I Wish You Were Never Reborn

The following morning, Tyvan was browsing the latest copy of the Arkham Enquirer, when the phone rang.

And... since his lovely secretary had just stepped out, he picked it up, himself.

“I heard that ❴Hidden Village❵ is astir,” said a mischievous voice, “from your antics, presuming.”

It belonged to a certain young woman he often had the displeasure of working with.

“Merlin,” he said. “Good morning. I hope you’re calling on the topic of that order for more Memory Erasure Pills.”

“Oh, I’ve been talking to some people about that,” Merlin teased, “No promises for now-- that’s not my specialty. But if you just. can’t. wait, Mister Valorum... maybe you should ask the other Merlin?”

She was joking-- or so Tyvan hoped.

He did prefer dealing with the other Merlin on account of their professional mien and general reliability. However, their abilities were related to weather prediction rather than procuring both information and magical paraphernalia.

“You’re calling about ❴Hidden Village❵, then. Have they decided to act?”

“Within the week, or so I hear~”

Tyvan nodded. He expected as much. The Arrow Group couldn’t remain silent between the machinations of ❴The Kingdom❵ and the vampire hunt organised by Scarlet.

And their only identifiable enemy was the Sun Group.

His actions pushed the enemy toward desperate measures... and in their response, there would be a vulnerability he could exploit. However, in challenging the status quo, he was also driving danger toward Yan Xue. Despite the numerous steps he had taken to ensure her safety otherwise, he was not absolved of that fact.

Tyvan groaned in annoyance...

Even after utilising Scarlet’s help, he had yet to find the specific malefactor targeting Yan Xue's associates. That particular creature needed to be eliminated...

--forthwith and with great prejudice.

--for his own peace of mind.

It was merely a coincidence that it would also keep her safe.

“Merlin,” he said... “I need a name.”

“Lord Protector,” Merlin sang, “I wouldn’t be the Keeper of Secrets if I wagged my tongue so freely, now would I?”

Tyvan invoked the names of the deceased, “James Price and Esha Ansari.”

“The boy and the teacher. What about ‘em? Last I heard, a suspect’s already been apprehended.”

Tyvan narrowed his eyes. Was he being mocked?

One of the northern cells apprehended something they purported to be ‘Mosquito Man,’ real name Emmanuel Moschino. But that gentleman’s capture did nothing to prevent the serial murders.

“That person was released,” he said. “And Bastion was tasked to write an apology letter-- in modern vernacular.”

“On that note,” Merlin added, “I’ve also heard that the cruelty of your dungeons are somewhat different than the norm.”

Tyvan held his phone at arm’s length, glaring at it suspiciously.

That frustrating woman seemed to know everything.

“Mister Moschino thanked me personally for room and board. He... was utterly convinced he was being recorded for a television show.”

“Well, you do dress like a bigshot producer-guy every day.”

...Such comments were why Tyvan found the second Merlin so unsavoury. It was concerning that she knew his attire despite him never meeting her in person. Yeonha was convinced she was merely a spirit haunting a phone line-- if such a thing was possible.

That arrogance, though, was as tolerable for him as it was appropriate for her. The information she was paid to provide was invaluable for ❴The Kingdom❵’s plans.

“The teacher, Merlin. Can you divine her murderer’s identity?”

Merlin clicked her tongue in a petulant, scolding manner.

“I am not so convenient an ⟦Oracle⟧, Mister Valorum. You know my rates. I can consult my crystal ball or my deck of fortunes. I could offer half-truths or compose a hymn or the most tantalizing riddle. And for the low, low price of--”

“You already know,” Tyvan interrupted.

At least the Merlin he was speaking to was predictable, (which was opposite the other.) The more interesting the secret, the less able she was to keep it to herself.

“Oh, Lord Protector,” she said, drawing out her words... “am I really that easy to read?”

“No,” Tyvan replied flatly.

Merlin chuckled in a low tone, a ‘huhuhu’ that served as much to incite his vexation as well as it did to convey her enjoyment of the notion.

“I suppose I can deign to provide you a name you may find interesting. But before I tell you... remember that this is all just idle gossip.”

Yan Xue got down to business...

--to defeat the Zhangs~

Grandpa Wei’s granddaughter~

--training hard to kick some bunnnns~

Bleigh.

Training was hard, but Shay found motivation in how fast she was improving, from her physical and mental endurance to her ability to do cool martial arts stunts.

