“Boss, there’s two people coming,” a male voice called down from the treetop.

  After hearing no response, the man tried again, his tone more urgent.

  “Boss!”

  “What?!”

  A good-looking young man dressed in fine yellow robes sprang up from a lounge chair, which was tucked behind a small thicket on the side of the narrow dirt road. He wiped a trickle of saliva from his chin, blinking several times in quick succession to force his bleary eyes to focus against the bright sunlight.

  “Boss, two people are coming our way,” the man at the top of the tree repeated, his voice strained.

  “Excellent, get down here then.” The yellow-robed man stretched his back with a theatrical groan, then clapped his hands twice in quick succession. “Everyone, wake up! We have visitors, so make sure to look presentable. Sweetcheeks, do something with your hair, it looks like a drunk bird’s nest. Lads, don’t embarrass your Boss in front of our new clients. Come on, straighten your robes, push out your chests, brandish your weapons!”

  A ragtag group of seven unshaved qi cultivators, reeking of stale wine, slowly stood up from behind the bushes and shuffled onto the road. The massive man called Sweetcheeks spat on his calloused hand, patting down his wild hair with little effect.

  “Boss, please don’t call me Sweetcheeks. My name is Pog,” he complained in a deep, rumbling voice.

  “If Boss King says you’re Sweetcheeks, then that’s who you are.” The yellow-robed man’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “Or maybe you want to be Boss? Hmm? Did my Sweetcheeks grow up already?”

  Pog instantly started to sweat, waving his huge hands in a frantic, placating motion. “No, no! Boss is Boss! I was wrong Boss, please forgive me.”

  Boss King smiled with satisfaction. “Good. Don’t forget I’m at the great circle of Qi Condensation, while you’re at the eighth stage. Not to mention I’m handsome and smart, so it’s only natural for me to lead. Right, lads?” He turned toward the others.

  “Yes, Boss!” the disheveled group of low-level cultivators answered in unison, standing at a clumsy attention. They looked like a bunch of crooked teeth inside a homeless man’s mouth.

  “Very good. Now stand behind me and try to look dangerous.”

  Not a breath later, two large silhouettes emerged from the deep woods some three hundred feet away, gradually making their way down the road.

  “Eyesore!” Boss King gritted his teeth, turning towards the miserable-looking man who had descended from the tree. “Did you not think it worth mentioning these two were kind of big?”

  “Sorry Boss! My eyes are not that good…” Eyesore defended himself in a pleading voice. “They were far away, and it was too dark.”

  “How was it too dark?! It’s the middle of the fucking day!” King roared, his face flushing with frustration.

  “S…sorry, Boss, I meant… bright! It was too bright.” Eyesore looked like he was about to cry.

  “Explain to me, how do you even confuse dark with bright?!” King snapped, the veins on his forehead bulging.

  Eyesore just stood there, nervously fidgeting with his hands and looking utterly pathetic. It took King several deep breaths to calm down before he waved him off in disgust.

  “Eh, why do I even bother with these people,” he muttered, sighing. “Nevermind. I can already sense the bigger one is only in the seventh stage, and the red-robed one doesn’t even seem to cultivate. Sweetcheeks, we’re going to feel them out. Hopefully they won’t be stupid enough to fight. If they do, let’s just knock them around a little. We’re here for their stuff, not to end up on wanted posters,” King ordered. Sweetcheeks nodded eagerly, an ugly smile spreading across his face.

  As Cade and Gorgo approached the group blocking the road, the yellow-robed youth in the forefront cleared his throat.

  “These trees were planted by me, this road was built by me. I am Boss King Dong, and whoever passes through my forest has to pay a fee!” he theatrically proclaimed.

  Gorgo and Cade glanced at each other, a shared look of weary resignation on their faces. This was the fourth time someone had attempted to rob them. It took them over three weeks to get this close to Kettle, and even here, less than ten miles from the city, someone still tried to take their things. The fact that these small-time bandits couldn’t detect Cade’s life cultivation always made him look like a tempting, vulnerable target.

  “Those trees are at least a few hundred years old, and this crappy dirt path is no road,” Gorgo flatly stated.

  “Sweetcheeks,” called out Boss King, hands clasped behind his back.

  The huge man with a long, metal rod in his hand stepped forward, immediately roaring at the duo. “You! Smelly gray one! And you! Ugly red one! If the Boss says the sky is blue, then it is blue! If he says you have to pay, then you pay, or I will crush your stupid heads!”

  “But the sky has always been blue,” Cade pointed out, his tone matter-of-fact.

  At that moment, Sweetcheeks’s facial expression looked as though he had just stepped on a giant dog turd. “Ugly one, you think you’re smart, huh? Would you rather be not-so-smart and alive or smart and dead?!”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  He walked toward Cade, stopping right in front of him. He was slightly shorter than Cade, a little wider, but also much thicker everywhere—all of it solid muscle. The man’s spiritual fluctuations came in slow, steady waves, which told Cade he was a body cultivator in the eighth stage of Qi Saturation. A sour odour slammed into his nostrils. This man was not an easy opponent, but thanks to his blood qi ignition technique, Cade wasn’t too concerned.

  “I’m just saying it made no sense in that context,” Cade shrugged.

  “What?” Confused, Sweetcheeks glanced hesitantly at Boss King, who furrowed his brows and gestured sharply with his head towards Cade. Sweetcheeks gritted his teeth and looked at Cade once again with a gloomy expression.

  “Red Robe, why are you so ugly? Were your parents dogs?” he barked out.

  Cade’s expression darkened instantly. The air grew cold. He could tolerate a lot, but not some dirty road thug insulting his parents.

