Li Wentao removed his jacket, and folded it over the back of his chair, smoothing the lapels before straightening up his shirt. He rolled his sleeves to his elbow and then looked Daniel's direction.

  "You know," Li Wentao said, "I trained that girl since she could walk. She was supposed to be the best, inherit everything I had, and then continue my work. But like many things. She could never quite live up to my expectations."

  He looked towards Daniel.

  "And she was never as cruel as I would have liked her to be. Tearing out your own body to gain every advantage. You would have been great boss."

  "Shut up and fight," replied Daniel. He spat blood and went for the sword at his back. He popped it open from the walking stick, drawing it from the sheath. He had never known swordplay, but he was hurt. God knows how many Tiger Claws he could use while spitting out blood. If he was better than Li Mei. He needed a weapon. The blade resonated in his hands, nearly vibrating itself awake.

  "Hah, do you even know how to use that?" laughed Li Wentao.

  He motioned one of the men, and they brought a sword to him. This one was flexibly thin. One with a single character on its blade.

  Rain.

  "The Seven Swords of Wudang. Each representing a vital cycle of nature. It took years to dig this one out of a flood when it was lost years ago but when a fisherman found it, it was said to have shined bright even in the water."

  Li Wentao drew.

  Light rays from the sword flashed, touching the floor as if drops of rain. It struck right above Daniel's sword, flexing as if a winding willow, the tip curved around and lightly touched him on the ribs, leaving a speck of blood on his shirt.

  It didn't move like any sword at all, rather like a flexible piece of steel that seemed to wrap around him like a living creature.

  What the fuck.

  Daniel swung, tightening his grip, but Li Wentao simply parried it off to the side, flicking the sword. It struck Daniel again on the opposite angle. The sound of a raindrop could be heard at every contact, a subtle ring, like spattering water on metal.

  This was something else. Mythical swords were truly unique.

  Light flashed at dizzying speed. If he took his eyes off the sword for more than a second, he had no doubt Li Wentao would probably try to cut off his head.

  How do I even beat something I can't even block?

  Daniel swung, but all his attempts were clumsy, even as he adjusted, they seemed always two or three steps slower than the actual movement.

  "Swords aren't something you can master in a day," laughed Li Wentao. "You want to use everything you got to kill me. Good. But even if you have the talent, the flexible movements."

  The sword swung wide, then high.

  "The straight and narrow thrusts."

  Sword flashes came all around him like a tornado. Leg. Arms. Hips. He felt as if his guts were being torn apart by the wind.

  "The grace and guile of a quick wrist."

  Li Wentao's hands spun the sword, warping it into angles that defied space. It could go low but strike him on his cheek.

  "Are all skills that took even the greatest masters a lifetime to master," replied Li Wentao. He touched the sword, admiring the shimmering quality of the blade.

  "With his pen, he can pacify the realm; With a sword, he can dominate the world. Don't overestimate yourself, even talent has its limits."

  Daniel adjusted his grip. Don't look at the sword. The sword isn't the asshole trying to kill you. His eyes glanced at Li Wentao, focusing on the hand itself.

  This time when Li Wentao swung. Daniel did the same, flexing his wrist so that it'd catch him in the same spot. The blade struck, ringing as they collided together.

  "Oh? Are you copying me now? What is this skill?"

  Li Wentao flicked the same move again. Daniel matched it, and their blades locked at the guard, steel pressing against steel. For a half-second they were chest to chest, both swords trapped between them.

  "But if you're just copying my moves, that makes it easier for me to do this."

  Li Wentao's free hand shot forward and grabbed Daniel's wrist. He twisted his hips, pulled Daniel's arm across his body, and threw him overhead. Daniel's fingers came off the grip somewhere mid-air and he hit the tile hard, sliding on the floor.

  It was all a fake. He had made Daniel copy his moves just to get close enough to disarm him.

  "And like that it's over. The swords," he said motioning one of the other thugs nearby. They took both from his hand.

  "Finally. The True Yang and the Raindrop Sword. We can leave this place."

  Li Wentao was already walking toward the door. Two of his men flanked him, one carrying both swords wrapped in cloth.

  "We're done here," said Li Wentao. "Kill them both. If he won't join us, there is no point in leaving him alive."

  "Stop," said Daniel, spitting more blood and getting up. "I didn't lose yet, you fucker."

  Daniel's hands formed Tiger Claws.

  Li Wentao stared at him. Then he laughed.

  "Tiger Claw? Against me?"

  Daniel ran forward. His right claw drove straight at Li Wentao's chest. The two men on Li Wentao's side merely moved back to a safer distance.

  "Fine."

  Li Wentao's back coiled, his shoulders hunched over as if holding back a ferocious swipe. He stomped the ground, spiraling his fist, leaving a great impression, and then his hand came up. Their fists collided two times, swiping the air, but the last one blasted completely through and sent Daniel nearly tumbling backwards as it splintered the ground.

  No way….

  Li Wentao was using his move. Hungry Tiger Claw. Only his version was greater than any of his attempts at the warehouse. A massive gorge nearly seven feet across the ground versus his three feet.

