist. It stung. Bloodied and torn knuckles from the force of the punch, but he smiled coldly at the writhing disciple. "You should be more careful. The forest's a dangerous place for children."

  Hearing Feng Han's mockery, the disciple, Huang Bo, roared. His eyes burned with fury as he spread his arms and lunged forward, screaming, "You're courting death!"

  Feng Han waited for that moment and spun with all the momentum he could gather, kicking him in the ribs.

  "Idiot. If you're going to fight, you have to protect your vitals."

  Footsteps sounded from afar, a good sign for Feng Han, who quickly dove into the forest once more.

  Not long after, the other disciples appeared and found their companion unconscious. "Wake up, Huang Bo!"

  "Huh, what, Mother? Is that you?" Huang Bo slurred, confusion dancing across his vision.

  "Is it possible for your mother to be as handsome as I am?"

  Huang Bo groaned, slapping himself across the face with an open palm as clarity returned to him. "Shit, that bastard... He's slippier than an eel and knows the forest well."

  "So what? He's just a mortal still. There's no time for cowardice, Senior Brother. The others will be coming soon."

  "Yeah, yeah, I know. We have to continue chasing the rat. Wear him out until he's begging to die."

  Further away, Feng Han shivered as if cold ice ran down his spine, a foreboding sense tickling his nerves. He panted, exhaustion weighing heavily on him. He didn't know how much longer he could run, but he had to keep going.

  Soon... just a little more and the Beast Pits should be ahead. Bastards, don't you know not to corner a desperate animal?

  Feng Han reached a wide-open clearing surrounded by leafy underbrush and signs of endless struggle. He left traces, deliberate and heavy, before retracing his steps quietly and moving in the opposite direction.

  He hid low and quiet, biding his time and restraining his breathing. He knew if he ran, the noise alone would ruin his plan. But by waiting at the heart of danger, he'd find the perfect opportunity to strike.

  Come, bastards. Hurry. You're cultivators, not immortals! I'll show you how the streets fight.