They watched the timer and waited. When thirty minutes ended, both group exploded into motion — boots thudding, shouts cutting the air. Hunters fanned out across the field, spilling into the tree line like a swarm.
Soho and his men ran together, sprinting low and fast. After a few paces they halted; one of Soho's companions knelt and pointed. "There — a footprint," he hissed. "Fresh. How can that be?"
Soho crouched, eyes narrowing. He spat a small curse and barked an order. "Skater — you go after that trail. Don't let the General's men close in on him. If the General catches Ming, end it. Understood?"
A chorus of gruff agreement answered him. Men peeled off and scattered into different directions, each following a lead as if the field itself were a puzzle to be solved.
The same situation unfolded on the General's side. His soldiers swept through the forest edge, blades drawn, eyes sharp — but Ming was nowhere to be found. Not a single trace.
Frustration began to rise among the ranks. The General raised his hand, signaling them to stop. "He's here somewhere," he said calmly. "We're not chasing shadows. Spread out — cover more ground."
At once, his men split into smaller units, fanning out across the dense trees just as Soho's group had done. The forest grew alive with movement — distant voices, snapping twigs, the low thrum of tension.
But Ming… was nowhere to be seen.
What they didn't know was that the forest wasn't just a place to Ming — it was his second home.
Every root, every whisper of wind between the branches was familiar to him.
Here, he wasn't the hunted.
He was the shadow that decided who would be found and who would disappear.
In this forest, no one could find Ming… unless he wanted them to.
Night finally fell. The forest, once loud with shouts and footsteps, had grown silent — only the crackle of torches and the hum of insects remained. No one had found Ming.
Then, a red flare shot into the sky. Its glow painted the trees in crimson light — the signal to stop the hunt.
Down by a lake, one of Soho's companions name Lian caught sight of the flare. He frowned, recognizing the signal, and muttered under his breath, "Damn it… where did that brat go?"
He kicked at the dirt near the water's edge and glanced around. The lake shimmered with the reflection of the red flare above, still burning. For a moment, everything was quiet — too quiet.
Then came the sound.
A faint rustle, low and deliberate, from the bushes behind him.
The man froze. His hand went to the hilt of his sword, eyes narrowing toward the darkness. The forest, calm a second ago, suddenly felt alive again.
Then, from the dark, Ming stepped out — hands raised, like he was about to surrender.
The man near the lake froze, his lips curling into a cunning smile.
"So… you were here."
He pointed his sword at Ming. "Let's go."
Ming's face showed no emotion.
"I have to tell them we found you," the man continued, lowering his blade slightly. "But if I send a signal, the General will know too… and that won't end well for you. So just come quietly."
He turned his back, confident Ming wouldn't dare try anything.
That was his life biggest mistake
Ming moved like a shadow. In a single, fluid motion he drew his short blade and drove it into the man's shoulder. The man cried out, staggered — then, furious, shoved Ming with both hands. Ming tumbled back, hit the ground, and rolled to his feet as the man lurched forward, blood darkening his sleeve.
Lian face snapped from surprise to a cold, red fury. He ripped the blade free from his shoulder with a wet sound and spat on the ground. His eyes pinioned on Ming, all humour gone.
"You think I won't kill you?" he hissed, voice raw. "You think this won't cost you your life? No — you crossed the line." He raised his sword, the blade catching the flare's blood-red light. "First I'll make you feel a hundred times the pain I felt."
Ming's face did not answer. He stood stone-still, expressionless as a statue, the light in his eyes hard and quiet — waiting.
Lian staggered back, clutching his shoulder. His balance faltered, and he fell to the ground with a dull thud. Ming stepped closer, a faint smile carving across his face like a blade. He placed the sole of his boot against the man's cheek and leaned in.
"This is a poison my father taught me," Ming said, voice soft and cold. "If someone is wounded by it, they die. But your Qi… it's holding it back. It's suppressing the toxin. If that's true, then I have heary.
Lian spat blood, eyes wild. "You think my companions will let you go if I die?"
Ming's expression didn't change. "You think I'm afraid of death?
then pressing a handful of damp grass into the Lian mouth to silence him. he take a big stone looking at this.
Lian tried to crawl back, but his body refused to obey. The poison had already stolen his strength.
Then Ming drop that big stone at Line lag a sharp crunch, like glass shattering deep in the night. Lian tried to shout, but no sound escaped his mouth. His throat burned, his breath caught — silence was all that answered him. Panic filled his eyes as he looked up.
Ming stood there, motionless at first, then slowly smiled — a crooked, unsettling smile that didn't reach his eyes. It was the kind of smile that made the world feel wrong, as if something inside him had finally cracked.
Lian's heart pounded. The boy before him no longer looked human — not angry, not sad — just… empty. Yet that emptiness carried something terrifying, something that almost looked like joy.
The forest around them held its breath. Even the wind refused to move.
Lian's tears slid down his face, soundless in the dark. Ming tilted his head, watching with quiet curiosity. Then, almost gently, he crouched down and wiped one away with his thumb.
"Why are you crying?" he asked softly, a faint smile curving his lips. "We're just getting started."
His voice wasn't cruel — it was calm, almost tender, and that made it worse.
Something inside him had already cracked, and through that crack, something darker had begun to grow.
For the first time since his fall, Ming felt something close to happiness — a quiet, twisted sense of control. The pain of others dulled the pain inside him. And as that thought took root, his smile deepened.
The forest stood still around him, listening to the birth of something far more dangerous than hatred — a boy who had learned to find comfort in suffering.
then he get out his short sword and start separating his Flesh form his bons like butchering an anime. but he was human and alive.
Lian, looking at the scene, tried to bite his own tongue to escape the pain, but Ming didn't let that happen. After suffering from intense pain and blood loss, Lian eventually collapsed. His body went still, but his eyes remained wide open — frozen in terror, as if he had seen a monster before the end.
Ming look at his body one side was bone and other side pile to Flesh then Ming look at sky
A strange smile crept across Ming's face. He felt a twisted sense of happiness watching people in pain — and that moment became the trigger for his hunger for power.Because he believed that with power, he could do anything — just like the Emperor and the alliance leader who destroyed his family.
"If I suffer, I will make you all suffer. I want to see the same terror in your eyes — the same fear I feel. The problem is I never learned any martial arts, and by luck I found a plant of poisons. I can't keep it hidden forever. What should I do?"
"A crow sat upon the tree, its black eyes reflecting every secret that unfolded below."
Then Ming hung Lian's body from a tree, tossed his flesh into the lake, and once again vanished into the shadows.
Soho spun, eyes blazing. "Where's Lian? Someone answer me!"
"The flare was seen — he should've come back," another voice said. "Search everywhere. If General Man's involved, we'll make him pay."
The doubt about General Man cut deep. Lian was a second-grade martial artist so there is only one group left how might do something to Lian and the General group ; he wouldn't simply vanish. None of them had breached the Read Line — The Read Line is a place where people go and never return. Monsters roam that land — that's why it's called Monster Valley. Only one person, the First Emperor, ever came back alive from there.