Strongest Among the Heavens
Chapter 372: Insects

Chapter 372: Insects

The Underground was a hive and the Dark Tower was the light that attracted the insects. A place of worship to some and a place of opportunity to others. Unfolding north of the tower was a marketplace, an extension of the selling within the Dark Tower. Here, the clamor was louder and thicker with coins. The Sukhothai, it was called, and it was the largest concentration of the black market in the Nebulous Bazaar. Approximately two kilometers long, perhaps longer, it was made of wood, shadows, and deceit. Nothing was truly owned here.

Two young boys, Heng and Shaoruo, manned a small wooden stand. They were selling healing potions, brightly colored and neatly arranged on the weathered counter.

Dasha Pang watched them from a distance. His Venetian mask uintentionally reflected the torches’ light in a way that made him otherworldly. He observed as Heng, the older of the two with a serious demeanor, measured out doses for a customer, while Shaoruo, the younger brother, handled the coins while smiling and briefly explaining. One created, the other presented and took. The boys were hardworking and eager, but their knowledge of potion-making was shallow, their expertise borrowed rather than earned.

They did not study in-depth. They took what they could understand and sold it.

An hour passed. The market began to wind down and the crowds thinned. The boys started packing up their stand.

"Hello."

Dasha made himself known then. Both boys looked up.

Both boys smiled.

"Ah, Sir David!" Shaoruo greeted. "We were wondering when you would arrive!"

"How was business today?"

Shaoruo, always quick to respond, grabbed the inventory papers from beneath the counter. "We sold twenty-two potions today," he said proudly.

"And yesterday?" Dasha inquired.

"Twelve," Heng answered after a brief glance at the records.

"Good. You are improving," Dasha said. "Remember, quality is paramount. Ensure every potion meets the standards."

The boys nodded vigorously. "We will, Sir David," Heng assured him. "Again, thank you for the formula."

They were amateurs. They were meek and desperate. They were raised to be skeptical but when there was no other choice, there was no other choice. They had to take what they could get.

"But...we suspect you’ll want something from us," said Shaoruo. "Can’t you tell us already?"

Desperate, yes. Stupid, no. Shaoruo knew Dasha wanted something. A masked man wouldn’t pop up and hand them everything they wanted. There had to be a catch.

"...perhaps."

Shaoruo glowered, serious and up to the task. "What is it? Do not underestimate us, sir."

Dasha cocked his head. "Fine. I suppose I can trust you." He circled to the back of the stand and lowered himself to their level. Whispering, he said, "I am looking for the Bloody Kicker. If you see her, hear of her, or encounter any of her friends, do let me know."

The children nodded obediently. This was the Underground. This was how they were raised.

’They remind me of my children at the Paya Lebar Red School.’

***

Far from the busy Sukhothai, a young boy named Múchen climbed the rickety walls of a decrepit building. His home, if it could be called that, was on the sixth floor, where the roof leaked, and the walls were crumbling. But Múchen was used to it. He had grown up in the Underground, and this was all he knew.

Today had been another day of thieving; of gold and valuable stuff.

He climbed through the window and sat down. "Phew."

"Hello."

Múchen sprung to his feet. Panic, panic! An attack, a robbery! From the shadows, however, the boy saw only comfort. He relaxed. "It’s you, Mister!" he exclaimed.

Dasha was already heading to sit. "Múchen," he greeted, low and calm. "You look well. A great haul today?"

"I did!"

"I hope the knife was useful."

"Just for that—" Smack! A light bag of silver coins was settled next to him. Múchen’s knees were almost touching. "An eye for an eye, Mister. Now we’re even. No more favours between us."

Dasha cocked his head. "Agreed, no favours."

The silence only lasted for less than a second. Múchen’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he tapped him and spoke. "Princess Liuying has returned to the surface! I saw her leave earlier today! Oh, but don’t tell anyone!"

"Is that right? As a new fan of hers, I appreciate it." Dasha looked at him, his dark eyes shown through the mask. "Remember to stay vigilant, Múchen. Information is power, and you are very good at gathering it. Maybe even too good."

The boy nodded eagerly. "I will, Mister. I promise."

Dasha got up. Princess Liuying was no longer at the Underground. That meant it was time. The bodies of her scouts were to be splattered and hung for everyone to see. So while she remained above in the heavens, hell would begin to erode her influence and face.

It was up to her remaining cohorts to prevent that from happening.

***

Body—

YOU ARE NOT WORTHY

—after body—

THEY KNOW. THEY KNOW EVERY SCENT. SCENT UNTIL KNOWING HELPLESSLY ONLY THE HARSHEST ASCENDS ISOLATION.

—after body—

THE PRINCESS IS A WHORE THAT JUMPS UP AND DOWN

—after body—

CONTINUE EACH NIGHT TREMBLING RIGHT AS LONELINESS SETS IN.

—were stitched and hung to the walls and strings. The whispers were already engulfing the underworld. The deed was done without a single eye or ear knowing who was behind it.

The neighbourhoods of Old Guts and Blood, Bakasura, Agrat bat Mahlat, and Qin belonged to great factions and individuals. They were ruled like street gangs and often skirmished. Violence was commonplace. It was a language. An art form.

The strewn up corpses of Princess Liuying’s scouts were a clear message. The messages accompanying the corpses were even clearer. It was declaring war. But it left one question remaining: who was responsible? Dramatic messages like these would not stop until the individual responsible was killed.

Dasha made his way back to the marketplace. The torches burned low and the day had begun again. He approached the boys’ stand, where Heng and Shaoruo were just finishing unpacking. The potions Dasha had given them were kept in a magical box that disallowed theft.

"Mr. David," Heng said again, surprised by his return. "Nice to see you again. We haven’t opened up."

"And we have not yet sighted the Bloody Kicker," Shaoruo added.

"No need," Dasha replied. "I have a task for you."