Beyond the Timescape

Chapter 9: The Consequences of a Threat

I finally broke through.

Xu Qing rose to his feet and threw a punch. A sharp crack echoed through the air, the sheer force of the displaced wind rattling the wooden door of his hut.

His eyes widened. He could feel it—the surging power in his limbs was leaps and bounds beyond what he possessed yesterday. If he faced the Giant Horned Python now, he believed a single punch would shatter its abdominal scales.

Not only that, his senses had sharpened to a razor’s edge. His vision pierced the gloom, and his hearing picked up the faintest rustle. Right now, it picked up a timid knock at the courtyard gate.

Xu Qing frowned. Slipping to the door, he peered through a crack. Bathed in the pale moonlight stood the little girl from the arena, shivering outside his bamboo gate. She looked injured.

He hadn’t planned on answering, but the gentle, persistent knocking continued. After a long moment, Xu Qing pushed the door open and stepped out.

Upon seeing him, the girl visibly stiffened, forcing herself to hold her ground as she looked at him through the bamboo slats.

“What is it?” Xu Qing asked, his voice flat.

“I… I got my residency rights for the camp,” she stammered. “And… and I found a job.”

“Understood.” Xu Qing nodded, turning back.

“Wait! Thank you… I came to thank you,” she quickly added.

“Don’t. I just wanted to eat the snake. It had nothing to do with you,” he said, walking back toward his hut.

Watching his back, the little girl pursed her lips and suddenly called out loudly.

“No matter what, I still owe you my thanks! This debt… I will repay it someday.” She turned and limped away, her figure swallowed by the night.

Xu Qing barely spared her a glance. Back inside, he took a deep breath, cataloging the changes in his body. Survival felt just a little bit more guaranteed.

However, a dull, throbbing sting radiated from his left arm. The Mutagen concentration in his blood was dangerously high; the snake gall hadn’t purged nearly enough of it.

The night was dead quiet, devoid of the usual roars of feral beasts. Xu Qing walked to his bed. He looked at the clean bedding, then down at his grime-caked clothes. Pragmatism won out. He rolled up the clean blankets, set them aside, and lay down on the bare wooden boards in his clothes.

His hand instinctively drew the black iron skewer, his fingers wrapping tightly around the familiar grip as he coaxed himself to sleep. It was his most trusted companion. He had scavenged it from a scrap heap years ago, and its unyielding sharpness had kept him alive ever since.

Tomorrow. I need to find a shop selling White Pills.

He patted his leather pouch. It held his meager life savings and a few valuable gemstones scavenged from the ruined city. He hadn’t dared to take too many gems. Even as a child, he understood that a man’s wealth was his own ruin.

Sleep slowly claimed him, but his grip on the iron skewer never loosened. Not even a fraction.

Sunlight pierced the gloom, signaling the end of a peaceful night.

Xu Qing rose early and left his hut. He glanced at Captain Lei’s room—empty. The old man was likely out. Withdrawing his gaze, Xu Qing headed into the camp.

Perhaps because of the brutal spectacle of him ripping the gall bladder from a living python, he noticed a distinct shift in the atmosphere. The scavengers no longer looked at him like a weak, easy mark ripe for bullying.

Instead, there was recognition. Wariness. Even the hollow-eyed youths lurking in the shadows now watched him with naked envy.

Dignity is carved out with your own hands, Xu Qing thought coldly.

He mapped the camp in his mind as he walked. Packs of feral dogs roamed the dirt paths, snarling over scraps. Most were emaciated, but a few were heavily muscled—sturdier than some of the scavengers.

Once the camp’s layout was firmly etched in his memory, he headed toward the inner ring and found a bustling general store. It seemed to sell everything.

Observing from the outside, he spotted the little girl from the night before. Dressed in a worker’s tunic, she was running herself ragged as an errand girl, sweat beading on her forehead. She noticed him step inside and opened her mouth to speak, but a scavenger immediately barked an order at her.

