“You’re scared,” he said, like it was a fact. “It’s understandable. We all are, to one degree or another. The total annihilation of the Black Sons was a shock to everyone. That it happened over the course of a single night, even more so. It was not something any of us expected, I’m sure,” more grumbling at this—the angry kind a man makes when he’s fearful but won’t show it.

“Now. I cannot say that I come to you with the perfect solution. I can only say that I come to you now with a solution. The only one you’re likely to get. I cannot serve you Yexing Cangying’s head on a golden platter, for instance. Indeed I would much rather have you serve yourselves, should you insist upon it.”

There was a general feeling of confusion in response to this, whispered words shared between neighbors, trying to parse the meaning of his words.

“Before we get to any of that, however, I want to pose a question that is pertinent to every man and woman here. And I implore that you set aside your enmities and prejudices for the time being, and hold your judgement till the very end. If you’ve ever held faith in me or my word, I would ask that you permit me that much, at least. And, should you still find my words disagreeable by the end of it, you need do nothing more than that. All I ask is that you listen,” the old man paused then, searching the assembly as if for even a grunt of dissent.

There was none. The old man nodded.

“Then I ask you, what are we afraid of? I know it may seem like a simple question. A man, surely. A demon? Quite possibly. However, I would beg to disagree. I will be the first to admit that the erasure of the Black Sons, while scary in its implication, has only bettered that of myself and my people. Indeed I would go so far as to say many of you here have gained much in the wake of this sudden upheaval.”

A few nods from the crowd. He even thought he saw a few smiles.

“And the Night Runners? I’m sure you’ve had your suspicions, but I can now say with confidence that their recent inner turmoil has not been natural,” hushed murmurs of, “Yexing Cangying,” rippled through the crowd. “Moreover, can you honestly say that you’re terribly sorry for their strife? Do you, any of you, weep over their misfortune?”

More tentative murmurs. Jin had to say he agreed with them. The night runners were the worst kind of bastards, and they’d all known it. It was just, they’d been so large that no one could do a thing about it. Well, until he came along, that is.

“Have you ever wondered why it is that only some of our member are affected by his predations? Or if there might be a reason, a justification behind his actions? Something behind these attacks beyond the mere petty acts of violence carried out by a bloodthirsty man?”

Less agreeable murmurs this time. The assembly clearly didn’t like where this was going.

“I stress all of this to say- to ask, rather, is it the simple idea that it might happen to us next that truly frightens us? Or is it the knowledge that some day, sooner or later, he will come for you as well? That the knowledge of your crimes makes that visit an inevitability?”

The lower level assembly was in an uproar now.

Men and women jumping to their feet. Shouting, screaming, slamming meaty fists onto expensive looking tables. Jin, seated in the back corner, was first and foremost keen on seeing how things played out.

Which was why he was one of the first on the ground floor to notice how many in the room, those on the upper levels especially, hadn’t leapt to their feet in protest, and were instead patiently biding their time. Keeping their hands close to their chests, their faces impassive.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop, he soon realized.

Three more raps of the old man’s cane brought a begrudging silence to the room.

“I know it may be hard for many of you to believe, but only one night hence did I speak to this “Hidden Shadows at Night,” character, as we have labeled him, and I discovered that he is not inherently opposed to the idea of a criminally run organization. It is merely the way some choose to go about their business dealings, and the lines many choose to cross that he takes issue with.”

There was another prolonged session of fist pounding, and red faced wailing, before three sound raps brought them back to attention.

“I come to you today, not as a leader, but as a messenger. He is amenable to the offering of terms. And quite generous ones at that, you’ll find. And in exchange? He promises not only our continued existence, but our complete autonomy. Just so long as we hold to a handful of honorable principles. In any event, I thought you should know that I’ve since had my own people look over the details, and signed the contract last night.”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

If the previous uproars had been uproarious, now the room practically exploded with disbelief and indignation. The old man, Lou Fang, merely produced a shit-eating grin, as if thoroughly enjoying the shouted vitriol and outrage.

This time, he let the uproar tire itself out naturally.

When at last tempers had, if not cooled, then quieted significantly, Lou Fang continued as if the interruption had never been—the faint glimmer of that same smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“I understand that you may have your reservations. No. It would be more accurate to say I expected them. Which is why I convinced our resident Yexing Cangying to join us this evening, and explain his terms to you in person.”

Ah. There it was. The other shoe had dropped.

And just like that, atop the stage, from behind a long velvet curtain, their Yexing Cangying emerged.

He was… a lot shorter than Jin had been expecting.

