Chapter 6: Blood in the Alley
Night fell heavy over the city, lantern light trembling in the narrow streets like nervous hearts. The assassin moved along the rooftops now, not the ground. Tiles were uneven beneath his feet, but the new footwork steadied his balance, distributing weight with near-perfect control.
He was being hunted.
Not recklessly. Not loudly.
Professionally.
He felt it in the pauses between footsteps, in the way shadows seemed to linger a breath too long. The organization never rushed. They surrounded, isolated, then erased.
He stopped atop a two-story building and crouched low, letting his presence dissolve. His breathing slowed until it was barely there. The qi within him followed, sinking inward, quiet, hidden.
Three heartbeats passed.
Then four.
A shape moved below.
A man slipped into the alley between buildings, his steps soundless, his posture relaxed. A hunter confident in his prey's exhaustion. Another followed, then a third, spacing perfect, angles tight.
They were better than the last group.
The assassin's eyes narrowed.
He dropped silently behind the first man, dagger already in hand. The blade slid across the man's throat in one smooth motion. Blood sprayed briefly before the body was lowered gently to the ground.
No sound.
The second man sensed it a fraction too late.
Steel clashed as he spun, blade flashing toward the assassin's chest. The assassin twisted aside, pain flaring in his wounded shoulder, and drove his elbow into the man's jaw. Bone cracked. The man staggered, and the assassin finished him with a thrust through the heart.
The third fled instantly.
Smart.
The assassin did not chase.
He dragged the bodies deeper into shadow, working quickly. Blood soaked into the dirt, swallowed by darkness. He searched them with efficient hands.
Tokens.
Orders.
A familiar seal.
His jaw tightened.
"They really don't want me alive," he murmured.
[Threat level increased.]
"I noticed."
He melted back into the city, changing routes repeatedly, avoiding predictable paths. The hunt would intensify now. The organization would escalate once silence failed.
By the time he returned to the inn, dawn was creeping into the sky.
He did not sleep.
Instead, he cultivated.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, spirit stone fragments arranged around him. He drew the qi in slowly, carefully, remembering the pain of excess. His channels resisted, then adapted, stretching by agonizing degrees.
Sweat soaked his clothes.
Blood seeped from reopened wounds.
He did not stop.
The system observed without comment.
The warmth inside him condensed slightly, tighter, denser than before. Not stronger yet—but closer to it.
[Qi density increased.]
His breathing hitched.
A knock sounded at the door.
He froze instantly.
Another knock followed, lighter.
"Inn service," came the same young woman's voice from before.
He did not move.
"I… I heard noises last night," she continued nervously. "Are you hurt?"
Silence stretched.
Finally, he rose and opened the door a crack.
She flinched when she saw the blood on his clothes.
"You should leave this place," he said quietly.
Her eyes widened. "Why?"
"Tonight."
She swallowed and nodded, fear flickering across her face. "Thank you."
She hurried away.
He closed the door and exhaled slowly.
Kindness was dangerous.
He packed his belongings quickly. Staying here any longer was foolish. The hunters would trace him soon.
Before leaving, he paused, gaze distant.
The city had given him resources.
It had also given him blood.
Fair trade.
He slipped out just as the sun rose, blending into the morning crowd, already a different man than the one who had entered.
Behind him, in a narrow alley no one bothered to check, three bodies cooled in silence.
And far away, within the organization's hidden halls, a report would soon arrive.
The dead had failed.
The prey was growing teeth.