Madman!

Chapter 11: Kill and Rob

That afternoon, Chen Wujun caught the aroma of fish balls and curry drifting from a nearby stall. The vendor's hawking cry — "Spicy fish balls, extra spicy!" — hit his ears, and his stomach immediately reminded him he was hungry.

"One skewer of fish balls." Chen Wujun pulled his cap low and tossed over a dollar, accepting the skewer from the vendor. He bit into one, chewing slowly, and strolled unhurriedly toward the spot nearby.

A moment later, he circled back.

His gaze never left the mouth of the alley.

He waited until dark, when four men emerged carrying clubs and a canister of gasoline. He immediately trailed them in silence.

Cutting through several narrow lanes, they reached a building entrance. Chen Wujun watched the group disappear up the stairwell but didn't follow.

He recognized this place.

Last time, these same debt collectors had splashed gasoline on someone's door, terrorizing the woman and children inside until they wouldn't stop crying.

'That guy is just an ordinary man who got hooked on gambling. He was already scared half to death last time — this time he'll probably scrape together at least a partial payment,' Chen Wujun mused.

'The question is how much they'll collect.'A restless itch stirred inside him.

Last time, eavesdropping from the stairwell, he'd overheard that the man owed over twenty thousand.

Even if the guy could only pay back half, that was still more than ten thousand.

And if he paid it all back...

Whether it was ten thousand or twenty, either sum would be a fortune for Chen Wujun — and would solve his current problems.

Besides, this alley was dark and cramped, with plenty of branching paths nearby. Perfect for an ambush.

His eyes swept the surroundings. First, he slipped into the stairwell and listened for sounds of shouting or smashing from upstairs.

Hearing none, he all but confirmed his earlier assessment.

These men had collected a payment satisfactory enough to keep them happy for now.

Chen Wujun then moved to a nearby alley junction and lay in wait, pulling a strip of cloth over his face.

"That guy's wife is really something. If he doesn't pay up next time, we make her work it off with her body!" Voices drifted closer from the distance.

"Damn, you've got your eye on his wife, huh?"

"Forget it — we got the money, that's what matters. You want women? Where can't you find them? Head to Number 14 Pool Hall. Two new girls just showed up — still in school. Tender enough to squeeze juice out of!"

"Hao-ge, one of them is exactly your type!"

As the voices drew nearer, Chen Wujun's heart began to pound. He peered carefully around the corner.

Hao-ge was the ringleader — he'd figured that out over the past few days of surveillance.

Four men approached from down the lane. The most solidly built one, Hao-ge, walked at the front with a cigarette dangling from his lips and a leather bag tucked under his arm.

One man walked beside him; the other two lagged a few steps behind.

Chen Wujun drew a deep breath and forced himself to stay calm.

He slowly loosened the pouch of quickite powder. When the group was almost upon him, he stumbled out clumsily, nearly colliding with Hao-ge.

"Fuck, are you bli—" Hao-ge flinched at the figure lurching from the darkness and opened his mouth to curse, but halfway through, the man's hand swept upward——a cloud of lime powder blasted into his face.

Hao-ge never expected the ambush. His vision went white, then his eyes erupted in searing pain.

The man walking beside him caught the edge of the cloud as well, lime powder coating his face.

"Shit!" The two men behind them froze in shock.

Before any of them could react, Chen Wujun had already drawn his blade. He drove it into Hao-ge's lower abdomen and ripped it free, then plunged it into his flank.

"Aaargh!" Blinded and burning with agony in his gut and side, Hao-ge went berserk, flailing his arms wildly in an attempt to beat back his attacker.

Chen Wujun took a blow on his shoulder and powered through it, hammering in three more rapid stabs before driving the blade deep into Hao-ge's throat.

From the initial throw of lime to the killing thrust — every motion flowed with the swiftness of a rising rabbit and a diving falcon, without a heartbeat's hesitation. He snatched the bag from under Hao-ge's arm, spun on his heel, and ran.

Only then did the two men in the back cry out: "Hao-ge!"

"I'll get him — don't let him escape!"

One rushed to check on Hao-ge; the other sprinted after Chen Wujun.

But the instant the pursuer rounded the first corner, another fistful of lime powder came hurtling straight into his face.

The man squeezed his eyes shut, though some lime still stung its way into the corners. A split second later, pain detonated across his skull as he staggered back two steps, clutching his head.

Chen Wujun was committed now — no half measures. He swung the brick in a full arc and smashed it down on the man's head several more times, then hurled the brick aside and bolted.

He hadn't gone far before he stripped off the cap and face cloth, ducked into a stairwell, climbed to the third floor, and wound through the corridors — left turn, right turn — until moments later he was near his own home.

He retrieved the change of clothes he'd stashed beforehand, swapped outfits, and stuffed the leather bag into the clothing sack. Only then did he lean against the wall, gasping for air, drenched in sweat from head to toe.

After all, this was the first time he'd ever done something like this. Every nerve had been stretched to its absolute limit.

Then his mind drifted back to the bag. It had heft to it — there had to be a decent amount of cash inside.

Excitement surged through him again, and he couldn't help pumping his fist.

Just then, a ringtone suddenly blared from inside the leather bag.