  The first time they were attacked, the young Asura had misgivings about killing people, even though they were criminals. He avoided final blows, instead attempting to disable his opponents. Because of his indecisiveness, he nearly lost an arm, while Gorgo took a saber to the gut. The gray warrior only shook his head, wincing as he swallowed his last healing pill. He said nothing, but Cade could sense the deep disapproval in his silence.

  This hesitation evaporated on the day they discovered two mutilated beastborn women, their corpses thrown in a shallow ditch like garbage. The bandits had used them in disgusting ways for days, maybe weeks. Their victims’ final reward was a torturous death.

  Gorgo was right, and he was wrong. However, Cade was a quick learner. His conscience became the deciding factor, and as long as he felt killing someone would make the world a better place, his hand would no longer waver. Actually, he felt pretty good about killing all the bandits so far. As their cultivation was low, their blood essence was nothing special, but still—it was sustenance.

  Not bothering with wasting further words, the thick cords of muscle covering Cade’s neck tensed as his whole body was flooded with a large amount of ignited blood qi.

  Noticing the shift in the red-robed man’s expression, the brute smiled nastily, his arm holding the metal rod twitching in anticipation. Even though King told him never to kill, Sweetcheeks didn’t always listen. He enjoyed hurting others.

  Just as he was about to make his move, Cade’s body blurred forward, his head striking with a speed that would put a ballista bolt to shame. His forehead, hardened with ignited blood qi, slammed into the large man’s nose bridge with a force capable of pulverizing granite. He put everything he had into that single blow, the capillaries in his eyes bursting from effort.

  The sudden attack carried immense force, its speed nearly impossible for the mortal eye to follow. The powerful upper back muscles that let the Asura bite into prey and tear out its throat proved just as effective in other situations.

  Sweetcheeks didn’t even have time to blink before his head exploded on impact, like an overripe fruit smashed against a wall. His lifeless fingers still clutched the metal rod, and the heavy thud of his body echoed as it crashed backward to the ground.

  All the bandits stood in a state of complete shock, staring with their mouths half open.

  Boss King Dong was likewise rooted in place, his knees trembling under his fine robe. Sweetcheeks might have been dumb as a rock, but as far as body cultivators went, the huge man was tougher than a coffin nail in winter. King knew there was no way he could have killed him so easily. Forget one move; he doubted five moves would have been sufficient.

  A shout from the red-robed man interrupted his anxious deliberations.

  “You, Ding Dong! Get over here. The rest of you, either fuck off or die,” Cade said coldly. Simple and decisive language worked best with these people. He began wiping off the blood and bits of brain matter with a thin linen tunic he pulled out of his storage ring. His longcoat was likely beyond cleaning. It was moments like these that he greatly appreciated Master Lao Ren’s foresight in leaving dozens of spare sets of clothes in his ring.

  The bandits didn’t bother waiting for their boss's approval and immediately legged it, running for their lives into the woods.

  King Dong’s back was drenched in cold sweat. Taking on a pleasing expression, he quickly approached Cade, cupping his fist and bowing zealously every other step. “Senior, this junior reports his name is King Dong. I apologize for having such a stupid name, my father is an idiot.”

  Cade’s eyebrow lifted. “Ding, King, who cares? Hand over your spatial ring, Dung,” he commanded in a deadpan voice, trying very hard to ignore Gorgo’s twitching face in the corner of his vision.

  Swallowing the offense with a smile, King Dong immediately took off his ring, presenting it to Cade with both hands. “Senior, I always felt this ring was too good for me. Junior hopes Senior will accept this meager trinket.”

  Cade took it, briefly checked the contents, then gestured at the road with his chin. “Alright, scram.”

  King Dong’s face lit up. “Thank you, Senior! Junior has urgent matters requiring his attention, so please forgive me for leaving so soon!” The young man bowed twice more, then turned and ran as if legions of hell were chasing him, yellow robe fluttering wildly.

  Gorgo was finally unable to hold it in and burst out laughing. “Brother, I bow to your ability to mispronounce names.” He wiped away tears from his eyes, gradually regaining composure.

  If the bandits had attacked full-force, Gorgo and Cade would have been in trouble. Even if most were weak, they had the numbers. He was certain they would have eventually defeated the group, but not without paying a bloody price.

  Glancing at the body in front of Cade, Gorgo shook his head. “Some people act like they can’t wait to reincarnate. Nothing you can do but lend them a hand, you know? Or a head. So, how did we do this time?”

  Cade smiled knowingly, silently passing him the ring. His tumultuous blood qi had already mostly calmed down. As most trade goods arrived in Kettle by air, there was little reason for patrols this far out, which made the roads prime hunting grounds. This particular path, where three roads from different beastborn tribes merged, was a high-traffic area, which meant a lot of potential loot.

  Gorgo traced the ring with his thumb, then whistled in appreciation, his pupils widening. “Robbing the robbers is really the best way to make a living. It’s a shame there is no way to return these crystals to their rightful owners,” the gray giant pondered aloud.

  “Why were they even here?” Cade asked, unable to understand these people. He grew up around hard-working folk. “Since they had the luck to be born with a decent cultivation talent, why not join a sect, work your way up, make something out of yourself instead of skulking in the forest, robbing others?”

  “They don’t want to put in the work. Laziness. It’s that simple,” Gorgo said. “Nobody forced them here. They want an easy life, to reap without sowing. It’s a good thing you dispatched the big guy the way you did. It saved us from having to kill all of them, and I doubt we’d have come out unscathed.”

  Cade nodded. After their first ambush, he realized bandits valued strength and nothing else. There was no point in wasting words. The best thing one could do was strike first and overwhelm them with absolute power.

  “Come,” Gorgo said, patting Cade on the shoulder, “we’re almost there.”

  The duo continued following the road, leaving the big man’s corpse behind for the animals to feast on, as Kettle’s enormous walls loomed in the distance.