The Reincarnation Of The Divine Physician

Chapter 008

The sea wind blew fiercely, carrying the salty stench of brine and a thick, pungent smell of diesel fuel. Metropolis Port at night was a giant iron labyrinth built from stacked, colorful shipping containers towering like spires.

Under flickering mercury lights, Pier 7 resembled a silent warzone. Yellow police tape stretched across Warehouse 14, but to Arkhan, the plastic ribbon was nothing more than decoration.

Arkhan moved through the shadows. His expensive black suit—purchased just hours ago—blended seamlessly into the dark of night. His footsteps made no sound, as if his body weight was manipulated by the energy surging through his meridians.

"Ten minutes to ten," Arkhan whispered, glancing at his watch.

"I must secure that Blood Dew Flower before the flames of destruction touch it."

He stood atop a stack of wooden pallets, scanning the scene. Yet the night's stillness shattered violently.

RATATATATATA!

A burst of automatic gunfire tore through the quiet. Muzzle flashes sparked against the steel container walls. Arkhan ducked immediately, his sharpening senses catching panicked shouts and tactical commands.

On the far side of the warehouse, a small Police Intelligence unit was trapped in a lethal choke point. Originally tasked with escorting the transfer of evidence, they had walked straight into an ambush set by the "Black Fang" syndicate.

"Captain! We're surrounded! They're using heavy caliber rounds!" a officer shouted, returning fire with his semi-automatic pistol.

Arumi, a woman with sharp eagle-like eyes and black hair tied in a ponytail, pressed against a container wall riddled with bullet holes. Her tactical uniform was caked in dust and oil.

As an Intelligence Unit Captain, she was known never to back down, but tonight was different. Their enemies were no ordinary thugs; they were professional mercenaries hired by the syndicate.

"Hold your positions! Don't let them reach Warehouse 14!" Arumi ordered firmly, despite her labored breath.

A grenade launcher (GL) round struck the left side of the container where Arumi took cover.

BOOM!

Arumi was hurled several meters, hitting the hard concrete with a heartbreaking thud. Before she could push herself up, two bullets zipped through the darkness.

THWACK! THWACK!

One bullet lodged into her left shoulder, while another tore through her side. Arumi groaned in agony as intense heat spread through her nerves. Fresh blood leaked out, soaking her body armor, which was helpless against point-blank fire.

"Captain!" her men screamed, but heavy fire pinned them down from the opposite flank.

A hulking executioner from the Black Fang syndicate stepped out from the shadows. Wearing a skull mask and holding an AK-47 assault rifle with a smoking barrel, he approached Arumi with slow, triumphant steps. She lay helpless on the ground, reaching weakly for her sidearm thrown yards away.

"Good evening, Captain Arumi," the executioner rasped behind his mask. He raised his rifle, aiming the cold barrel directly at her forehead.

"Such a shame that pretty face has to be ruined tonight."

Arumi glared up the barrel, defying him even as her consciousness flickered. She gritted her teeth, refusing to beg for her life.

Just as the executioner's finger tightened on the trigger, a calm, authoritative voice echoed from atop the containers behind them.

"Firearms are noisy toys. And those who use them to oppress the weak... are merely trash that needs cleaning."

The executioner froze and instinctively looked up. There stood a man in a black suit billowing in the sea wind. Shadows obscured his face, save for his eyes, which glinted with a faint red hue under the dock lights.

"Who the hell are you?!" the executioner barked, snapping his rifle toward Arkhan.

Arkhan didn't answer. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a few clear glass marbles—cheap trinkets picked up from his shop earlier that afternoon. He pinched a marble between his thumb and middle finger.

Snap!

Arkhan flicked his finger. The marble shot out faster than a bullet, encased in dense soul energy.

CRACK!

The marble slammed into the barrel of the executioner's AK-47. Impossibly, the rifle's steel frame shattered to pieces as if struck by a cannonball. The impact vibrated through the executioner's arms, fracturing his bones instantly.

"AAAAAAGH! MY HANDS!"

Before the executioner could fall, Arkhan dropped down, swooping like an eagle preying on its target. Mid-air, he flicked three more marbles simultaneously.

ZIP! ZIP! ZIP!

Three syndicate members lurking in the dark collapsed instantly. The marbles didn't kill; instead, they struck their Hui Yin and Zhu Sanli nerve points, leaving their bodies completely paralyzed in a flash.

Arkhan landed lightly on his feet between Arumi and her attackers. The remaining panicked syndicate members fired wildly at him.

"Die, you monster!"

Arkhan moved his body in an uncanny pattern, dancing through the hail of bullets. To the human eye, he left behind lingering afterimages. Whenever a round came close, he shifted an inch, letting the hot lead pass harmlessly by.

While dodging, his hands worked relentlessly. Every flick of his finger brought down another opponent. Within seconds, a dozen fierce Black Fang members lay sprawled across the dock floor, groaning without the strength to twitch a finger.

Silence descended over the docks, broken only by distant ship engines and Arumi's heavy, labored gasps.

Arkhan turned to face Arumi, who lay in a pool of her own blood. She stared at the stranger with what little strength remained, her eyes wide at how an unarmed man had dismantled a tactical syndicate unit in under a minute.

"Who... are you..." Arumi whispered before her eyes fluttered shut.

Arkhan knelt beside her, catching a strange, sweet scent wafting from her wounds.

"These bullets carry a high-grade neurotoxin. Three more minutes, and your heart will stop."

Arkhan glanced toward the broken door of Warehouse 14. Inside, disposal officers were lighting the incinerator. Smoke billowed from the warehouse chimney.

A dilemma confronted him. If he chased after the Blood Dew Flower now, the woman before him would die. If he saved her, the Blood Dew Flower—the key to restoring his meridians—would turn to ash forever.

He looked at Arumi's pale face, then back at the flames rising behind the warehouse window. Suddenly, Arkhan's ears caught heavy, approaching footsteps from inside the warehouse—not the stride of a police officer, but someone bearing a dense, dark energy.

"So a little rat dared to mess with my shipment," a heavy voice echoed from the smoke.

A man clad in a black robe with a fang tattoo on his neck emerged from the haze, holding a burning wooden box in one hand and a dagger dripping with green fluid in the other. Inside the burning box, the dark red petals of the Blood Dew Flower writhed in the intense heat.

Arkhan rose slowly, his aura sharpening instantly. "Set that box down, or you will learn what it feels like to die before you even have the chance to scream."