Chen Wujun nearly jumped out of his skin. He tore open the sack, unzipped the bag, and found a mobile phone inside, vibrating incessantly.

He'd seen phones like this — barely the size of a palm, far smaller than the landline at home, and usable anywhere.

They were expensive, too. A single one cost seven or eight thousand dollars. Even his father hadn't been willing to buy one.

Chen Wujun's eyes darted around. Then he picked up the phone and smashed it against the wall.

Silence.

He tossed the ruined phone back into the sack and examined the bag more carefully. Inside were three bundles of cash, mostly hundred-dollar Federal bills with only a few tens mixed in. His pulse quickened instantly.

'Sure enough — as long as you've got the guts, money comes fast.'

He grabbed the sack and headed home. The moment he stepped through the door, a wave of warm steam and the aroma of dinner greeted him.

His father sat on the couch watching television. A voice from the screen announced:

"Today, Councilman Wilson proposed in parliament that the Walled City be demolished..."

"Not a single good person among them! Tear down the Walled City and where do a hundred thousand people go?" his father, Chen Hanliang, barked at the screen.

"You're back? Why are you so sweaty? Someone chasing you? Go wash your hands, dinner's almost ready," his mother called, poking her head out from the kitchen.

"Got it!" Chen Wujun nodded, went straight to his room, and shut the door. He pulled the cash from the sack — two thick bundles and one slightly thinner.

He counted quickly. A total of 28,561.

Clutching the money, his heart hammered wildly.

He had never seen this much cash in his life.

He hid the bills inside his wardrobe, then opened the leather bag again for a thorough search. This time, he found another 620 dollars tucked in a hidden compartment, along with several IOUs.

Unfortunately, none of them were for his family's debt.

After clearing everything out, Chen Wujun shoved the bag back into the sack. He took several deep breaths to steady himself, then noticed that his shoulder throbbed with a burning ache. Pulling his shirt aside, he found the whole area flushed red and swollen.

He applied medicine to his shoulder, ate dinner, then grabbed the sack and headed back out. He slipped into the Walled City first, found a reeking drainage ditch, and tossed both the bag and the phone into it.

With the most damning evidence disposed of, he finally let himself relax completely.

Afterward, he returned to the rooftop, though tonight he didn't stand on the parapet wall to practice his stances. Instead, he simply gazed out at the distant skyline for a long time.

For the first time in his entire life, he'd held that much money in his hands. His mind suddenly overflowed with things he wanted to buy.

A portable CD player, a mobile phone, new clothes... all things he'd wanted before but never had the chance to get.

But he quashed the impulse almost as quickly as it arose.

'I've seen it on the crime reports — robbers who splurge after a heist, throwing money around until the police track them down.'

'If I start spending freely, someone might notice. Someone might connect the dots.'

'Especially now. They'll definitely be looking everywhere for the killer.'

'So aside from giving Dad a thousand a month, the rest goes to martial arts tuition and food.'

'Senior Brother Li told me that martial artists burn through more energy than normal people. We eat more, and we need high-protein foods — beef, chicken. Meat is expensive. Mom never buys much, just a little at a time. Never enough to eat freely...'

Chen Wujun made up his mind. This money would not be wasted on frivolities. Every cent would go toward his training.

Plus a thousand a month for the family, to help clear their debt sooner.

Then his thoughts turned to reviewing the ambush from earlier that evening.

'Hao-ge had martial arts training — definitely more experience than me, and better skill. Even after being blindsided, one hit from him left my shoulder swollen and red. Even with medicine, raising my arm is a struggle.'

'But even so, it was calculated against unprepared. One handful of lime to the face, and he never saw it coming — blinded in an instant. Then I stabbed him repeatedly to drain his strength before driving the blade into his throat. That man is dead as dead gets.'

'No matter how well-trained you are, if you're caught off guard, even an ordinary person can kill you.'

'So no matter when, no matter where — stay alert. Otherwise you'll end up like Hao-ge, capsized in a shallow ditch.'

'The Charge Stance's "as if facing a great enemy" mentality is exactly for situations like that. It's hard to maintain that state continuously, but when I'm on the rooftop practicing stances with total concentration — even if I haven't fully entered that heightened state — the effect is nearly the same. I need to extend that awareness for as long as possible.'

After finishing his review, Chen Wujun sat in silence for another moment, then climbed onto the parapet wall to begin his stance training.

Daily practice could never be neglected.

But tonight, flush with his windfall, his mind buzzed with stray thoughts that refused to settle. He didn't dare stand on the wall in the Golden Rooster Stance.

Fortunately, after holding the Charge Stance for just a short while, everything else fell away.

Before his eyes, there was only the bottomless abyss and the few inches of wall beneath his feet.

...

Later that night, back in his room, he took the money out of the wardrobe and split it into three portions. One went into a corner of the wardrobe, one was stuffed inside his pillow, and the last was wrapped in a pouch and hidden on top of the cabinet in the living room.

'I don't have a bank account, and there are so few places in this house to hide money...'

When all that was done, he finally lay down on his bed.

Even as sleep took him, his mind churned with plans for the days ahead — training, and the lessons learned from Hao-ge's fate.

Not once did it occur to him to dwell on the fact that he had killed a man.

In his mind, killing someone to solve your own problems was perfectly fair.

Nothing worth thinking about at all.