"Uh—who's there? What are you trying to pull, creeping around in the middle of the night?" Sergeant Hannah Pan jumped in surprise, but quickly stood up and strode toward the two figures in black across the woods. Though she was a woman, she was plenty gutsy.
Captain Victor Zhang, though also rattled by the spooky scene, was worried about Hannah Pan’s safety. He hurried after her, discreetly drawing the pistol from his waist, ready for anything.
Hannah Pan slowly approached the edge of the woods, stopping about four or five meters from the two figures in black. She watched them warily. The two men stood perfectly still, their faces hidden by wide bamboo hats in the shadows of the night—she couldn’t make out their features at all. Hannah frowned and demanded, "Who are you two? What are you doing here? Show me your IDs!"
But the two men in black ignored her, just standing there with an eerie air about them. Hannah Pan grew anxious and was about to step forward to question them more closely. Just then, as midnight rain began to fall and lightning split the sky, the two men suddenly reached up and tossed aside their huge bamboo hats, revealing two identical, ashen faces. Their faces were long and gaunt, stiff and expressionless, lips black as coal, and their eyes—mostly white with only a hint of black—glinted with a savage light. They looked just like movie zombies. To see two identical zombie faces appear out of nowhere in the dead of night was enough to freeze anyone’s blood.
"Ah—are you... people or ghosts?!" Hannah Pan was so scared by their terrifying faces that she stumbled backward several steps. Still, she reminded herself she was a police officer—she couldn’t just believe in ghosts and monsters. Gritting her teeth, she steadied herself, reached for her pistol, and forced herself to keep questioning them, her voice trembling.
"Jieh—jieh—jieh—" One of the men in black didn’t answer her. Instead, he let out a weird, screeching laugh, then started walking toward her.
As the man in black approached, Hannah Pan felt a chilling, murderous aura rush toward her. Still, she gritted her teeth, drew her pistol, and aimed it at him, snapping, "Stop right there! What do you want? I’m a police officer! Didn’t you hear me?!"
The man in black ignored her warning and kept coming. In desperation, Hannah Pan braced herself, gathered all her strength, and lashed out with a whip kick—her right leg sweeping like lightning toward the man's waist. It was a powerful move from her Sanda training, deadly and precise. She’d put in serious work mastering this technique; a regular person would be knocked out cold by a kick like that.
Bang—her whip kick landed squarely on the man’s waist, but to her shock, he didn’t even flinch. It was as if her kick, packing over two hundred pounds of force, had vanished into thin air.
"Uh—No way?!" Hannah Pan gasped, her eyes wide with shock. The black-clad man in front of her was so bizarre, she started to wonder if he was even human.
Before Hannah could react, the black-clad man suddenly lifted his right arm. From his wide sleeve emerged a pair of withered, ghostly pale hands—the right hand's nails were jet-black, sharp like a raptor's talons. His movement was eerily gentle, just a light push, not fast at all, but Hannah found herself unable to dodge. His hand landed squarely on her left shoulder.
"Bang—ah!" Hannah screamed in pain as her body shot backwards, like a kite with its string cut, flying seven or eight meters away. If Victor Zhang hadn't caught her in time, she'd have flown even farther.
With just that one move, both Hannah and Victor crashed to the ground. Hannah saw stars, her throat felt raw, and blood seeped from the corner of her mouth—the force of that gentle push was beyond imagining. Victor was even worse off; acting as her human cushion, his nose took the full brunt of her head, and blood sprayed everywhere, covering his face.
"Jieh—jieh—jieh—" The black-clad man let out a strange cackle after his successful strike, but ignored the two on the ground. He strolled straight toward the entrance of the Shilong Mountain Police Station, looking like he planned to walk right in.
"Damn it—stop right there! Move again and I'll shoot! Attacking a cop, huh—" Victor Zhang saw things going south and immediately raised his pistol, shouting at the black-clad man's back.
But the black-clad man acted like he hadn't heard the warning, still strolling toward the Shilong Mountain Police Station's entrance. Victor hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth, raised his pistol, and prepared to pull the trigger.
"Whoosh—" Suddenly, a dark shadow flashed before his eyes, bringing a gust of chill wind—"Crack—crash—" Victor saw something unbelievable: a withered, ghostly pale hand gripped his pistol, fiddled with it for a moment, and the gun instantly fell apart into a pile of scattered parts on the floor. Even the bullets from the magazine spilled out everywhere.
"Uh—oh my god!!" Victor Zhang's eyes widened. Only now did he see that another black-clad man had somehow appeared right in front of him. That zombie-like face twisted into a sinister grin, and he flexed his strange hand—obviously, the supernatural skill that dismantled his pistol belonged to this guy.
"Wh-what do you want?" Hannah Pan had already scrambled to her feet. Seeing the black-clad man closing in, she pulled Victor up and couldn't help but ask again.
This time, the black-clad man actually answered her: "Jieh—jieh—We're here to take someone away!"
"Who—who do you want to take?" Hannah stared at the two black-clad men, who looked like soul-reapers straight out of hell.
The black-clad man didn’t answer her. Instead, he turned to the other black-clad man heading for the Shilong Mountain Police Station and said, "Second Brother, hurry up! No point dragging this out—they’re waiting for us to deliver the goods!"
The black-clad man heading for the police station nodded and picked up the pace. He was just about to step through the door when—"Whoosh!"—he felt a fierce gust of energy slam down from above. Instantly, he raised both hands to meet the attack.
"Bang—bang—bang—" In an instant, the thunderous sounds of impact echoed through the night. Two figures crossed paths, each retreating several steps before steadying themselves, their eyes locked in a tense standoff.
"Yan Zombie Fist! Yan Twins of Terror!" the newly arrived old man said coldly.
"Eagle Claw King—Felix Eagleclaw! Not bad, old man! Jieh—jieh—jieh!" The black-clad man looked at the elder and let out a mocking laugh.
The newly arrived elder was none other than Felix Eagleclaw, the Eagle Claw King of Huaian. He frowned, white eyebrows furrowed, and asked coldly, "So, why aren’t you Yan Twins of Terror back in Chenzhou training? What are you doing here?"
"Jieh—jieh—jieh—we’re here to grab someone! Felix Eagleclaw, this isn’t your business, so butt out! Don’t get in our way!" the black-clad man hissed.
"Hmph, you want to take Charles Morin?! Then it is my business!" Felix Eagleclaw replied coldly.
"Jieh—jieh—jieh—oh yeah? Then I’ll kill you first!" The black-clad man sneered, his body shifting as he stalked toward Felix Eagleclaw.