Captain Zhao's call came through, and the moment Ken answered, he was met with a rapid-fire barrage of questions. The first was to confirm whether what Ken had seen was truly the wanted suspect. Ken could hardly admit that his judgment was based on scent alone; naturally, he could not speak with absolute certainty. All he could say was that he was almost sure.
More importantly, after locking eyes with him, the man had actually fled.
When Captain Zhao heard that Ken was in pursuit, his tone sharpened with urgency. He warned him again and again not to act rashly. Their officers were already on the way. Under no circumstances was Ken to attempt an arrest himself—the suspect was vicious, likely armed with a controlled blade, and extremely dangerous.
"Don't worry. I'm not playing the hero," Ken replied calmly. "I'll just keep track of his position and wait for you. You know where I am, right? I've shared my location with you on WeChat…"
As he spoke with Captain Zhao, Ken moved unhurriedly through the street, following the trail of the blond man's scent.
In fact, when someone ran at full tilt, their exertion only intensified the odor they gave off, making tracking far easier for Ken. That was why he felt no need to hurry. In an urban chase, victory was rarely decided by straight-line distance. It wasn't a matter of him running a hundred meters simply because the other man had done so. Often, when the quarry twisted and turned, convinced he had shaken his pursuer, Ken could lock onto his position and cut across twenty meters of alley to intercept him directly.
Ken stopped in front of a narrow passageway—a cramped corridor wedged between two buildings. Perhaps due to renovations or illegal construction, the gap between the structures was unnaturally tight, rendering the passage dark and oppressive. Puddles of stagnant water dotted the ground. Most people, unless forced by circumstance, would never consider entering such a place.
But Ken knew the blond man was hiding there.
He drew the phone slightly away from his ear and listened. From within the passage came the unmistakable sound of labored breathing. The frantic sprint had clearly exhausted him. Ordinarily, at such a distance, with the main street bustling with noise and foot traffic, even heavy panting would go unnoticed. Unfortunately for the man, he had run into Ken.
And even if he could somehow hold his breath, his scent was impossible to conceal.
Ken glanced around, then calmly reported the street name and the shop names flanking the passage to Captain Zhao. With the shared location already sent, he was confident the police would have no trouble finding the place.
To be honest, Ken didn't quite understand what the blond man hoped to accomplish by hiding there. Was he planning to wait until Ken gave up, assumed he had escaped, and then slip away?
Whatever his intentions, Ken had no need to speculate. He would simply stay put and wait for the police. With both scent and sound fixing the man's position, there was no chance of him slipping away through some unseen route.
Although Ken was confident he could subdue the blond man himself, he had no desire to do so. Displaying too much of his unusual abilities would only invite unnecessary attention.
Yet he had stood there for only a few seconds when a slightly breathless voice sounded behind him.
"Hey! Baldy! Who the hell were you cursing just now?"
…
More than an hour earlier.
Zhu Ke'er and Yang Rui were eating at a shop that specialized in salads.
"What about that 'Teacher Saitama' of yours?" Yang Rui asked suddenly, looking at her friend across the table. "Didn't you agree to go hiking together this weekend? Have you two confirmed the time and place? We're leaving the day after tomorrow, aren't we?"
After the string of questions, Zhu Ke'er said nothing, remaining focused on her food.
Having been best friends for years, Yang Rui immediately understood what that silence meant. She raised an eyebrow. "No way. Don't tell me that after that day, you two haven't contacted each other at all?"
Zhu Ke'er shot her a sideways glance. "What's there to talk about? There's no need to chat aimlessly."
"That bald guy is really something—utterly clueless! Serves him right for still being single," Yang Rui huffed.
Zhu Ke'er sighed. In truth, she deeply regretted the messages she had taken the initiative to send after running into Ken downstairs at the gym that day. But what was done was done; there was nothing she could change now.
Of course, she would never admit that aloud. "We're just ordinary friends. Do you chat constantly with every friend you have? I'll confirm the time with him tonight, see if we should pick him up. And Rui—don't give him any looks when the time comes. He hasn't done anything wrong."
"Since when does a blind date turn into 'ordinary friends'?" Yang Rui laughed. "Alright, alright, I'll drop it." She picked up her phone and began scrolling through Weibo.
After a while, she handed the phone over. "Nana, look at this bald guy. Doesn't he look like your 'Teacher Saitama'? That flying kick—his flip-flops even flew off…"
Zhu Ke'er took the phone and glanced at the video. The title had a distinctly urban-legend flair:
'Real Chinese Kung Fu in Action—A Reclusive Urban Warrior Monk Kills a Rampaging Criminal in Two Moves!'
The video itself showed a bald man in a tank top, shorts, and flip-flops launching a flying kick at a knife-wielding assailant, then pouncing forward and dropping him with a single punch, apparently "killing" him. The clip was only a few seconds long, but it was undeniably gripping. Though filmed from a distance, the impact rivaled that of a full-blown action movie.
The video Yang Rui had found was, of course, footage taken by a resident upstairs when Ken intervened to stop an attack on a young couple below. The original recording was longer and far bloodier, showing the couple being stabbed. This version had cut all that out, starting only from the moment Ken burst onto the scene with his flying kick. Paired with the sensational title, it was easy to mistake the man in shorts for some kung fu–practicing monk.
"This really looks like… really looks like Mr. Ken," Zhu Ke'er said suddenly after watching it several times.
Yang Rui froze, took the phone back, and watched again. "No way…" She had only said it looked like Ken because they were both bald, never seriously considering the possibility.
Zhu Ke'er, meanwhile, was already searching on her own phone. "Do you remember what he was wearing the day we ran into him downstairs at the gym? A tank top and shorts—just like in the video."
Then she turned her phone toward Yang Rui. "And this happened on the very same day we saw him at the gym last week. It's right here in our city. Look—this was the news report."
Yang Rui stared at the article and the full video, then looked up in astonishment. "Nana… that 'Teacher Saitama'—he isn't really a warrior monk, is he?"
"A monk, my ass…"
"Heh heh. You have to invite him on that hike this weekend. I need to 'interview' him properly."
Laughing and joking, the two left the restaurant, planning to head to the gym for a yoga class. Since it was still early, they decided to stroll around first, each holding a cup of fruit juice as they wandered the streets.
In the middle of their conversation, Zhu Ke'er suddenly froze. She pointed ahead at a bald man wearing a tank top and shorts, a sports sling bag over his shoulder, his head lowered as he looked at his phone.
"Mr. Ken?"
"No way—what a coincidence!" Yang Rui was delighted as well. She and Zhu Ke'er walked toward him, calling out, "Mr. Ken!"
It wasn't until they were right in front of him that Ken seemed to startle, turning his head in surprise as he noticed them.
This reaction left Yang Rui distinctly displeased. With a hint of reproach in her voice, she said, "Mr. Ken, who are you messaging? We've been calling you for ages—how did you not hear us?" As she spoke, her eyes flicked toward Ken's phone screen.
At that moment, Ken suddenly cursed under his breath, "Damn it," startling her. Then he tossed out a hurried, "We'll talk later," and turned around and walked away.