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Chapter 37 - Shifting Odds
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Zhujiao crouched on the edge of the now-familiar roof, absently chewing on the last of his dried fish.
He had been here for two days now, keeping an eye on the warehouse and learning the patterns of the Red Talon guards. If he was being totally honest, Zhujiao didn’t really know what he was looking for – he was hardly a master thief, after all.
Unfortunately for him, the Red Talons had a lot more experience in that regard. To his untrained eye, the guards looked alert and rotated around the building semi-regularly in teams of two.
There was no convenient skylight he could squeeze through, no unlocked doors, no obvious weak spots at all. His gaming experience in the Before assured him he could distract the guards by tossing something in their direction or whistling from cover, but… somehow, he didn’t think that would work out so well in real life.
He sighed, wiping the crumbs of dried fish from his hands as his gaze flicked between the shifting guards. The midday sun beat down on him, casting hard shadows from the rooftops and making the dusty streets below shimmer in the heat. His mind wandered as the minutes stretched on, the monotonous patrols below blending into the hum of the city.
At least he hadn’t been wasting all his time. After his last brush with the Red Talons and the mysterious cultivators, Zhujiao had spent much of his waiting in silent cultivation, pulling in as much Qi as he could from the ambient energy in the air.
The slums weren’t exactly rich in it—if anything, the energy here felt tainted, slow and sluggish—but it was enough to top off his reserves. It was an interesting view into how the environment could affect his cultivation. He’d read about how some areas were better for cultivation than others, but never experienced it himself.
By now, his dantian had filled almost to capacity once again, the single drop of liquid Qi at its centre gleaming faintly beneath the surface. He was only a few hours of cultivation away from being able to push through into the next Stage, but he’d held off from trying.
Part of him was tempted, itching to push his limits and see if he could go further, but he knew better than to be reckless. Breaking through now would drain nearly all of his Qi reserves, and though his liquid Qi seemed to be more efficient than normal, it would still leave him vulnerable for a while.
And that was assuming he could even succeed without a hitch.
No, the real problem was he had no idea how noticeable a breakthrough might be. Would it send a ripple out to other cultivators nearby? Would the Red Talons have people who could sense it? The unknowns were too dangerous to gamble with.
Zhujiao leaned back against the warm roof tiles, thinking. His initial decision to rob the Red Talons had been, in hindsight, more than a little impulsive. He’d thought it would be easy enough—sneak in, take what he needed, and disappear before anyone even knew he was there. Now, after two days of watching, it was clear he had grossly underestimated the difficulty of that plan.
But what else could he do?
He needed money, supplies, and a way out of the city. That much was obvious. The plague had driven more people into the city every day, filling the streets with desperation and panic. Leaving now, without proper funds, was a death sentence. And that wasn’t even counting the fact that many of the outer towns had already been quarantined. Travel was dangerous enough on a normal day, but now, with disease creeping closer and patrols tighter at every gate, it felt impossible.
And then there was the harsh reality of his remaining funds. Six silver Marks. Enough to stretch out for ten days or so if he was frugal. After that, what? He could survive on scraps and odd jobs for a while, but it wouldn’t get him anywhere. The slums were sinking, and so was he. There was no future here. No path forward, not without more money than he had any hope of earning by honest means.
Pick-pocketing? Maybe. He had enough Qi to be faster than most people, but that would still carry risks. And the thought of stealing from those even worse off than him didn’t sit well. No, he needed a real opportunity—something big, something that could actually change his situation.
His stomach rumbled insistently as if to remind him just how limited his options were.
‘Just one more night’, he told himself, glancing again at the warehouse. ‘One more night, and if I don’t see an opportunity, I’ll look elsewhere.’
As if on cue, a flicker of movement caught his eye. From the narrow street leading to the warehouse, a group of figures appeared. His senses sharpened, all weariness forgotten as he focused on the new arrivals.
Red Talons.
