I Wish You Were Never Reborn

Tyvan approached the stone arena, waving amicably to the Song family warrior standing on the edge.

“Ni hao.”

The gentleman-- Master Pingping snapped his head toward him, exuding a scent of surprise.

“You... You’re with Xiaoxue, right? What is your relationship with my niece, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Tyvan smiled politely.

“I’m--”

Not intending to finish the statement, he grabbed Pingping’s collar, pulled him out of the arena, and stepped in, himself.

The Zhang family head (or so he assumed, based on the size and centrality of his seat,) yelled in his general direction. Angry drops of spittle spewed from his mouth.

Behind him, Song Wei yelled something back.

Tyvan recognized a word.

Wèihūnqī.

Shay had used it just before dragging him off to the Song staging area. It had a lovely sound to it. He made a mental note to ask her of its meaning.

The Zhang warrior, Edward Luo, sneered as he rounded his shoulders. His scent, however, exuded irritation.

“You think you can just walk in and put your hands on my woman without suffering the consequences?” he said, “You’re courting death, white boy.”

It was some flavor of threat. Tyvan didn’t quite understand the context-- but he was glad to understand the general meaning, nonetheless.

He stepped forward and rendered a light bow in the manner in which he was taught.

“お願い. Are there rules to this match?”

Edward pushed his chin forward. “No mercy.”

Tyvan nodded thoughtfully. That was an uncommon rule in the modern world, but it was unduly refreshing.

The musclebound warrior opened his arms, gesturing with his fingers to approach. “I see you brought a weapon. Go ahead. See if that does you any good.”

Tyvan smiled politely, “The match has begun in earnest, yes?”

Edward arrogantly kept his arms open, even daring to walk forward. “Gimme your best shot.”

Such a request wasn’t difficult to fulfil.

Tyvan reached into his coat, retrieving his ever-reliable Gorgon BT-2000, sport edition.

Safety off. Both hands secure around the pistol grip.

He opened his eyes and was pleased to see his opponent’s expression of shock.

Four shots in four seconds-- all to Edward’s chest.

He staggered back. The shots drew blood-- but not enough.

Tyvan shot the boy in the forehead. His head whipped back, but he staggered forward in a daze.

The boy was more resilient than most, but not completely invulnerable.

Edward loosed a high-pitched shriek as he barreled forward.

“I am the DRAGON of the Luo family!!”

Fast. Annoyingly fast.

Tyvan stepped to the side, activating his ⌈Time Lock⌋ spell.

That granted him a moment to evaluate the situation at his leisure.

The half-naked fellow had rushed past him. It was heartening to see that, despite his speed, Tyvan was still faster.

Ah, but something interesting--

The young man’s focus had yet to change. His enhanced abilities were artificial and gained only recently. So logically, he moved faster than he could think.

A shame.

Tyvan found comfort in the sweet scent of nitroglycerin in the air. He made a mental note to bring a higher caliber pistol to his next ❴Hidden Village❵ engagement. And he spent a few short moments reviewing his attire for scuffs and creases.

Professional, as always.

He dispelled his ⌈Time Lock⌋, immediately firing another several shots into the side of Edward’s leg.

Then, he shoved him ungently, sending them crashing onto the stones, on their side.

He kicked the boy onto his belly, then fired the rest of his magazine into the base of his spine. ❴Hidden Village❵ wasn’t the only Archangel faction with armour-type spells and abilities. Even if his bullets didn’t pierce, a modern pistol could still batter the flesh and break the bone underneath.

He reloaded.

He continued shooting. More shots to the spine. More shots to the back of the head.

A single bullet pierced through.

Tyvan dropped his knee onto the boy’s back, placing his pistol against the open wound.

Shots. More shots. Until he was out.

Finally... he stood up, reloading a third magazine into his pistol and racking the slide forward.

After giving 31 of his best shots, Tyvan had successfully eliminated the arrogant hatchling who dared to exist before him. He re-engaged his weapon’s safety, as was proper.

He was feeling rather proud of himself... but the arena had grown ominously quiet.

He turned to the crowd, observing faces with similar expressions.

--negative expressions.

Ah, but that was not the case for Mister Plum. The older gentleman was waving to him excitedly.

Tyvan returned a smile and a gentle wave back.

