Chapter 105: The Mustache, the Stubborn Plaster

Following the direction of Prince Hao’s finger, I looked toward the southwest corner of the rooftop. There appeared to be a dark mist obscuring that area. If not for Prince Hao’s extraordinary eyesight, it would have been difficult to notice anything amiss, especially after nightfall.

Prince Hao cautiously tried to move forward to investigate, but I reached out and grabbed his clothing. He turned to me in confusion, and I shook my head slightly, signaling him to wait where he was while I went ahead alone. Understanding my intention, Prince Hao nodded in agreement and whispered a caution to be careful.

Step by step, I approached the dark mist. Finding a spot close enough, I stopped to carefully observe what lay within the shadowy veil. Just then, a hand suddenly rested on my shoulder. Instinctively, I turned my head and found it was Prince Hao.

About to ask him how he came here, I was caught off guard as he suddenly struck my left eye socket with a punch. “Ah!” The blow was solid, and I staggered back against the wall, stars exploding behind my eyes. Before I could recover, he delivered another punch, forcing me to duck quickly.

*Crack!* His fist, thrown with full force, collided with the mud-streaked wall instead. The impact was so strong that the skin on his knuckles broke, and blood mixed with dirt dripped to the ground. "Brother Hao!" I exclaimed.

Prince Hao seemed intent on finishing me off. Missing his strike, he followed up with a kick aimed at my chin. I blocked it with both palms and immediately stepped aside to evade further attacks. Suddenly, a sinister, cackling laugh echoed from the dark mist behind me.

I glanced over, but Prince Hao was faster, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks at me. Each strike was ruthless, as if I were his mortal enemy. Clearly, he had been bewitched by the figure lurking behind the black fog.

Again, Prince Hao threw a punch, but this time I didn't dodge. Instead, I caught his fist with one hand while forming a sword finger with the other. “Protect the spiritual altar, let the soul remain clear; evil spirits cannot invade the body, by the sacred decree!” I bit down on my sword finger and pressed hard against the center of his forehead.

The moment my finger touched his brow, Prince Hao’s body began trembling uncontrollably. I used the momentum to push him against the wall. His eyes widened, and he looked toward the sky as a wisp of dark energy scattered from his gaze. His entire body went limp, and he gasped for breath.

“I... what happened to me?” he asked in disbelief. Since he could speak, he was clearly unharmed.

I pointed to my swollen left eye socket and said, “You owe me medical expenses.”

Prince Hao took a deep breath, looking apologetic. I smiled wryly, stretched, and picked up a moss-covered red brick from the ground. After weighing it in my hand, I hurled it directly at the dark mist without hesitation.

Something miraculous happened. The brick stopped midair the moment it touched the fog. Then, with a crack, it split into two and fell to the ground.

“Heh heh... I didn’t expect you to be one of us,” a voice from the mist sneered, growing ever more repulsive to me.

“What are you thinking? We’re not on the same side,” I retorted.

I pulled out a broken talisman, picked up another brick, and stuck the talisman onto it. “By the sacred decree...” I muttered.

“Take this!” I struck with speed and precision. As the brick hovered, the talisman ignited into a glowing flame, enveloping the entire brick. This time, the brick met no resistance and smashed through the black mist with a sharp cry.

The fog dissipated, revealing an old man with a distinctive mustache shaped like the character for “eight” on his upper lip, and a worn dogskin plaster over his left temple. He rubbed his head and appeared before us.

“Impudent youth! You dare to interrupt my spell! Do you know who I am?” he demanded.

I blinked, my eye still aching slightly. Taking in his appearance, I grinned. “I suggest you stop this nonsense and obediently come with the police officer behind me. Don’t make things harder on yourself.”

“Hmph! You want to arrest me? You two puny kids haven’t even grown your full hair yet. What right do you have?” he scoffed.

I ran my fingers through my hair, rolled up my sleeves, and said, “Just because you know some low-level magic, you think you’re powerful? You’re nothing but a petty villain using spirits and demons to harm others.”

I sighed deeply and stepped forward. “Enough talk.”

Suddenly, I accelerated and punched the old man squarely in the face. His reaction was slow; he tried to dodge but failed, taking the blow solidly. He groaned and stumbled back several steps. Once he steadied himself, I grabbed his throat with one hand and, with a burst of strength, lifted the small old man—no heavier than a hundred pounds—off the ground.

Taking a deep breath, I held my sword finger with my left hand and jabbed it into his chest. His face changed color, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood onto my clothes.

I released him, and he collapsed to the ground, convulsing. “Jiang Huai! Don’t kill him!” Prince Hao struggled to his feet and hurried over, anxiously watching the old man.

I shook my head. “I only struck his ‘Tan Zhong’ vital point. He won’t die, but it’ll keep him miserable for a while.”

I turned away, ignoring the old man, and examined the corner he had hidden behind the black mist. There were four small wine jars, each sealed with a red paper inscribed with the characters for “spirits” and “demons.” Inside each jar lay straw bedding, topped with clay figurines etched with intricate tiny talismans.

Before the jars were offerings and a pale human bone, carved with a strange, eerie spell.

While I was investigating, the old man—still pale and incapacitated—suddenly sat up cross-legged. Using his own blood, he sketched an unknown symbol on his palm, then struck Prince Hao’s leg with a palm strike.

“Heh heh... Want to catch me? You’re dreaming. Maybe next lifetime!” he sneered.

No sooner had the old man spoken than Prince Hao, as if possessed, dashed recklessly toward the edge of the rooftop. He was about to jump!

“Brother Hao!” I cried out.