  "Why the look? Surely, you didn't think I couldn't fight you with my fists?"

  Li Wentao looked around.

  "Ah, I know what it is. It is this, isn't it?"

  Li Wentao made a claw motion.

  "Looks similar, doesn't it? Did you not think about our name?"

  Black Tiger Society.

  "I donated that old thing to the museum months ago, hoping to catch the scent of whoever gave them the Wudang Manuals on Pressure Points. I had almost forgotten about it, but it seems like you've learned straight from it? How does it compare? My move, to yours?"

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Better. Worse than better, it was greater in every way.

  Tiger's move without a Tiger's body. That's what Li Qinghua had told him earlier while they were training. Perhaps, he didn't have the strength to bring out its full potential. So, was this what happened when you used the Tiger Claw with the body of a real Tiger?

  But it wasn't over yet.

  Focus. Clear your head. Don't get distracted.

  "Hah, haven't lost your spirit yet. Then what about this?"

  Li Wentao came forward before Daniel had finished getting up. His stance shifted into a completely different move. This looked like skill Li Qinghua was using in the courtyard. Long wide sweeping motions, that seemed to curl back onto itself in a circular pattern. Claim space and then deflect.

  He gave three exchanges before a palm strike connected with Daniel's chest and sent him back four feet. He hit a table and knocked it sideways.

  "My father was Wudang. After the Great War. I was just a kid when he was killed trying to return to the mountain, so I went to Qingcheng first since they were closest sect to ours.

  Their elder sat me down and told me what happens on one's mountain is that mountain's business. Qingcheng does not involve itself in other people's matters. But what kind of answer is that? Wudang led the charge against the Japanese. All our fucking people are dead, leaving just the children.

  My father told me all the time that the Great Sects were made to protect the helpless, then why was I abandoned? I returned several years later and took his head. A fool like that doesn't deserve to exist."

  The stance changed. Low and compact, each arm covering huge distance. It was as if a flower, bloomed in the mountains, weathering wind and rain alike. Resilient in the small space it claimed on the cliffside. Everything pushed Daniel further away. He couldn't close the gap. Every time he stepped in, a short punch would redirect him back out.

  "It is said compassion is the trait of all Buddhist sects, then what of Emei the sister sect of Wudang. The only sect that only accepted women. Founded in the same era, in Sichuan?"

  Daniel reeled.

  If Qingcheng invited one in. Emei kept everyone at a distance.

  "But what crueler person is there but a woman? The world doesn't give a fuck whether you're a woman or a man. Will someone trying to kill you give you a chance just because you are a girl?

  Ruthless to others. And ruthless towards themselves. Can you believe what they told me. A ten year old child? You are a man, so solve your own problems. Why should we concern ourselves with you when men cause all of the problems in the world.

  So just because I'm a man, you don't give a fuck about me? Mercy to women. What about children? What the fuck do I know about the world at ten years old? Why should I give out mercy when I was never shown any? If men cause all the problems, then let me show them what a terrible man I am then."

  The stance changed again. Extremely explosive, each fist blasting apart the air as if a blooming flower. Fists that would stack upon each other like a rolling blast, flourishing into combinations that snapped Daniel left and right, as if caught in a gale.

  "Huashan. The mountain filled with peach blossom trees. Our two sects were so close, as close as you are to your friend. For hundreds of years, we called them our closest friend. But when their sect master died, it was as if all our friendship evaporated into thin air.

  They told me plainly. The world is in chaos; we cannot afford to help you. Warlords have taken up arms. We will do more good helping the common people, than helping out a single kid. What the fuck is that? So, every move is to be calculated? Every relationship to be judged on when it matters the most?

  If you can't help a single child. Then how the fuck do you expect to help the world."

  The last hit sent Daniel to his knees.

  "You have seen it. You ever wonder why Jianghu is ruthless? Full of killers, thieves, and misfits? It's because the real world is full of people who don't give a fuck about anyone but themselves.

  Martial artists are ruthless because that's all there is. Peace? That's because someone killed all the fuckers in their way till it was only their word above all else. And so what now? You're playing the part of a hero despite all reason telling you otherwise? If you had any sense, you would have never come."

  Li Wentao stepped closer.

  "That is the issue with you foreigners. Always playing the savior, thinking they know better, without knowing anything at all. Americans can play the peacemaker, but that's only because everyone that could cause them problems are already fucking dead or under their heel."

  Li Wentao stood above him.

  "Or will you give me some talk about morals, some Christian belief about how the world doesn't work like that. If we all talked together, everything will be alright?"

  Daniel stood up. His fists were still clenched. He looked at them. Shaking, bloody at the knuckles, gripping nothing. He'd been gripping nothing this whole fight.

  He looked at Li Wentao.

  His hands opened. The fists just stopped holding.

  He was tired. He'd thrown everything at this man. Rage. Swords. All of it. What was there left? Did he do his best? Did he change from that kid that would have kept his head down in school.

