Sabrina appeared delicate, but her spirit was fierce. Especially since she'd never known real hardship in life.
She'd been a natural beauty from childhood. At seven or eight, while other children were still innocent, she'd already carried a seductive allure. Chosen as her master's sole disciple, by twelve or thirteen, she'd had no shortage of young suitors. Her entire life had been one of being the center of attention—the heavens' darling, loved to madness, admired to obsession. Always praised, everywhere she went, she was the apple of men's eyes.
Yet today, she'd suffered the greatest humiliation of her life.
Most might seek a way out, thinking there's still hope. But she'd faced few setbacks, and since following Otto, all had gone smoothly—she'd never known misfortune. Now, she'd suddenly encountered this madman and been humiliated by Fyren, the one she despised most. She couldn't bear it and wanted to end it all.
But in Herbert's presence, she couldn't even die with dignity.
Herbert's slap sent her crashing to the ground, unable to rise. Twirling the dagger, he said to Fyren, "You won. I owe you ten bucks."
Fyren looked at Sabrina lying there, sobbing in despair, and felt a twinge. Though he knew she was Otto's subordinate—and not from a respectable background. A woman who used looks and skills to survive in the underworld always carried a cunning, malicious air. But… seeing such a delicate woman cry so desperately still unsettled him.
[Logically, having one of Otto's men die should make me safer. Sabrina was his most capable assistant, her abilities too overwhelming.]
[If Sabrina dies today, it could heavily impact my future struggle with Otto. Conversely, having such a ruthless person at Otto's side is a huge threat.]
[With her or without her—two entirely different futures, two different storylines.]
Herbert grabbed Sabrina's hair, tied her up, and hung her, satisfied: "You should know better than to cross an old man like me. If Fyren takes you, I won't stop him. If he doesn't, stay here and wait for Otto. If he doesn't come in three days, I'll kill you and feed you to the mountain wolves. Nuisance! I hate women who use méishù most!"
He turned to scold Fyren: "Listen up, Fyren."
"Yes, Master."
"In the martial world, the deadliest sin is mercy! I once showed mercy, and it cost me my family—everything!"
Fyren frowned. "Master, I thought you said you'd never married."
"I could have married! But my mercy stopped me. Isn't that losing everything?"
"Your family… was destroyed, but you're still alive."
"My heart's dead. Isn't that the same as being dead? I ask you! Is it or isn't it!? Is it or isn't it!?"
Fyren saw the old man's sudden agitation and quickly conceded, "Yes, yes! Master, you're right!"
Herbert took a ragged breath. "Especially women! The more you coddle them, the more they'll walk all over you! Understand?"
"Yes, Master, I understand."
"The martial world's a battlefield—kill or be killed. A moment's mercy leads to eternal regret! Remember that!"
"Yessir, I'll remember."
Fyren thought:
[This is bad. Master's upset. Seems this old man has a festering wound, and Sabrina's accidentally ripped off the scab.]
[He was already unhinged; if this keeps up, he might snap completely and hurt Sabrina.]
[Christ! This is a mess. Saving Sabrina might get me killed, but leaving her… I might regret it for life.]
Sabrina couldn't speak, staring at Fyren with 绝望 (desperation) in her eyes—eyes filled with resentment.
Fyren seethed inwardly:
[Look at you! I never hurt you! You hate me? What right do you have to hate me?]
[Dammit, I'm still debating whether to save you, and you swear to haunt me as a ghost. Should I jump in a well with your imaginary kid?]
[You bitch!]
Sabrina dropped her gaze.
It seems… that's the truth. Fyren… he hasn't really wronged me.
But why do I hate him so much?
Right! Because he's the Young Lord's enemy!
He keeps blocking the Young Lord's path, destroying his plans!
This scum doesn't deserve to live!
And because he's indifferent to my beauty!
He knows my méishù, yet he's made me fail again and again!
Aren't those reasons enough to hate him?
Fyren thought a moment, then said to Herbert, "Master, here's an idea: seal her acupoints, tie her hands behind her back, and I'll blindfold her. That way, she can't use her allure on me, and I can take her to Senior Brother Otto."
"Hmm…"
"Otherwise, keeping her means you have to feed her—what a hassle."
"Ah, right! Good idea, settled then."
Sabrina had never known such humiliation.
Hands bound behind her back, eyes covered, she shuffled forward step by step.
Fyren trailed behind, feeling rather self-satisfied. For a long stretch, neither spoke a word. Sabrina's mind spun with nothing but how she'd make Fyren pay once rescued.