Lou Fang quickly stepped aside, using his cultivated strength to leap to the second story balcony. From his newfound place of safety, he belatedly called out.

“Oh. And if you have any questions concerning his generous terms, I would suggest you take it up with the man himself.”

The growing roar quickly became a cacophony, as nearly all of the gang members on the ground floor, and some from the second, mindlessly rushed the stage. A hundred odd people, all things told.

From his place near the back, Jin briefly entertained the idea of joining in on the mad rush.

He couldn’t deny his blood was up, and his mind whirled with thoughts of redemption. Of sweet revenge and righting wrongs. The idea of getting even a single good kick in on the bastard who’d haunted many a sleepless night, was almost too good to pass up.

And yet…?

The newfound caution this very man had instilled in him inevitably stayed his hand. Instead, much like those in the upper stands, he simply chose to sit back and observe.

The first to reach him were those gifted with cultivation. They weren’t a rare sight within the underworld, but they weren’t especially common either. Twenty men and women broke away from the crowd, converging upon the diminutive form of the cloak-wrapped Yexing Cangying, moving at speeds a mortal man simply could not match.

Jin leapt atop his table and craned his neck, not wanting to miss whatever came next. The twenty odd cultivators were barely a stone's throw from Yexing Cangying now, many a concealed weapon brandished high. Most of them favored his chosen weapon, the dao, though he thought he saw a few gun, jian, and, to his great surprise, even a qiang or two thrown into the mix.

Emperor’s balls! And here I’d thought my dao hard to conceal. However did they manage that? Did they stick it up their ass?

Jin was barely given a second to snicker at the implication, before the first of the cultivators, a large man wielding a gleaming qiang spear of all things, came within striking distance. As the man thrust the long reached weapon in a well practiced lunge, Jin genuinely thought that might be the end of it.

There was the clang of steel on steel as, as if from thin air, Yexing Cangying produced the curved length of a dao saber. Too fast for his eyes to track, the cloaked terror deflected the lightning spear thrust—shattering its shining tip into hundreds of glittering pieces.

Once, he’d thought the saying another of those flowery and unrealistic expressions. The ones you often heard spouted by those same untalented poets you rarely saw outside the red light district. And yet, to his astonished eyes, the flying shards of metal indeed appeared to glitter.

To shimmer through the air with a ruby red luster.

What happened next, he could not have said, even under threat of torture. It simply happened too fast for him to register. One moment, the lithe spearman was gaping at the state of his broken weapon, and the next, his entire upper half was just… gone.

Splattered across the faces of what forerunners led the reckless charge. Bringing them to a sudden, blinded halt, before the momentum of the mortals they’d left behind carried them inexorably forward. To Jin’s eye, the cocky cultivators didn’t look so anxious to taste blood as they once had only moments before.

Perhaps it was because they’d already had their fill?

The scene repeated itself time and time again, as terrified cultivators swung with reckless abandon. Unable to retreat for the press of enraged bodies at their back. Some few on the edges were quick and nimble enough to launch themselves onto the second story balcony, but as for the rest…?

The curved head of a kuang dao swung down like the falling of a meteor, while simultaneous strikes from dao sabers and straight swords swept in from every side. As if his foes were moving underwater, Yexing Cangying deflected each strike respectively. Although, he didn’t so much deflect as overpower his opponents entirely. Sparks flew, blades shattered, the flying shards ominously glittered.

Glowed a demonic red many were beginning to think anything but natural, before heads were pulped, bodies were erased, and the remaining bits were scattered all across the heads of the remaining cultivators.

By now, many of those cultivators who’d witnessed the fate of their fellows, had begun to cut their way through the mass at their back. Willing to face the ire of the enraged crowd, over their certain death at the hands of Yexing Cangying.

They were witnessing first hand, unveiled before their very eyes in raw, unfiltered, bowel watering detail, the true nature of the calamity which had befallen the Black Sons.

And it was a sight to strike terror into the blackened hearts of even the most jaded souls among them. By all accounts, Yexing Cangying had not received even a single scratch during the short lived engagement, and already, fifty men and women lay dead at his feet.

So mangled, so mutilated, that not even their families would’ve been able to recognize them. The stream of rushing bodies slowed, and hot tempers swiftly cooled, as those in the very back of the crowd were finally made to witness the scene of carnage they’d been plunging towards.

Many stumbled back, many more were sick, and everyone had locked eyes on the lone figure of Yexing Cangying—not a drop of blood on his fine gray cloak.

“So!” came the surprisingly chipper voice of the young monster. “Who wants to sign first?”