  He looked at Li Wentao, his eyes raging in the back of his mind. There was a subtle change in his expression, the look that seemed so familiar to him, yet strange to see in another person.

  Ah…he's just like me.

  It was hard to see, under the layers, the persona, the slick hair and the tight gloves. The moves that seemed so haphazardly pieced together, rough from different sects until they made a single cohesive martial skill.

  But it was the same thing from a different angle.

  A picture frame that was tilted to the side, rather than straight.

  All these moves…were just like his six moves from the movies. Did Li Wentao grow up too, listening to those stories? Wanting to be like the heroes in the tales? Only he was just farther along this martial path than Daniel was. More bitter. More angry. More…like I am now.

  If he beat all of them here. Would he have become just as bitter and angry. Spending years until he was this strong as well.

  Was this really what he wanted to be?

  "Maybe." Daniel wiped the blood from his mouth. "Maybe, I'm just a stupid kid. I don't know how the world works, or how things should be. But…"

  He closed his eyes, remembering Li Qinghua's face at the altar, surrounded by photographs of her dead friends. If the martial world was really so cruel, would she have remembered it so fondly.

  "The world…Li Qinghua remembered was nothing like this…."

  The world I remember…when was it when I first dreamed of being a hero.

  And then deeper, the world seemed to rewind like a film playing in reverse.

  The orange glow of the window, in front of a television set on a Sunday. Rachel was there sitting on the floor, pillow stuffed in her hand. He with the remote, switching it on to their favorite show. She had her hair in twin pony-tails, bobbing up and down.

  A man, bare chested, in a classical wuxia stance, kicking three guys off a bridge. The dubbed voices never matched the mouths. The theme song came on and she was already singing, half Cantonese half nonsense, getting every other word wrong.

  "A real man must strive to get stronger every day. Even if the sky falls. I shall remain strong. For I am a real man. Hot blooded man! If the world falls on me. I beat back the whole world!"

  Li Qinghua's face appeared in his head.

  "Why do you want to help people?"

  Daniel smiled. Saints or sinners? It was none of that.

  The little kid in him looked at him from the couch. Cheering with his sister.

  "It just looked cool." his younger self said.

  "It just looked cool." he said, now.

  Something settled in his chest. His breathing evened out.

  This isn't who I want to be.

  Daniel got up. The bleeding stopped.

  Li Wentao came forward.

  I want to be cool.

  He swung down. His hands falling deep and low.

  I am the Iron Monk of the Shaolin Temple.

  Daniel raised his hands to meet it.

  My fists are steel. Courage like iron.

  The move struck true, yet it was as steel bars stopped it from going any further.

  Li Wentao snapped back, surprised, then struck from the side.

  I am the Drunken Warrior. Loose like a snake, with hands like a hawk. See for yourself.

  Daniel's waist bent back avoiding the blow entirely, his fist rolled to the side, swiping back striking Li Wentao on his temple.

  And then Li Wentao came again, striking the ground, debris flying everywhere. His fists grew heavier, stronger than before, attacking at vicious angles, tearing apart the space between them.

  I am the White Phoenix. My touch is death. Heaven says I'm evil, but what say you? My dearest friend?

  An open palm found Li Wentao's straight fist, and he grimaced pulling it back as if bitten by a snake. He then crouched low and swept like a gale at Daniel's feet.

  But Daniel simply leapt over him.

  The Old Beggar of the Dragon Inn.

  "The greatest say I am the best. But that's only because I only follow one rule. If you're stronger than me, I run away!"

  Li Wentao growled and then curled his fist up. Tiger Claw.

  Daniel raised his own fist.

  They ran towards each other then struck.

  Heroes. Why do they catch up to established masters in the stories? Those with years of experience?

  Daniel curled his hand.

  To be honest, they shouldn't. Masters had decades of experience, countless battles, they were everything the hero was but better.

  The first blow struck sending his hand backwards.

  Another came at him towards his hand.

  But that assumed one thing.

  The master recognized the threat from the start. When masters failed to see an equal. When they fought who you were yesterday instead of who you'd become today. That's when they lost.

  Daniel smiled. I've been copying moves from my favorite movies, but…in reality.

  Henry looked at Daniel from his memory. "My friend is like a real comic book hero."

  Aren't I already a hero too? I'm fucking Hidden Dragon.

  Daniel's fist seemed to grow an extra talon, a pressure unlike the first time he did it. Then a second, then a third, then a fourth. The image of a great beast seemed to rest on his shoulders, its breath hot against the back of his neck.

  Tiger Claw? This is…

  "Dragon Claw."

  His meridians lit up, eyes as clear as day.

  Boom!

  Li Wentao coughed blood, flying backwards until he smashed into a table. A great gash splintered the ground around them. One seven feet long. The other ten feet in all directions.

  The room was quiet.

  Heh. Daniel almost laughed. He looked across the room at Henry. Now just a few hundred more men to beat through. And then….

  BANG.

  Daniel paused and looked down.

  But when did established masters win against heroes?

  Blood?

  Daniel looked at the direction Li Wentao had fallen. In his hand was…a gun…

  When they stopped playing fair.