Madman!

Chapter 12: Nobody Takes My Money

A clinic in the Walled City.

Several men in suits barged in with menacing expressions, then parted to either side, making way for a man in his fifties wearing a fitted suit behind them.

"Master Bing!" Ah Hao's subordinates in the room immediately bowed the moment they recognized the newcomer.

Master Bing ignored them entirely and strode straight to a bed, where Ah Hao's corpse lay.

He checked for breathing, confirmed the man was indeed dead, then turned around with an expressionless face. "What happened?"

"Ah Hao had just finished collecting debts. He hadn't gotten far before someone ambushed him..." The subordinate recounted the entire incident.

Master Bing slapped him across the face without warning. "So what you're telling me is there was only one attacker, and you watched him get killed, then watched the killer walk away?"

"Ghost Boy got a handful of lime thrown in his face—he couldn't see a thing... I went to check on Ah Hao, and Rotten Tooth Dong chased after the guy, but got ambushed too... He's still laid up in bed and can't move!" The slapped subordinate clutched his cheek and explained with trembling caution.

"Useless!" Master Bing gave him another slap.

Master Bing fished out a cigarette and lit it. His expression was cold and detached, but his eyes burned with vicious intent."Find him. Turn this place upside down if you have to!"

After all, one of his men had been ambushed and stabbed to death while collecting debts in the Walled City, and the money had been stolen.

If he didn't catch and deal with the culprit... once word got out, where would that leave his reputation?

Would every lowlife think they could piss on his head from now on?

"How did that person know you'd be passing through there? And he went straight for the kill and grabbed the bag without a second's hesitation. How did he know Ah Hao's bag had money in it?"

"It was that kid who came to pay off his debt!" blurted another subordinate who'd also been slapped, his eyes suddenly blazing with murderous intent.

Smack!

"No wonder Ah Hao ended up with useless trash like you! You think everyone else is as brainless as you are?" Master Bing spat with undisguised contempt.

"You were being watched!"

"Xiong Zai, you've got a sharp mind. Take these idiots and find that person for me over the next few days!" Master Bing called out to a suited man standing not far away.

...

"Check whether anyone's been tailing you or lurking around you these past few days... Over the next few days, keep your eyes peeled for any junkies or gambling addicts in the Walled City who've suddenly come into money."

"Twenty-eight thousand, close to thirty grand—that's no small sum. Whoever got their hands on it won't be able to sit still for long."

The moment Master Bing left, Xiong Zai issued his orders.

"Got it, Brother Xiong!"

Ah Hao's two former subordinates wore dark, grim expressions, silently vowing to dig the culprit out and skin him alive.

...

"There's killing intent in your stance today!" Senior Brother Li strolled over to where Chen Wujun was holding the Golden Rooster Stance and gave a sniff, catching the distinct scent of blood and medicinal ointment.

After all, for the past several days, Chen Wujun's knees had been battered raw every session, then slathered with medicine. By nighttime they'd barely begin to heal, only to be smashed bloody all over again the next day.

Senior Brother Li studied Chen Wujun more closely and confirmed his feeling—there was something unusual about the killing aura clinging to the kid today.

Martial artists had far sharper senses than ordinary people.

While the Golden Rooster Stance was indeed meant to cultivate killing intent, that was a trained, internal kind of intent—entirely different from the aura that came from actually taking a life.

"Interesting."

Before long, he tossed the thought aside.

Whatever this kid got up to outside was none of his business.

Even if he'd actually killed someone, as long as nobody came knocking on his door about it, he couldn't be bothered to care.

When Chen Wujun finished his morning training, both knees were a raw, bloody mess again. He limped out of the martial arts school.

Blood seeped straight through his trousers.

'Every day my knees get smashed until they're raw, then once the bleeding stops, I apply the medicine, let them recover overnight, and do it all again the next day. The pain has eased up a bit these last two days, though. Once the knees heal properly, they should be tougher than anywhere else on my body.'

Chen Wujun walked and pondered at the same time.

He went to the dental clinic to eat lunch with his father, stood in stance practice at the clinic for a while that afternoon, then said goodbye to his old man and headed out for a stroll along Longjin Street.

Passing by the corner shop, he spotted the same kid from last time, happily licking a lollipop.

The sight of the boy immediately reminded Chen Wujun of how the brat had disrupted his plans before.

Chen Wujun wasn't exactly a petty person, but seeing the kid looking so blissfully happy made him want to remind the little runt that he'd celebrated too soon.

When the child saw Chen Wujun walking toward him, recognition flashed across his face instantly. He pointed a finger at Chen Wujun, mouth opening as if to shout—but then something clicked, and he frantically stuffed the lollipop into his mouth.

The fact that the kid still remembered after all these days showed just how deep an impression Chen Wujun had left on him last time.

Chen Wujun walked up, reached out and pinched the boy's cheek, plucked the lollipop from his mouth, then spun around and melted into the crowd.

Behind him erupted the child's wailing cries.

Followed by a woman's shrill cursing.

Chen Wujun ducked through an alley and tossed the lollipop into a gutter.

That kid was unhappy now, and that made Chen Wujun very happy indeed. Wonderful mood.