Shay sat in the booth, squirming uncomfortably.

Tyvan had just won their fourth match for the Songs... but in a way that no one, not even she, could predict.

Who uses a GUN in a martial arts tournament?!

Even in modern times, it was still Gong Fu, not Gun Fu.

Speechless and mortified, she looked up at her grandfather, in terror of what he would have to say.

“Does that Valorum-boy know an ocular art?” he asked, “His eyes glowed like the sun!”

Unexpectedly, Grandpa was thrilled.

--but that was fine! She was too!

“That’s nothing,” she said, “He can jump higher than a house!”

“Good, good!” Grandpa said, “I approve of your choice of boyfriend, Xiaoxue! But on that ocular art... could you ask him if he could teach that to our sect? And when are you two planning on getting married?”

--and Shay’s excitement was murdered in cold blood. She looked away, her face as flush as her skirt.

“He’s... he’s not my boyfriend-- not yet.”

Grandpa Wei looked confused. “(You called him your fiancée? You said it in front of Zhang Jinyan.)”

“No, I didn’t!” Shay said. Then her eyes widened as she realized, “Oh, shit, I did-- but I... I don’t know why I said that!”

Grandpa glanced to the side. “We’ll discuss this later, Xiaoxue.”

Tyvan had hopped out of the arena and was walking back. Shay double-checked her robes to make sure she looked fine. She also loosened her collar and fanned herself to cool down.

Someone had just died. Shay saw it happen. It was even someone she knew.

But... for some reason, it didn’t affect her. Or... it didn’t affect her as much as it should have. In the past few months, she’d seen or been close to so many violent deaths-- more than most people would in their lifetimes.

After coming to the Song Estate, she felt like something changed in the way she thought. Maybe it was because she surrounded herself with martial arts and martial artists every day? Maybe it had something to do with hanging out with Grandpa or her getting beaten up in a parking lot by a stuck-up goth girl?

It was weird... but ultimately, it was a good thing. Because her mind was so clear, she could focus on what was going on.

“Valorum!” Grandpa said, “My granddaughter says you can jump higher than a house!”

Tyvan raised his eyebrows (very slightly), “Indeed. Most houses are incapable of jumping.”

He gestured to Shay before continuing, “Master Song, since my business here has been concluded, I plan on taking your granddaughter out for dinner. You’re welcome to join, of course.”

“Listen to this brat!” Grandpa Wei laughed, “The younger generation certainly knows how to act without fear!”

Tyvan almost imperceptibly narrowed his eyes before turning to her, “Have you eaten already?”

“Nope! Can we go to Dragon Burger?”

“I’d much prefer something a bit higher quality than... that place.”

“Xiaoxue’s not going anywhere.”

Grandpa reached behind her, assumedly to put his hand on her shoulder. But Tyvan reached over, grabbing onto his wrist.

“Uh... Valorum?” Grandpa said.

Tyvan looked to him, then to his gloved hand... and he let him go. “My apologies.”

“I have no problem with you getting to know my granddaughter better,” Grandpa said, “but at least sit and wait until the fate of our family gets decided.”

“Hmm,” Tyvan hummed, nodding as if he understood. But did he? Did he really?

He... took his golden snake pin off his lapel. Then he... pinned it to Shay’s robes. Shay’s mind blanked when he slipped his hand underneath her outer layer, and the place he touched felt burning hot.

“Stop flirting in front of this old man!” Grandpa yelled.

He tried to smack Tyvan with his open palm, but he moved his head and body out of the way, barely avoiding it. How did he keep doing that? And to even a real martial artist like Grandpa?

“Shay, finish this quickly,” Tyvan said.

“Eh?” Shay tilted her head. She pointed at herself, “Me?”

“Are you... not planning on fighting?” Tyvan asked.

“No? No!” She shook her head. “I’m not ready to fight in a life-or-death battle! I-- I only know a little bit of Tae Kwon Do!”

“...Aren’t you Chinese?”

Grandpa tried to smack Tyvan a second time, but he twisted his head to the side, dodging again just as easily.

“Of course she’s Chinese!” Grandpa said, “I taught her Gong Fu, myself!”

“I’ve only been training for like-- a week!” Shay argued.

“You learn quickly. Under my training, your first week’s more like an entire month!”