There were at least a dozen of them, moving in a tight formation, and from the way they walked, they weren’t just the usual grunts. Zhujiao’s heart picked up pace. This was the most enforcers he had ever seen in one place, even more than had been chasing him when they thought he’d stolen the pill.
Well, they probably still thought that, but whatever.
Even more interesting was the man at the centre of the group. Tall and broad-shouldered, the man walked with an air of authority that the others lacked. Zhujiao wasn’t exactly up-to-date on the inner workings of the Red Talons, but this guy had to at least be a lieutenant or something.
Way above his pay grade, whatever he was. Zhujiao turned to leave, but something made him hesitate.
The men weren’t carrying anything.
Which meant they were here to pick something up.
Judging by the presence of management, not to mention how much manpower they’d dedicated to this, it was something big, either in the physical sense or the monetary sense. And if it was something physically large, they would have brought a wagon or cart.
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Zhujiao hesitated, his gaze locked on the warehouse. His instincts were screaming at him to leave—this wasn’t his business, and getting involved with the Red Talons was the kind of decision that got people killed. But there was that small, insistent whisper at the back of his mind. What if this was the opportunity he’d been waiting for?
He had nothing. No real plan, no way out. If he walked away now, all he’d have was those six silver Marks and a few more days of starving in the streets. But if this was something valuable… if he could find a way to slip in unnoticed or steal a portion of whatever they were picking up…
His gut churned, a sinking feeling creeping in. He already knew what was going to happen. The temptation was too great. The same sort of temptation that had seen him running out into the forest alone, hunting for a Beast Core.
At least this time, the only person caught in the backlash would be himself.
***
Zhujiao’s tension mounted quickly.
The men had been inside the warehouse for less than an hour, but he was intimately aware of every second of it. He’d seen nothing unusual while they were inside, and that gnawing doubt crept back into his mind. Had he been wrong to wait this long? Was this really worth the risk?
But then, the doors opened, and there they were.
Zhujiao found himself in a half crouch without consciously moving, hands half curled in readiness at his sides as he raked his gaze over the men. The only difference from when they had entered the building was being carried by the lieutenant in the centre – a large black case, its surface gleaming faintly in the harsh afternoon light. It wasn’t ornate, just a simple, sturdy case, but it had an unmistakable air of importance.
The sight was vindicating.
You don’t send a dozen men to protect something that small unless it was very valuable. And as far as Zhujiao was concerned, the size would simply make it easier to run with.
‘What’s inside?’ he wondered, straining to make out any clues from his perch. Should he try and grab the case as a whole, or see if he could knock it open and grab whatever was inside? He didn’t know precisely when he had decided that he was going to make a grab for it, but right now it felt like the only option available to him.
A distant part of his mind warned him about the lingering effect the physical path had left on his psyche. He ignored it, focusing on the case. Whatever it was, it was the only thing they were carrying. And they looked nervous.
It took him a moment to realise that the tension in the air wasn’t just theirs. His own emotions had been riding a dangerous line, his impatience mounting steadily. As his heartbeat echoed in his ears, something clicked into place.
He was projecting.
His Qi was flaring outward, brushing against the environment in ways he hadn’t fully noticed before. It wasn’t just raw energy—his intent was spilling out, his focus drawing a ripple through the air. Just like Lao Yi had done to him.
A sharp pang of realisation surged through him. This was why they were on edge. His own feelings, sharpened by his cultivation and the latent energy swirling in the atmosphere, were creating a pressure that mirrored the exact kind of danger they feared.
He sucked in a breath, reining himself in. The Qi around him retracted like a drawn-in breath, pulling back from the world and folding back into his core. The effect was immediate. The Red Talons hesitated, exchanging glances, clearly uneasy but less frantic than they had been a second ago. They didn’t know what had shifted, only that the suffocating sense of being watched had lessened.
Zhujiao swallowed hard, wiping the sweat from his palms. That had been too close. He was still figuring out this new awareness, this depth of control over his Qi that compressing it into a liquid gave him. It was potent, no doubt, but it could also get him killed if he wasn’t careful.