A shop nearby happened to be playing a Cantonese ballad over its speakers, and Chen Wujun hummed along as he walked: "Ah~ sending you off, sending you off, blessings that never end..."

"Drifting softly... searching an endless road..."

"Boss, two skewers of fish balls!"

With a skewer of fish balls in each hand, Chen Wujun ambled down Longjin Street toward the gambling den. Near the entrance, he noticed several people going from shop to shop, asking questions.

Two of them he'd seen just yesterday.

'They're already investigating. Good thing I changed outfits a few times and wore a hat. Even if someone noticed me, they wouldn't be able to pick me out.' Chen Wujun noted calmly to himself, his expression betraying nothing as he strolled right past them.

Chen Wujun was born with nerves of steel.

Anyone else in this situation would feel at least a twinge of guilt or anxiety.

But Chen Wujun felt nothing of the sort. He simply walked through the crowd with fish balls in hand, eating as he went.

The men hunting for the killer never imagined that their target was the teenager casually strolling through their midst.

Chen Wujun spotted a large storefront with red curtains hanging over its windows.

He gave it a long, lingering look, his eyes full of curiosity and more than a hint of longing.

He knew exactly what kind of place this was.

One of the Walled City's semi-open strip clubs.

He'd heard the shows were quite something, though he'd never actually been inside.

...

Three more days passed, and the time came for the Chen family to settle their debt.

During dinner, the iron security gate outside was rattled with loud, impatient banging.

His father, Chen Hanliang, opened the inner wooden door, and Chen Wujun followed. Three men stood outside—one in a suit whom he'd never seen before.

The other two had come by before.

"Chen Hanliang, time's up! Pay what you owe!" one of them barked, kicking the iron gate for emphasis.

They even knew his father's name.

Chen Hanliang suppressed the anger churning inside him. "I can pay off what that good-for-nothing owes this time, but there won't be a next time! If you lend him money again, I won't repay a single cent on his behalf. I can't afford to!"

"Then you'd better pray that worthless son of yours doesn't go borrowing from someone else! We're not the only ones in this Walled City willing to lend to him!" the man replied with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Since the money's ready, hand it over. Interest accrues by the day—the longer you drag this out, the more you'll owe!"

"Wait here." Chen Hanliang turned and went into the bedroom, returning with a paper bag from which he produced several bundles of cash.

"That's thirty-seven thousand, six hundred and fifty. Where's the IOU?"

"Over thirty grand, and you scraped it together that fast?" The man didn't take the money right away. Instead, he looked Chen Hanliang up and down, then peered past him at the others in the room.

Inside were only a woman, a teenage boy, and a small child.

"What's that supposed to mean? What are you people trying to pull?" Chen Hanliang demanded.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just that we recently lost a sum of money," the suited man remarked.

"So naturally, we're curious."

"This money came from mortgaging my home," Chen Hanliang ground out, barely containing his fury.

"Oh? Who'd you borrow from?"

They exchanged a few more words. Finding nothing suspicious, they handed over the IOU and collected the money.

"If you happen to hear anything, let us know. Master Bing is offering a ten-thousand-dollar reward," the suited man added.

The moment they were out the door, Chen Hanliang slammed it shut with a bang.

He returned to the table, sat down, and poured himself half a glass of baijiu. After a small sip, he let out a long sigh.

This loan shark business had visibly aged him—his hair had gone noticeably grayer.

He'd finally managed to borrow enough to settle the debt, but the pressure of repaying that loan was hardly light either.

Chen Wujun, meanwhile, ate his dinner while mulling over what the man had said at the end—"Master Bing." He wondered who that was.

Although he'd killed Ah Hao and stolen a sum of money, as far as he was concerned, this matter was far from over.

They'd taken thirty-seven thousand, six hundred and fifty dollars from his family. Sooner or later, they'd pay every cent back to him.

With interest. Compounding interest.

When he robbed others, it was no big deal—whatever the amount, it was just a trifle.

But when others robbed him? Even a single dollar was an unforgivable offense, and he would absolutely get it back.

After dinner, Chen Hanliang sat on the couch watching the evening crime report. Chen Wujun perched beside him on the edge of the sofa, his backside hovering a centimeter above the cushion.

"Don't be like those scumbags. Be a decent person!" Chen Hanliang pointed at the criminals being arrested on screen.

"I know!" Chen Wujun nodded obediently, while thinking to himself, 'The ones who get caught are scumbags. As long as you don't get caught, you're not one.'

"By the way, have you given any thought to finding work? You've seen the situation. Because of that no-good brother of yours, the whole family is going to have to tighten our belts to pay off the debt," Chen Hanliang said, turning to face him.

"I asked around. The martial arts school needs someone to clean up. Fifteen hundred a month. Besides the cleaning duties, I'd be free to use any of the school's facilities the rest of the time," Chen Wujun replied.

"It's only available to me because I'm already a student there."

The answer caught Chen Hanliang slightly off guard, though he didn't overthink it. A look of faint relief crossed his face as he nodded. "That works."

Since his second son loved martial arts, getting a job at the school was a good arrangement all around.