She learned how to do a handstand flip! (--but only if she had a running start.)

It seemed a little bit of her study-hard mentality crossed over to martial arts. She had memorized all the forms Grandpa Wei taught. It felt awesome going over the movements along with her senior martial brothers and uncles. But she needed a lot more hours to ingrain all that into her muscle memory.

And for the actual physical training...

--the medicinal baths in the evenings helped.

(When she found out how much each bath cost, she cried a little bit. Two baths could buy a whole car. But, apparently, it was something that was provided to all the Eternal Sun sect’s inner disciples during their first month of training.)

Shay wasn’t talented. She’d never been talented. But she knew how to devote her heart and soul to study and practice.

She’d been training for seven days and nights (that she could remember,) and she was practically a different person. She could run over a mile without stopping. She was pretty sure she could jump high enough to reach a basketball net... but she was still nowhere close to doing what Tyvan could do.

His legs were longer than hers, though! Genetics are overpowered!

Oh, and she could do three pull-ups, unassisted!

She felt unstoppable.

But the coolest part was gaining a new superpower.

Shay found out that... as long as she put her mind to something, she could actually sleep at night.

Of course, there was a lot of introspection and self-rationalization and she couldn’t avoid all the cringe things she’d said in recent past. But... she was able to mentally distance herself from a few of the more negative things that happened recently.

At the end of the day, when she was physically and mentally exhausted... it felt like there was a little voice in her heart that told her, ‘It’s okay. You’re doing your best.’

--or maybe that was a forgotten memory of one of the days she missed?

Grandpa said a ‘friend’ came to visit her. They even wrote her a letter!

She... couldn’t read it. But it seemed very nice! It was very neatly written and there were little hearts in the margins, so it probably wasn’t like... scathing criticism. It felt more like an emotional support letter.

--and the letters faded from the paper after a few days. Magic writing, maybe. The more weird things that happened in her life, the more she was willing to just accept them as they were.

Maybe that was part of her new superpower?

The latest piece of news, she accepted in stride, just as well.

The Arrow Group-- or, rather... the Bounded Arrow sect had sent a letter of challenge to the Eternal Sun sect.

It was something out of a classic wuxia light novel. The bad guys were requesting a formal duel and the winner could make the loser do anything they wanted. That’s how Grandpa Wei explained it.

Realistically, though, honorable etiquette still applied. Whoever won could make a difficult request, but it couldn’t be so bad that it would ruin the losing family. Otherwise, the other sects would get mad.

But since she had been talking to her grandfather every day, she knew the Sun Group wasn’t doing so well financially. Over a dozen of their top martial practitioners had disappeared over the past two months-- enough that Grandpa Wei had no choice but to pick her up and train her as his direct disciple.

Losing the tournament (or refusing the challenge) would put the Song family in an even worse position. Shay didn’t know what exactly that would entail, but it was safe to say they were desperate for a win.

So getting her position and the training that came with it was good for her... but, overall, it wasn’t so great for the Songs.

The eighth day was an exercise recovery day-- which meant there was a lot of sitting around doing nothing.

Shay asked Grandpa Wei to help her sense her chi, but she just got her head smacked and was told to meditate.

She wasn’t offended or anything, though. Grandpa was probably trying to say she needed more regular training. Or since he (and everyone) was hyper-focused on the martial tournament, it wasn’t a great time to teach her anything too advanced.

(But how hard was it to teach a breathing exercise? She had kinda figured out one on her own. The sect probably had a better one!)

As the sun started its slow descent down to the horizon, guests began to arrive at the estate.

There were a lot of old folks gathered in the courtyard. Shay saw a lot of suits, both Chinese and modern. But there were a lot of people wearing old, Chinese robes and some even came in martial artist attire. The genre was weird-- a mix between a Chinese period piece and a gangster film.

She eavesdropped on the Mandarin that was going on.

There were a lot of mentions of shīxiōng and shīdì-- senior and junior martial brothers. Everyone was promising each other drinks or asking about their martial development.

The whisperings about the Zhang camp had the general vibe that they’d probably ask the Song family to... stand down? --but that didn’t make any sense.

Grandpa Wei and all the other sect disciples had been training extra hard. And, more than once, he’d complained about money. So with everyone busy and without what she assumed was metal briefcases stuffed with cash to hire people to mess with the Zhangs, what exactly were they supposed to stop doing?

Shay knew that their families had been rivals since Ancient China... but why did they all seem so desperate?