Kapitel 5: Chapter 5

He clenched his blood vessels, forcing the flow of blood to thicken, to pool, to pulse with increased force. Each beat of his heart sent a wave of power through his muscles, strengthening their vigor, making his legs as hard as steel. He felt his blood boiling beneath his skin, his veins widening like flooded rivers, fueling his body with raw, almost bestial energy. The dusty ground beneath his feet suddenly felt lighter, each movement more precise, faster, each muscle perfectly coordinated for the hunt.

His feet slid silently across the ground, skimming the surface with feline grace. The dust barely lifted beneath his steps, leaving behind only an imperceptible trace, like a shadow crossing the twilight.

Fang Yuan's senses were hyper-sharp: he could sense the slightest rustle of fabric, the slightest change in light on dirty surfaces, the scents of blood, sweat, and fear intertwining to create a symphony of sensations. He could feel the vibrations beneath his feet, the echoes of the men's heavy footsteps, the irregular beating of their hearts. Their breathing, rapid and jerky, betrayed their boastful confidence.

Fang Yuan took in the situation in the room with cold precision. Ming had shot one of the men in the leg, and the latter, now immobilized, was groaning in pain, desperately trying to compress the wound to stop the flow of blood. Two were already on the ground, their blood mixing with the dust on the floor, but one remained, rushing toward Ming, his knife raised, ready to strike.

The gleaming knife in the man's hand caught the faint light, sending out flashes that seemed to slice through the air with icy coldness. Ming's gaze was fixed on the assailant, his eyes wide with terror but also determination. He knew he wouldn't have time to reload or fire again.

Fang Yuan melted into the shadows, his figure almost entirely disappearing into the dark corners of the dilapidated room. Every movement was calculated, every step light and silent. He crept up behind the man, using the shadows as a protective veil, a second skin that concealed his deadly intentions. When he was in range, he constricted the blood vessels in his fingers, forcing them to swell, to pulse with inhuman force.

The veins in his hands stood out, prominent, beating like war drums. His fingers joined in a fluid motion, while his nails lengthened, becoming sharp claws. The transformation happened in an instant, a process Fang Yuan had long mastered. He had learned to dominate his body, to make it a formidable weapon, and this moment was the perfect demonstration of it.

Fang Yuan's claws, dark and shiny, seemed to absorb the light around them, sharp crescent moons ready to tear through flesh. The man, blinded by his bloodlust, did not even sense the deadly presence behind him until it was too late.

CRACK!

With a swift and precise movement, Fang Yuan brought his claws down on the man, stabbing directly at the kneecaps in both of his legs. The sound was sharp, almost muffled, like a stone thrown into stagnant water. Flesh tore from the impact, bones cracked under the brute force of the attack, and the man collapsed with a heart-rending cry of pain.

"ARRRGH!"

The cry of pain tore through the stagnant air of the room, a raw, primitive howl that echoed off the crumbling walls. The pain exploded in the man's legs like a sudden fire, burning every nerve, instantly robbing him of any ability to stand. His legs buckled beneath him grotesquely, kneecaps shattering under the force of Fang Yuan's claws. The shock of the injury was so intense that his hands dropped the knife, the weapon clanking on the dusty ground, forgotten in the panic that gripped him.

The man desperately tried to grasp his shattered legs, his trembling fingers brushing the mangled flesh, but the pain pinned him to the spot. Gasping for air, he collapsed, his body crashing heavily against the cold ground. A groan, more animal than human, escaped his throat as he writhed, his muscles contracted in unbearable pain. Blood gushed from his wounds like a black, sticky river, spreading rapidly around him, pooling on the ground in a bloody puddle.

The man's face contorted into an expression of pure terror, his wide eyes fixed on Fang Yuan, pleading in desperate silence. But there was no mercy to be found in his tormentor's gaze, only implacable coldness, icy determination. Fang Yuan didn't waste a moment. Still short of breath, his heart beating at a steady pace, he took measured steps towards the man on the ground.

He leaned over the groaning man, his black eyes barely reflecting the horror of the scene. The room was filled with the metallic smell of fresh blood, a scent that saturated the air and clung to the skin, mixing fear with imminent death. The silence that had followed the man's scream now seemed to close in around them, oppressive, as if the entire world was holding its breath. His claws, long and sharp, blades of flesh ready to finish what they had started. Without a word, without a sigh,

SPLASH!

Fang Yuan brought his claw down, quick as lightning, and planted it directly into the man's neck. The skin, fragile under the relentless pressure of the organic blade, tore easily, and blood gushed from the wound, a crimson stream splashing Fang Yuan's claws and mixing with the pool already present on the ground.

BWLEEEEURGGG!

The man could only gurgle, a last muffled sound in a desperate attempt to breathe as life escaped from his body, fleeing through the gaping wound that marked the end of his existence. The veins in his neck emptied, blood escaping quickly, covering Fang Yuan's hand with a warm, viscous liquid. The man's body convulsed one last time before falling back, inert, his eyes empty, staring at the ceiling in a frozen expression of horror and supplication.

Fang Yuan stood still for a moment, his claws, still buried in the flesh, now stained with blood, a sight both macabre and hypnotizing. He could feel the warmth of the life-giving liquid slowly cooling on his skin.

Removing his hand with clinical precision, Fang Yuan straightened up, his face still impassive, as if none of this had any hold on him. The room had fallen silent again, disturbed only by the dripping sound of blood falling to the floor.

