"Is there a place I can clean up?"
"Yes, sir! Upstairs, down the corridor. There's a washroom there."
Following the directions, Wu Zhe found the place and started bathing, taking off his clothes and scrubbing away the dried blood that clung to his skin. The water ran his skin, stained by blood, before finally clearing. He washed his clothes as well, though the deeper stains would need proper cleaning.
When he was done, he wrapped himself in a towel loosely around his lower body and stepped back into the hall, carrying a his washed garments in one hand.
A passing girl in a cleaner's uniform caught his attention.
"Take these and clean them please. Bring them to the receptionist once you've finished."
The girl flinched the moment she saw him, her body stiffening instinctively. The brutality he committed was seen by most if not all of the employees of the tavern, and for a split second, fear gripped her heart.
But then her gaze shifted.
Her eyes eying his physique. Broad shoulders, a sculpted chest, and firm, well-defined muscles carved like stone. The contrast between the remnants of violence and his appearance stirred something unfamiliar within her.
Her cheeks flushed.
Realizing that she was eying him, she quickly averted her gaze, her grip tightening around the bundle as if to ground herself.
"Y-yes, sir."
She turned and hurried off, her steps slightly unsteady, as though escaping something she didn't fully understand.
Wu Zhe didn't spare her a second glance a went to his room.
He sat down and began mediating his mind solely focused on cultivating, and breaking through.
Approximately two days later.
——————
A doctor stood over an incapacitated boy, his hand resting lightly on the arm of the child wrapped tightly in bandages.
The doctor sighed. "With such injuries, he will likely be unable to cultivate… quite unfortunate…" he muttered, disappointment evident in his voice.
"You fucking useless idiots!" a man beside the doctor shouted upon hearing the news. He threw a cup across the room. It shattered against the wall, sending shards skittering across the floor.
His glare sweeping over the kneeling, dismembered men.
"I was gone for a single day! One damn day, and you fools couldn't even do your job! How did my brother end up like this, when you swore up and down that you'd protect him?!"
The armless men remained silent, heads bowed, eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet his gaze.
His attention shifted to his brother, lying bedridden, bloodied bandages covering his eyes. Rage bubbling inside him.
"Who's the bastard that did this?!" he shouted, voice filled with anger.
——————
As Wu Zhe awoke, a sudden, frantic knocking came from his door, the knocks sounded urgent, and desperate.
He got up and opened it. Little Xue rushed inside and slammed the door shut behind her, her face filled with worry.
"Sir Huang! Please, leave now! Dangerous people are looking for you!" she muttered, her volume was between a whisper and a shout at the same time.
"Huh?" Wu Zhe stared at her blankly.
"The boy you gauged… his brother is a cultivator! He's currently in the tavern, looking for you! Please, Sir Huang, you need to leave it's dangerous!" She grabbed his hand, her eyes pleading.
Wu Zhe gently moved her hand and her aside. "Child… what did I tell you about worrying over me?" he said, shaking his head as he reached out for the door.
Little Xue lunged to pull him back, but it was too late. Wu Zhe had already opened it.
"Where is that bastard?!" a voice shouted. Wu Zhe's eyes landed on a man throwing a fit, surrounded by the same armless men he had dismembered. To his surprise, the frail homeless man was there as well, but not near the enraged man, he was sitting alone at a table, calmly drinking and ignoring everything happening.
"You're looking for me?" Wu Zhe asked, his gaze fixed on the man.
"You?"
The man turned to the armless men, seeking confirmation. They all nodded frantically.
"You! You bastard! Who the hell do you think you are, daring to harm my brother?!" he roared. "He would've become a cultivator, but now he's all ruined because of you!"
The man unsheathed his sword, Qi crackling and swirling violently around it.
"Ironic. Your brother said the same thing… shouting, 'Who the hell do you think you are?' Well, that was until I gouged his eyes out. Care for the same treatment?" Wu Zhe sneered.
Rage built up in the man's face as he suddenly leapt forward, his sword raised high, Qi enveloping around the blade.
"Die! You arrogant bastard!" he shouted.
Little Xue's eyes widened in terror. She turned away, unable to watch what was about to unfold.
"Silence," Wu Zhe muttered, drawing his own sword.
As the man reached Wu Zhe he striked downward, aiming to split him in two with a single slice.
As the man was about to strike, Wu Zhe raised his other hand, Qi enveloping it as he parried the blow and slammed the man to the ground. The impact sent a shock through the man's body, but before he could react or even rise, Wu Zhe moved.
Almost simultaneously with the parry, Wu Zhe drove his sword that was enveloped with Qi straight into the man's stomach.
The man froze, lifted into the air by Wu Zhe's sword, blood pouring from the wound and running along his blade.
"Cultiva—"
Before the man could even speak, Wu Zhe twisted his sword, hurling him to the tables. The blood gushing uncontrollably as the sword was unwedged.
Wu Zhe instantly rushed to him stabbing him again as leaned in, pressing the sword deeper. Then suddenly he pulled the man into his embrace, forcing the sword even deeper into him.
The man groaned, panic overtaking him as he began punching Wu Zhe desperately, his fists landing wildly in a futile attempt to break free from his embrace.
His eyes filled with pure terror.
Annoyed, Wu Zhe yanked the sword out and, in a one single strike, chopped down the man's arms, silencing his resistance.
With his other free hand, Wu Zhe released him from his embrace and seized his throat, lifting him slightly. His grip tightened as his thumb pressed into the man's neck. Qi gathered at his fingertips, then pressed it.
As he pressed on it a small puncture formed.
The man's body trembled, his eyes widening as he felt a helpless despair.
"Mer—"
Before he could finish, Wu Zhe grabbed the hilt of his sword and drove it into the man's head again and again, each strike silencing whatever words he wished to speak.
Seconds passed.
The man's body went limp.
His face was no longer recognizable.
Wu Zhe released his grip, letting the man's limp body collapse to the ground. He knelt beside him and began carving into his neck.
Then came a sickening sound, like something tearing free.