Fyren's thoughts were darker.
[Look at you, staggering along. You must loathe me, don't you?]
[I almost feel sorry for you. Out here in the wilderness, tied up like a turkey—anyone could pin you to a tree and have their way, and no one would ever know.]
Sabrina seethed in silence, hatred burning in her eyes.
Nearly an hour later, she suddenly wrenched free from the ropes, tore off the blindfold, and struck Fyren with a backhand palm. Startled, he parried desperately, but as a novice in ancient martial arts, he was no match. The blow sent him flying, chest tight with pain.
"Today, I'll avenge the Young Lord with this strike!" Sabrina ground out.
Just then, a shout rang out: "Fyren! Fyren!"
Sabrina's internal injuries flared, a trickle of blood seeping from her lip. "You'll regret this!" she snarled, leaping away.
She reunited with Zaring and Chloe, who reported the situation: the Tactician and Gold King had recovered enough to overpower Zaring. The Tactician wanted them dead, but the Gold King intervened; after a brief argument, both left.
Fyren nodded. "This mountain's a madhouse. Hakan and Sabrina are still out there—we need to leave now."
Soon, they spotted their modified Mercedes-Benz G-Class overturned in the jungle. All three were drained. Dusk was falling, and Fyren knew lingering after dark meant risk. Though they'd signed a liability waiver—rescue teams would deploy if they didn't emerge—Sabrina, the Tactician, and Gold King were still at large. Another encounter could be fatal.
The G-Class was a beast: raised chassis, bulletproof armor, reinforced suspension, massive off-road tires… but its heft worked against them now. Flipping it single-handedly seemed impossible.
Fyren recalled a nameless technique Herbert had taught—useless on its own, but the zhen qi control might help. If applied right, he could muster superhuman strength.
When he announced he'd right the car, Zaring and Chloe thought he'd lost it. But Fyren climbed a tree, used his palm-blade to hack branches, retrieved ropes and tools, and rigged a lever system. As Zaring and Chloe pried with the levers, he heaved with all his might.
To their astonishment, the vehicle lurched upright.
Chloe collapsed, exhausted but thrilled. "Fyren! You're a beast!"
Zaring lay panting on the ground. "Christ, that was brutal. This thing must weigh over two tons!"
Fyren, however, wasn't overly tired. He'd never expected his Soul-Forging Warrior abilities to be so potent.
He had Chloe get behind the wheel and press the accelerator while he and Zaring pushed from the rear. The vehicle finally lurched forward. The three clapped and embraced excitedly before speeding off. In that moment, having an off-road beast capable of scaling mountains and fording rivers felt like a godsend—they'd surely escape the mountains before nightfall.
At a fork in the road, Zaring's tire 碾碎 (crushed) straight over Hakan's thigh.
Hakan's luck was abysmal. He'd ventured into the mountains to chase women, ended up shooting a tree, and accidentally wounded the Gold King. When he tried to finish the job, Fyren appeared, scattering his men and leaving only Sabrina behind. Just as he marveled at her loyalty, Herbert's martial arts gusts blew him into a ditch.
Climbing out, he found himself alone on Foolish Hill. Weeping, he searched for the car, but his companions were long gone. He stumbled along, weeping, exhausted, hungry, and terrified. By the intersection, his vision darkened, and he collapsed.
He'd barely slept fifteen minutes when a truck's engine rumbled, followed by searing pain in his calf. Looking down, he saw the SUV's wheel grinding into his flesh.
Crack!
Thunder split the sky, and the downpour resumed.
Rain pounded the roof and hood, deafening the interior. Fyren, drained, hugged Chloe and asked Zaring, "What's wrong?"
"Think we took a wrong turn."
"Shit. Turn around—take the other fork."
"Got it."
Crack! Snap!
Hakan howled in agony, slapping the tire. "Somebody's under here! You're crushing me! My leg! Fuck! My leg, you idiots!"
His screams vanished in the storm. Slapping the tire was useless—without a grenade, the three exhausted souls inside wouldn't hear a thing.
"Wait," Zaring squinted ahead. "No, this is the right path."
Snap! Snap!
Hakan went mad. Are they doing this on purpose? Trying to kill me? In moments, the wheels had run over him six times.
"No, still wrong!"
Click! Click!
He shrieked like a banshee: "Fyren! You bastard! You're running over someone!"
"Nah, this is correct. Just a little rain."
Click! Click!
Hakan blacked out on the spot.