The steam from the hot stream swirled between the rocks, creating a shifting, milky fog that obscured the uneven ground.
Yoriichi stood motionless in the center of the clearing. He was completely boxed in. To his left roared the scalding waters of the thermal stream; to his right rose a sheer, moss-slicked granite cliff. Directly in front of him, blocking the only path back to the safety of the Xiao Clan estate, stood the seven conspirators arranged in a tight, predatory semicircle.
There was no pass to go. No gap in the line.
To a normal sixteen-year-old, this was a checkmate. A panic-inducing trap.
But Yoriichi stood calmly, his bandaged hands hanging loosely at his sides, his breathing rhythmic and deep. His red eyes swept over the arc of enemies, not looking for an escape route, but dissecting them layer by layer.
"Seven targets," Yoriichi analyzed, his mind working with the cold precision of a machine. "Formation: Loose semicircle. Distance to nearest hostile: 2.5 meters. Exit path: Obstructed."
While the leader, Jia Lie Ao, stepped forward with a smirk, Yoriichi's Selfless State was already mapping the invisible data of the battlefield.
"Target 1 (Center): Jia Lie Ao. 1-Star Dou Zhe. Muscle density suggests favoring right-handed strikes. Breathing is shallow—arrogance masked as confidence."
"Targets 2-7 (Periphery): Four Ao Ba clan members (8-Star), two Jia Lie clan members (9-Star). Stances are sloppy. Weight distribution is uneven. Threat level: Negligible."
He raised one bandaged hand, palm open, signaling towards the forest path they were blocking.
"I do not want any revenge," Yoriichi said, his voice calm and carrying easily over the bubbling water. "Nor do I wish to participate in your schemes. Please, step aside and go. Let's not make this complicated."
He paused, letting his gaze drift over their clan insignias.
"Furthermore," he added, his tone dropping a fraction. "This area falls under the jurisdiction of the Xiao Clan. You are trespassing. If the patrol guards find you here, it will be a diplomatic incident."
It was a reasonable, logical exit ramp. He was giving them a chance to leave with their limbs intact.
But logic rarely works on teenage egos fueled by clan rivalry and the thrill of bullying.
Jia Lie Ao's face twisted. He had expected the "trapped rat" to squeal. He had expected begging. But this... this utter indifference? This stoic dismissal as if they were the ones in danger?
It was an insult sharper than any curse.
"You..." Jia Lie Ao stepped closer, breaking the symmetry of the semicircle, his fists clenching until the leather of his gloves creaked. "You think you can lecture me? A cripple who got famous for sleeping on the arena floor?"
He stared into Yoriichi's eyes, searching for fear.
He found none.
Instead, he saw a pair of deep, crimson pools that reflected nothing but a hollow, terrifying stillness. It was the gaze of a statue, or perhaps a corpse.
A sudden, involuntary shiver raced down Jia Lie Ao's spine. The hair on his arms stood up. It was a primal premonition—a warning from his lizard brain screaming, 'Run.'
But his ego, bloated by his status as a Dou Zhe, crushed that instinct instantly.
"Screw your jurisdiction!" Jia Lie Ao screamed, his voice cracking with rage. "You think we can't do anything without you? Wait... now I will show you your place!"
He signaled to the green-robed Ao Ba clan members with a sharp jerk of his chin.
"Get him! Hold him down! Don't kill him—just break a few fingers so he remembers who runs this city!"
The command was clear: torture, not murder. Killing a Main Clan heir would bring war. Beating him up was just 'sparring'.
"Heh, leave it to us, Brother Jia," the largest of the Ao Ba boys sneered. He was an 8-Star Dou Disciple, standing on the far right of the semicircle. He was burly and slow, relying on brute strength.
He cracked his knuckles and lunged forward, breaking formation.
"Come here, little master!"
He reached out with massive, calloused hands, intending to grab Yoriichi by the collar and slam him into the mud.
Yoriichi sighed internally.
"Why doing all this?" he thought, a flicker of genuine sadness crossing his mind. "If you guys had just gone, all would have been normal."
But the hand was inches from his face. The intent to harm was absolute. The semicircle was closing in like a tightening noose.
"If I only stand and do nothing, anyone will come and bother me. Peace without strength is just a dream."
Yoriichi's eyes changed. The hollow calm sharpened into resolute steel.
Whoosh.
The Ao Ba boy's hands closed around... empty air.
"Huh?" The bully blinked, his momentum carrying him forward into the empty space. "Where—?"
He never finished the sentence.
Yoriichi had not teleported. He had simply moved faster than the boy's kinetic vision could track. He had slipped inside the boy's guard, pivoting on his left foot.
Yoriichi was now behind him.
He raised his leg and delivered a precise, chopping kick to the back of the boy's shoulder blade.
Thwack.
"GAAH!"
The boy slammed face-first into the gravel, the wind knocked out of him instantly.