Xu Qing ignored the wares, his eyes sweeping over the seven other customers. Some browsed, some haggled. Two men stood out—one rotund, the other with a long, horse-like face. They radiated aggressive spiritual energy. The horse-faced man was currently berating the little girl over a perceived slight.

Ignoring her frantic apologies, Xu Qing approached the counter. The shopkeeper, a man with an indifferent face, puffed on a smoking pipe.

“How much for White Pills?” Xu Qing asked calmly.

“Strictly limited. Five a day,” the shopkeeper drawled, barely lifting his eyelids. Recognizing the boy from the beast arena, his tone softened a fraction. “Got two left for today’s quota. Ten spirit coins each.”

Xu Qing frowned. His entire life savings amounted to twenty-three spirit coins. But the burning ache from the Mutation Point on his arm left no room for hesitation. He carefully counted out twenty coins and slid them across the counter.

The shopkeeper swept the coins away, rummaged beneath the counter, and tossed over a small cloth pouch.

Xu Qing opened it. Inside sat two white pills. His frown deepened. The pills were mottled with sickly bluish spots, lacking any medicinal fragrance. They were heavily degraded.

“That’s just how White Pills are in the camp,” the shopkeeper said with a hollow smile, catching Xu Qing’s look. “We don’t get the prime stuff. Even if they look a bit rotten, they still work. Eat ’em and don’t worry.”

Xu Qing was cautious. He wasn’t about to blindly ingest them without asking Captain Lei first. He tied the pouch shut and turned to leave.

Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. He violently twisted his torso to the side.

A hand snatched at the empty air where his shoulder had just been.

Xu Qing’s gaze turned to ice. The horse-faced scavenger who had been screaming at the girl stood there, looking mildly surprised at his miss. Meanwhile, his rotund companion stepped into the doorway, blocking the exit. The fat man grinned, flashing a row of rotting yellow teeth.

“It’s Fat Mountain and Horse Four from the Blood Shadow Squad!” someone muttered.

“That kid was brought in by Captain Lei,” the shopkeeper said coldly. “Thunder and Blood Shadow have never gotten along. I don’t care about your feud, but don’t waste my time. I have a business to run.”

A crowd began to gather outside, watching with morbid curiosity. The little girl looked on in panic, helpless to intervene.

“Don’t worry, this won’t take long,” Horse Four sneered, a vicious glint in his eyes as he looked down at Xu Qing. “Kid, I’ve slaughtered my fair share of Giant Horned Pythons. I won’t make this hard on you. I need White Pills. Hand over your two, and you walk out of here with your life. Refuse, and I’ll slit your throat and take them off your corpse.”

Xu Qing stared at the man’s neck, then at the fat man blocking the door. His mind raced, calculating the variables. Both men radiated spiritual energy—likely at the second level of Qi Condensation.

In a one-on-one, I can kill either of them within ten breaths. Together, it will take longer. But I can still kill them.

However, this was a crowded market. If a fight broke out, the Blood Shadow Squad would swarm the area. He refused to bet his life on Captain Lei arriving in time. Hope was a luxury; control was survival.

Expressionless, Xu Qing’s eyes lingered on Horse Four’s jugular for a fraction of a second. Then, without a word, he tossed the cloth pouch over.

Horse Four caught it, peeked inside, and let out a triumphant bark of laughter. Fat Mountain chuckled and stepped aside.

Xu Qing walked out without looking back.

The crowd murmured in approval. This was the law of the wasteland: the weak are prey to the strong. Knowing when to bow your head was how you survived. The little girl let out a long breath, wiping the cold sweat from her brow.

Fat Mountain and Horse Four swaggered out of the shop, laughing and joking as they strolled down the street.

None of them noticed the shadow that detached itself from the alleyway. Moving with the silent, terrifying patience of a hunting wolf, Xu Qing began to stalk his prey.