He crept backward from the edge of the roof, moving with deliberate care to avoid attracting attention. His heart still raced, and the sweat from his near slip-up hadn’t quite dried on his palms. He kept his movements slow, his focus sharp as he scanned the rooftops and streets for any signs of danger. The Red Talons might not have noticed the Qi disturbance he had caused earlier, but that didn’t mean he was safe. He couldn’t afford another mistake.
Once he was far enough from the warehouse, he took a deep breath, calming his nerves. He couldn’t afford to let impatience cloud his judgment again. He glanced over to the street the Red Talons had arrived from, noting the flow of the crowd, before choosing his next move.
There was a risk here – if they left a different route, he might not be able to catch up with them. It was a risk he would have to take. Even though moving across the rooftops was more discrete than pushing through the crowds, if one of the enforcers looked up and saw him the jig would be up, the element of surprise lost.
He spotted a rooftop a little further down the street, one that overlooked a busier intersection. Hopefully, even if he guessed wrong, he would still be able to see them from there. Additionally, the crowd below was thick enough to provide cover if he needed to make a fast getaway.
He reached the rooftop he had picked out and crouched, his eyes locked on the group of Red Talons still clustered around the warehouse, the black case gleaming in the lieutenant’s grip. Apparently, he had spooked them more than he thought.
Their hesitation cost them.
Zhujiao twitched as two figures dressed in robes casually walked out of an alley and into view of the enforcers. A whisper of Qi reached his mind—restless, flickering like wind on the verge of a storm.
Amber-flame, sharp-glass-wind. It seemed his earlier encounter had come full circle. And once again, experimenting with his Qi had brought attention. Fortunately for him, the two cultivators didn’t seem to be able to sense him from here.
Zhujiao pulled with his mental grasp, keeping his Qi trapped tight in his dantian. He had no idea if it would help, but it was better than doing nothing.
It was only seeing them now that he realised they had been trying to lie low when they had confronted him last – wearing normal, albeit high-quality, clothing. Now, however, they were making no effort to hide their status, clad in pale green robes that seemed to shimmer in the light. Outnumbered six-to-one, they walked towards the gang members without a single concern.
Wolves among sheep.
Even as frustration curdled in his gut, Zhujiao found his lips twitching in amusement. The presence of the cultivators may have well and truly sunk any chance of getting his hands on that case, but it was satisfying to see someone else have to deal with the stress of calling down more attention than they were ready for.
It was clear the Red Talons were not enjoying the experience; their formation tightened, instinctively drawing closer to the lieutenant. They looked almost like children trying to hide behind the legs of a parent.
The lead cultivator spoke, his voice too low for Zhujiao to hear from this distance, but his body language was unmistakable, as was the flicker of Qi that radiated off him like the faintest hum of power. The Red Talons may not know exactly what it was they were feeling, but they definitely felt something.
The lieutenant responded, his posture stiff but respectful—though the glances he exchanged with his men showed his unease.
Movement at the edge of his vision caught his attention.
Three Red Talon enforcers were slipping away from the back of the group, their steps hurried but deliberate. At first, Zhujiao assumed they were fleeing, cowardice overtaking them in the face of overwhelming power. But then he saw it—one of them was carrying the case.
His heart leapt in his chest.
Suddenly, it seemed that the odds had shifted back in his favour. The cultivator saw the men leaving but didn’t seem to care – which, if nothing else, proved that they were most likely here looking for Zhujiao. Not ideal, but right now he was looking at the silver lining.
His eyes tracked the three men as they skirted the edge of the crowd, moving toward a side alley, their heads low and bodies hunched in an attempt to appear unimportant. The case was clutched tightly in the hands of the one in the middle as if he feared it might be wrenched from his grasp at any moment.
He slid backward from the rooftop, his heart hammering in his chest. The cultivators below were still engaged with the lieutenant, neatly distracting the man. With a careful, practised movement, Zhujiao dropped silently to the next lower roof, keeping his eyes locked on the trio slipping away.
This was his moment.