The rain in the Black Stone Mountains tasted like copper. It washed away the mud, but it could never wash away the smell of blood.
Han Fang stood in the mud, shivering. He was nineteen years old, but his body looked like that of a malnourished fourteen-year-old. His face was pale, his eyes sunken, and his uniform—the grey coarse cloth of a servant disciple of the Iron Bone Sect (Tier 2)—was soaked through.
Before him lay the body of Zhao Feng.
Zhao Feng was an Outer Disciple. He had muscles like twisted roots and the strength to punch through a brick wall. He was a cultivator at the 3rd Stage of Body Tempering. Han Fang, with his crippled meridians, couldn't even lift Zhao Feng's sword.
Yet, Zhao Feng was dead. His eyes were wide open, staring at the stormy sky in disbelief. There were no wounds on his body. No bruises.
"A simple physics problem," Han Fang whispered to himself, his voice raspy.
He looked up at the cliff face above. He had spent three weeks loosening a specific boulder, waiting for the heavy rains to erode the soil just enough. He had calculated Zhao Feng's patrol route down to the second. He had placed a small, shiny spirit coin in the mud—bait.
When Zhao Feng bent down to pick up the coin, he was in the exact trajectory. Han Fang didn't push the rock. He simply removed the small wooden wedge holding it back. Gravity did the rest. The rock had struck Zhao Feng's skull, killing him instantly, then rolled into the rushing river, washing away the evidence.
[Ding.]
A cold, mechanical blue light flared in Han Fang's retina.
[Target Eliminated: Zhao Feng (Body Tempering Stage 3)]
[Judgment: Innocent. The target had no quarrel with you.]
[Reward Calculation: Brutality Bonus + Intellectual Kill Bonus.]
[You have absorbed: 30 Life Essence.]
[Current Status: Cripple -> Recovery 1%]
Han Fang felt a rush of warmth flow through his freezing limbs. The constant pain in his chest, a companion since birth, lessened slightly.
"Only one percent..." Han Fang murmured, his eyes cold and devoid of emotion. "Zhao Feng was innocent. He never bullied me. He actually gave me a steamed bun last week."
Han Fang knelt and closed Zhao Feng's eyes.
"Thank you for the bun. And thank you for your life. I needed it more."
Suddenly, a twig snapped behind him.
Han Fang didn't jump. He turned slowly, his face shifting instantly from a cold killer to a terrified servant.
Standing behind a tree was Little Mei, a kitchen maid. She was trembling, holding a basket of herbs. Her face was pale. She had seen him near the cliff mechanism. She had seen him smiling at the corpse.
"Han... Han Fang?" she stammered. "You... you killed Disciple Zhao?"
Han Fang's mind raced. Calculation started.
Witness: Little Mei.
Strength: Mortal. Weaker than me.
Relationship: Friendly. We grew up in the same orphanage.
Risk Assessment: High. If she speaks, the Law Enforcement Hall will skin me alive.
Han Fang's face crumpled into tears. He fell to his knees. "Mei! Oh, thank the heavens you are here! I found him like this! The rock... it must have fallen!"
Little Mei hesitated, her fear softening. "You... you didn't do it?"
"How could I?" Han Fang sobbed, extending a shaking hand. "Look at me, Mei. I'm a cripple. Zhao Feng is a cultivator. How could I kill a tiger?"
It was a logical argument. In the Murim world, the strong dominated the weak. The idea of an ant killing a dragon was impossible.
Little Mei exhaled, lowering her guard. She stepped forward, reaching out to comfort him. "Oh, Han Fang. I'm sorry. I was just scared. Let's go report this to the Elders."
She walked into the mud, reaching for his hand.
"Yes," Han Fang said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Let's report it."
As she pulled him up, Han Fang used her momentum. He didn't have Qi, but he had a rusty dagger hidden in his sleeve. He didn't stab wildly. He knew exactly where the carotid artery was located from reading the sect's medical scrolls.
Slash.
It was one clean motion.
Little Mei gasped, her hands flying to her neck. Blood sprayed over Han Fang's face, mixing with the rain. She looked at him, betrayal and confusion in her dying eyes.
Han Fang held her as she fell, gently lowering her into the mud next to Zhao Feng. He didn't look away. He watched the light fade from her eyes.
[Ding.]
[Target Eliminated: Little Mei (Mortal)]
[Judgment: Innocent. Target trusted you.]
[Reward: 5 Life Essence.]
[Trait Unlocked: Cold Blooded. (Heart rate will no longer increase during murder).]
Han Fang wiped the blood from his face. He felt no guilt. He felt only the warmth of the Essence repairing his meridians.
"Two down," Han Fang whispered, looking at the dark peaks of the Iron Bone Sect. "Ten thousand to go."
He began to arrange the scene. He placed the dagger in Zhao Feng's cold hand and positioned Little Mei's body to look like she had been struck by the same rock slide.
Tonight was just the beginning. The Iron Bone Sect was full of potential energy, waiting to be harvested.