Hours bled away. The sky darkened into a bruised purple, then pitch black.

Fat Mountain and Horse Four spent the entire day wandering the camp, completely oblivious to the phantom trailing their every step.

It wasn’t until the moon hung high in the sky that the pair finally split up. Fat Mountain headed toward a roaring bonfire, while Horse Four, a lecherous smirk plastered on his face, veered toward the dimly lit outskirts of the camp, making for a cluster of feather-adorned tents.

Just as Horse Four stepped into a stretch of deep shadow, the faint whisper of displaced air brushed his ears.

Alarmed, he whipped around. Nothing.

His expression shifted, a sudden dread spiking in his chest. He tried to react, but he was already dead.

A small, vice-like hand clamped over his mouth from the side. Simultaneously, a sharp dagger slashed across his throat with zero hesitation.

Schlick.

A geyser of hot blood erupted into the night. Horse Four’s eyes bulged from his skull. He thrashed wildly, but the hand over his mouth possessed terrifying strength, dragging him backward into the abyss. His heels drummed uselessly against the dirt as he was pulled into a dark corner.

Even then, the hand didn’t loosen. Xu Qing waited with chilling patience. He held the man down as he suffocated on his own blood, waiting until the violent spasms faded into weak twitches, and finally, absolute stillness.

Only then did Xu Qing release his grip, letting the drained corpse slump to the ground.

In his final moments of fading consciousness, bathed in the dim moonlight, Horse Four finally saw the face of his killer. It was the expressionless boy from the shop.

Gurgle…

Absolute disbelief flooded Horse Four’s dying eyes. How could the kid who had so meekly surrendered his pills be this ruthless? This decisive? He wanted to scream that his threat in the shop had just been a bluff, that it wasn’t worth dying over…

But his severed windpipe only bubbled with blood. He could only watch in despair as the boy crouched down and methodically rifled through his pockets.

Xu Qing retrieved his two White Pills, along with five extras Horse Four had been carrying. He also pocketed a handful of spirit coins and miscellaneous trinkets.

Once the loot was secured, Xu Qing carefully unwrapped a piece of burlap to reveal the severed head of the Giant Horned Python. With cold efficiency, he proficiently pierced Horse Four’s flesh with the venomous fang.

The corpse convulsed violently. The flesh around the puncture wound began to bubble and melt. The sheer agony of being dissolved alive shattered the last vestiges of Horse Four’s mind.

Xu Qing reached out and covered the man’s eyes.

Horse Four’s world plunged into eternal darkness. His body rapidly liquefied, turning into a puddle of bloody sludge that seeped into the contaminated soil.

Learning from his previous mistakes, Xu Qing pulled out an empty sack, stuffed Horse Four’s bloodied clothes and remaining belongings inside, and vanished into the night.

Moments after he departed, two figures materialized from the shadows near the melting puddle. It was the extraordinary old man in purple robes and his attendant—the same duo who had watched the beast fight unseen.

The old man glanced down at the dissolved remains, then looked up in the direction Xu Qing had vanished. A look of deep appreciation crossed his weathered face.

“A prime seedling. He knows how to endure, yet kills without a shred of hesitation. But what’s truly rare is that despite his ruthlessness, he cleans up his mess perfectly. Not bad at all.”

The attendant looked surprised. He had served the old man for years and rarely heard him praise anyone. This was the second time the boy had caught his master’s eye.

“An interesting little fellow,” the old man chuckled, before casually changing the subject. “How long until Master Bai arrives?”

“Seventh Lord, according to Master Bai’s itinerary, he should reach the camp within a day or two,” the attendant replied respectfully.

“About time. I need to have a proper talk with him. That wretched Purple Earth is nothing but stifling rules. What is there to miss? He’d be much better off living freely in my Seven Blood Eyes.”

The old man laughed heartily, his mood excellent. He cast one last glance into the dark alleys.

“Come. Let’s see what this little wolf pup does next.”