Ploc

Fang Yuan straightened up, his claws still dripping with the warm blood of his latest victim. The air around him seemed to thicken, charged with an almost palpable tension, a sort of oppressive silence where each breath became a whisper of survival. The other two men, still on the ground, injured but conscious, looked up at him, their gazes quickly filling with visceral terror.

Gulp

Their faces, partly hidden by the suits, still revealed the pure terror that had seized them. One of them, wriggling desperately, tried to straighten up, his trembling hands raised in a gesture of supplication.

"Please… please…" he stammered, his voice broken by fear and pain.

His eyes searched for a trace of humanity in Fang Yuan's gaze, but they found only coldness, a dark abyss devoid of compassion.

The other man, panting, slowly backed up on his elbows, as if he could still escape what was coming.

"We didn't mean to… it was a mistake…!" he shouted, his voice rising in a crescendo of panic.

But Fang Yuan didn't flinch. His eyes, black as night, remained fixed on them, two icy orbs, silent witnesses to their terror. Their pleas, their screams, all of it was noise to him, sounds that had no hold on his hardened soul. Every fiber of his being had been trained for this kind of moment, to decide between life and death with implacable efficiency.

He advanced slowly,

Ploc

his movements precise and controlled,

Ploc

each step reinforcing the inevitable.

Ploc

Without a word, Fang Yuan leaned over the first man, the one who had begged for mercy. He gave him no chance to escape, no opportunity to find a way out. His claws moved with fearsome speed and precision. In one fluid movement, he slit the man's throat, a quick, clean gesture. The scream died in his throat, replaced by a bloody gurgle. Blood spurted out in a red rain, splashing the ground, and the man's eyes froze, his body falling heavily in a final spasm.

The second man, witnessing this summary execution, let out a scream of terror. His voice broke in the thick air, a desperate, heartbreaking sound, like an animal caught in a trap. He tried to crawl, to get away from this incarnation of death that was inexorably approaching. But Fang Yuan was already upon him, implacable.

"No, no... please..." The last word was choked as Fang Yuan raised his clawed hand, and in a final silent prayer, the man closed his eyes, hoping for a miracle that would never come.

The blow came as quickly as the last. The organic blade, a fusion of his control over his body and his will, pierced the man's throat with disconcerting ease. Blood spurted again, drenching the ground with a thick, sticky liquid.

The man's body collapsed, joining that of his companion in a grotesque pose of death. Fang Yuan stood still for a moment, watching the result of his work with an unreadable expression. His claws, still dripping with blood, slowly retracted, returning to their original shape, his hands becoming simple but murderous again. The feeling of the warm blood on his skin didn't bother him; it was a reminder of the life he had chosen, or rather, the one who had chosen it.

There was no glory in what he had just done, just cold, pragmatic necessity. These men had chosen their path, and they had met their end. He finally turned around, leaving the inert bodies behind. He approached Ming, who stood next to Tom, his gaze still marked by the horror of what he had seen.

"Ming," Fang Yuan said in a calm but firm voice.

Ming, trembling, watched the scene in mute horror. His eyes, initially wide with disbelief, widened even more upon seeing Fang Yuan. The latter's worn clothes were now covered in blood spatters, the once modest fabrics transformed into a macabre canvas. The blood, dark and thick, had embedded itself into the fibers, drawing chaotic patterns, as if the fabric itself had absorbed the violence of the moment.

But it was his hands that truly captured Ming's attention. They were blood red, bits of flesh stuck to his skin, stuck under his nails, a grotesque sight that was anything but human, and covered in a sticky liquid that slowly dripped from his fingers onto the ground, forming small puddles that seemed to spread, mixing with the dust and debris.

And then there were Fang Yuan's eyes. Those black eyes, which usually held a glimmer of life, a hint of humanity, were now empty, utterly indifferent. They were as dark and unfathomable as a starless night, a deep darkness where nothing remained, where light could not penetrate. The spark of life that had sometimes shone within them seemed to have been extinguished, replaced by an icy, terrifying void.

Fang Yuan stood there, motionless, his breathing calm and steady despite the carnage he had just caused. His face remained impassive, devoid of all emotion, as if it had been carved from stone.

"The sad man," he said in a low but clear voice, each word carried with a deep gravity, "will always try to find happiness in the misfortune of others, but it is in this fleeting happiness that he will find his doom."

Fang Yuan continued, his tone relentless, imbued with hard-won wisdom. "Seeking to soothe one's own pain by inflicting it on others only feeds the beast within, the one that eventually devours everything human in us. This happiness is but an illusion, a mirage in the desert of suffering. And those who give in to it are doomed to their own doom."

Ming's heart was pounding, resonating in his ears like a deafening drum. He felt his throat tighten, his hands growing clammy as he tried to comprehend what he had just seen. His thoughts swirled in a disordered chaos, trying to find an anchor.

Ming felt an icy chill run down his spine, every fiber of his being instinctively repulsed by what he saw. Yet he couldn't look away. The scene was too brutal, too real to ignore. He had seen Fang Yuan perform extraordinary acts in the past, things that defied human comprehension. But what he had just seen was beyond anything he had ever imagined, pushing the limits of his perception of the world.

Yet, deep down, somewhere in that ocean of fear and confusion, a clear thought emerged. He knew, with a chilling certainty, that without Fang Yuan's intervention, he would likely have been killed. The danger they had faced was very real, and Fang Yuan's cold, relentless efficiency was the only reason he was still alive.

"It's time to go."