The Immortal King Reborn

CHAPTER 8

The sound of footsteps grew louder, echoing off the brick walls on both sides. Lin Hao stood with his back to the dead end, the serpent figurine heavy in his pocket. Mr. Hale stepped slightly in front of him, his posture tense but calm, like someone who had faced this kind of thing before.

Two men appeared at the mouth of the alley. They were dressed in plain dark clothes, no logos, no badges. They moved with the same quiet, practiced efficiency Lin Hao had seen in palace guards centuries ago.

"Mr. Hale," one of them said. His voice was flat, no surprise, no greeting. "Step away from the boy. We only need the items."

Hale did not move. "This is private property. You have no business here."

"We have business with anything that comes from the lost sites," the man said. "And we know he has them. The pendant, and whatever else he found today. Hand them over, and we won't have to make a scene."

Lin Hao felt the serpent figurine warm through the fabric of his pocket. He rested his hand over it, channeling the smallest thread of qi. The red glow he had seen earlier was not just a reaction. It was a signal. And maybe, just maybe, it was also a shield.

"He doesn't have to give you anything," Hale said. "And you know the rules. You can't just take what you want."

"The rules changed the moment the Core came up on the radar," the man said. He nodded to his partner, and they both started walking forward. Slow. Unhurried. Confident they had nowhere to go.

Lin Hao looked back at the tall brick wall behind them. Too high to climb quickly. No windows, no pipes, no easy way up. But it was not completely smooth. There were rough patches, old ledges where brick had crumbled or been replaced.

"Follow me," he said quietly to Hale.

Hale glanced at the wall, then at the men closing in. "We won't make it over before they reach us."

"Not over," Lin Hao said. "Up and across."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the figurine. He sent a sharper pulse of energy into it, not enough to activate whatever tracking link it had, but enough to wake its defensive function. The serpent’s eyes flared red, and a low hum filled the narrow space, vibrating in the air.

The two men stopped. They blinked, pressing a hand to their foreheads like a sudden sharp headache had hit them.

"What is that?" one of them said, his voice tight.

Lin Hao did not answer. He grabbed Hale’s arm and sprinted toward the wall. He planted one foot on a protruding brick, pushed hard, and caught the top edge with both hands. He hauled himself up, then reached back down to help Hale.

"Go," Hale said, shoving Lin Hao’s hand. "I know a way from the roof. Keep moving. Don't stop until you're clear."

Lin Hao looked down. The men were recovering, reaching into their jackets.

"Come with me," Lin Hao said.

"I can't," Hale said. "They know my face. They know my shop. If I go with you, they'll follow me straight to wherever you're going. Go. I'll lead them off. Meet me at the shop at midnight. Back entrance. Don't be seen."

A shout rang out from below. Lin Hao hesitated for one heartbeat, then nodded. He pulled himself over the edge of the wall and dropped down onto the roof of the next building.

He did not look back. He ran across the gravel, keeping low, moving from roof to roof until the alley and the voices were far behind. The figurine in his pocket had stopped glowing, but it still felt warm, like it was holding onto the charge longer than it should.

He kept to the quieter streets, taking winding routes, doubling back three times before heading toward the bus stop. He checked every car that passed, every pedestrian who walked too close. No one followed. No one seemed to know who he was. But the feeling of being watched did not go away. It just changed, from something outside to something inside.

He got off three stops early and walked the rest of the way to the apartment, circling the building twice before going in. He checked the entrance, the hallway, the stairwell. Nothing seemed out of place. No new cars parked nearby. No one loitering in the shadows.

He unlocked the door quietly and stepped inside. The apartment was quiet. His mother was in the kitchen, washing up after dinner. Xiao Man was in the living room, watching something on her tablet, the volume turned low.

"You're back," his mother said, turning off the tap and drying her hands. "I was getting worried. You said you'd be hours ago."

"Got held up," he said, keeping his voice light. "Ran into someone I knew. Ended up talking longer than I planned."

She studied his face for a moment, but she did not press. "Did you eat?"

"Not yet."

"There's soup on the stove," she said. "I'll heat it up."

He sat down across from Xiao Man. She smiled when she saw him, but her eyes looked tired.

"Did you find anything?" she asked quietly.

"Something," he said. "Not as much as I hoped, but enough. We're okay for now."

She nodded, but her gaze drifted to the window, as if she could sense the tension he was trying to hide. "It's getting darker earlier."

"It is," he said. "But we're safe here. The doors lock. The windows lock. And I'm here."

He stood up and went to the kitchen while she heated the soup. He kept his phone in his hand, checking the time. Midnight was still hours away. But every minute felt like it was dragging.

He ate slowly, forcing himself to chew, to sit still, to look like someone who did not have two different groups of people looking for him. He told his mother he was going to turn in early, but he went to the window instead, pulling the curtain back just enough to see the street below.

Nothing moved. No cars. No strangers. But he knew better than to trust quiet.

He pulled the serpent figurine out of his pocket and set it on the windowsill in the faint moonlight. He ran a finger over the carved scales, tracing the lines that had lit up red. The defensive pulse had worked, but it had also drawn attention. If the organization could sense when artifacts were activated, then every time he used one, he was lighting a beacon.

He picked it up and turned it over. There had to be another way to use it without giving himself away. Or maybe there was a way to use the connection against them. To lead them somewhere they would not expect.

He put it back in his pocket and sat down in the chair by the door, just like the night before. He would rest his eyes for a little while. Then he would leave, quiet as he could, and head toward Hale’s shop.

He did not know what he would find there. Hale might be waiting with answers. Or he might not be there at all. The men in the alley might have caught him before he could get away. The whole meeting might be a trap, set up to get him to walk right into another dead end.

But he had to go. Hale had risked himself to give Lin Hao a head start. And if nothing else, Lin Hao owed him the truth. He owed him the chance to tell him what he was really involved in, and to decide if he still wanted to be part of it.

Lin Hao leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, reaching inward to that small spark of qi. It was still there, still growing, slow but steady. He would need it. Whatever waited for him at midnight, he would need every bit of strength he could gather.