The semicircle broke. The other six boys stared at their fallen comrade, then at Yoriichi, who was standing over the body as if he hadn't exerted himself.
"Get him!" Jia Lie Ao roared, shaking off his shock. "Together! All of you!"
The remaining five lackeys—two green robes, three black robes—roared in unison. They charged from all sides, trying to overwhelm him with numbers.
It was a chaotic, uncoordinated group attack. Fists coated in faint Dou Qi, kicks aimed at the groin and stomach. It was a brawl.
To a normal fighter, being surrounded is a death sentence.
To Yoriichi Tsugikuni, who had danced with death for eighty years, it was slow motion.
"Transparent World."
The world desaturated. The boys became transparent diagrams of muscle, bone, and flowing Qi. Yoriichi saw their attacks before they even launched them. He saw the shift in weight, the contraction of the calf muscle, the rotation of the hip.
He vanished again.
He dipped low, avoiding a high kick from a black-robed boy.
Flash.
He surged upwards, driving his knee into the solar plexus of the attacker.
OOF.
The boy folded like a piece of paper, eyes bulging, and collapsed silently.
Yoriichi didn't stop. He used the falling boy's shoulder as a pivot point and spun.
An elbow strike, tight and controlled.
Crack.
It connected with the jaw of an approaching Ao Ba disciple. The boy spun in the air, spitting blood, and hit the ground unconscious.
Two left. They hesitated, terror dawning in their eyes.
Yoriichi didn't give them time to rethink their life choices. He closed the distance in a single stride—using the malicious movement he had practiced earlier, his body leaning forward as if falling, then snapping into a strike.
BAM. BAM.
Two swift kicks to the chest. Controlled force. Enough to break a rib, not enough to stop the heart.
The two boys flew backward, splashing into the shallow edge of the hot stream, screaming as the hot water soaked their clothes.
It had taken less than sixty seconds.
Yoriichi stood in the center of the clearing. He adjusted his sleeves. His breathing hadn't even changed rhythm.
Around him, six boys lay groaning in the mud, clutching their stomachs, knees, and jaws.
Only one remained standing.
Jia Lie Ao.
The 1-Star Dou Zhe stood frozen, his mouth slightly agape. His face had drained of all color, leaving him looking like a wax figure. The arrogance was gone, replaced by pure, unadulterated horror.
"How..." Jia Lie Ao whispered, his voice trembling.
He looked at Yoriichi. The "harmless" young master. The "trash."
The boy standing there wasn't harmless. He was a demon wearing human skin.
"You..." Jia Lie Ao swallowed hard, his survival instinct finally screaming loud enough to be heard. His confidence in his high rank was shattered.
He turned to run.
"I am a Dou Zhe!" he thought frantically. "I can outrun him! I just need to get to the main road!"
He channeled his Dou Qi into his legs. A faint yellow glow enveloped his feet—Earth Attribute Dou Qi. It boosted his defense and stability.
He sprinted towards the forest.
Whoosh.
A shadow appeared in front of him.
Jia Lie Ao skidded to a halt, his eyes widening. Yoriichi was there. He had cut off the escape route without making a sound, moving like a ghost.
"I said," Yoriichi spoke, his voice low. "Don't make this complicated."
"STAY BACK!" Jia Lie Ao screamed, panic taking over.
He punched. It was a desperate, full-power strike. The yellow Dou Qi condensed around his fist, forming a jagged layer of rock-like armor.
"Die!"
The fist flew towards Yoriichi's face.
Yoriichi didn't dodge.
He watched the fist coming. He saw the structure of the Dou Qi flow. It was crude. Imperfect. There were gaps in the energy flow where the Dou Qi failed to overlap.
Yoriichi raised his bandaged leg.
He didn't kick the fist. He kicked the inside of Jia Lie Ao's ankle, right as the boy transferred his weight to punch.
Swipe.
Jia Lie Ao's balance vanished. His punch went wide, hitting empty air.
As he stumbled forward, Yoriichi pivoted and delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of Jia Lie Ao's head.
CRACK.
The Dou Qi flow instantly vanished around his hand. The yellow light dissolved instantly under the precise impact.
Jia Lie Ao's head snapped to the side. He crashed into the ground, rolling three times before coming to a stop at the base of the massive rock Yoriichi had been training on.
Silence returned to the Southern Pass.
The only sounds were the bubbling of the hot stream and the pained whimpers of the fallen bullies.
Yoriichi walked over to Jia Lie Ao.
The Dou Zhe was trying to push himself up, blood trickling from his nose. He looked up at Yoriichi with eyes full of terror.
"H-how?" Jia Lie Ao stuttered, coughing up a mixture of saliva and blood. "You... you are just in Dou Zhi Qi. You... you can't break Qi circulation..."
Yoriichi looked down at him. The morning sun broke through the trees, casting a long shadow over the defeated leader.
"Dou Qi is strong," Yoriichi admitted softly. "But the one wielding it... was full of holes."