19 Customers

Zhang Long and Alan sat in the shop, idly staring at the entrance. It had already been a few days, and there were only a couple more until the next beast wave.

They had received no customers, with the few passers by glancing disdainfully at the shop's front price board.

Clearly, nobody was taking them seriously.

Then,when Zhang Long thought there would be no business as usual, a small group of three walked into the shop. There were two men and one woman, all being at similar heights of 1.7 metres.

'Hey, is this store for real?' The woman asked with a grin.

One of her punk-like male companions chuckled. He looked at Zhang Long and Alan sitting in the large front room and snorted derisively.

'Oi oi! You fellas, where's the store owner?'

Zhang Long glanced at his blonde haired friend, before looking the 'customer' in the eyes.

The man had ginger hair and reeked of sweat. He was pointing a large stubby finger in Zhang Long's direction.

He then shifted his attention to study the two others, who were feeling slightly unsettled by his unwavering gaze.

The woman was supporting another man. He had a puncture wound in his lower abdomen which seemed to run all the way through his body and out the other side.

Much to Zhang Long's surprise, the wound had no blood dripping out even though it was so severe. What shocked him even more was the fact that the man was fully conscious, seemingly unaffected by the wound.

If not for it's gaping profile and the man's reliance on his friend, Zhang Long might have mistaken him for a perfectly healthy person.

'That would be me.'

Zhang Long slowly stood up off the chair and stepped forward. Alan did so as well, gently fingering his knife artefact which was tucked safely into his back pocket.

The ginger man stomped on the ground, making his way toward Zhang Long.

'Then get a move on! Can't you see that my friend is injured?!' He yelled.

His eyes were red and he raised his fist with a threatening gesture.

Alan immediately brandished his artefact. In a flash of blue light, the ginger man found a knife resting on his wrist.

'That's a major artery. I wouldn't recommend making any trouble, however if you do...'

Alan licked his lips, suddenly transforming from a cold but cordial man to a jungle predator.

'Then I won't mind cutting off your wrist and flaying you alive.'

The ginger man reeled backward in terror, letting out a startled squeal.

His female friend shuffled forward to catch him, steadying him back on his feet.

The ginger man stared, eyes wide open at Alan's artefact. He then looked at the latter's forehead, noticing the grey cloth concealing his soul stone.

'I couldn't tell what grade this man was before because of that cloth however he activated his artefact! I saw it flash blue, he must still be grade one! I'm sure of it!'

He glanced worriedly at Gerard, before looking back at Alan.

Even though he was sure he could defeat the blonde haired man, he wasn't certain whether Gerard would be able to live that long.

'Damn cultists!' He cursed under his breath, unclenching his fists.

Alan nodded, artefact disappearing with a wave of his sleeve.

'Wise choice.'

Zhang Long, tapped his quarterstaff on the floor, attracting everyone's attention.

'I'm sure you all saw the prices listed at the front of the store. I will tell you now that I will not make any compromises in them. A scratch is a scratch and a fatal wound is a fatal wound. They shall be paid for accordingly.'

The ginger man clenched his fists again. With a livid expression, he responded, 'Those prices are ridiculous. Not even the best doctor in this entire city would dare charge such outrageous fees.'

He cracked his knuckles before continuing, 'The price you set for an ordinary injury is already the same price as those high tier doctors offer for fatal wounds.'

Zhang Long sighed and straightened his coat sleeves.

'You say that the best doctor in this city has cheaper prices than this?'

The ginger man tensed up slightly. The seemingly weak and nonthreatening man in front of him exuded an air of danger. His legs felt stiff and sweat trickled down his neck in streams.

'This guy's bodyguard is only grade one. Why would someone employ a person weaker than themselves to be a body guard?' He thought.

Zhang Long walked at a measured pace right up to the ginger man. The former dwarfed the latter in height, casting his shadow over the man.

'Do you know who the best doctor in this city is?' He asked, in a way one would speak to a child.

The ginger man shook his head vigorously.

'I-I know so-'

'Irrelevant.' Zhang Long interrupted.

'How could the best doctor in this city have cheaper prices than me? How could I have cheaper prices than myself?'

The ginger man was sweating buckets of sweat now, he felt his body tremble uncontrollably.

'I am the best doctor in this city. There is no injury I cannot heal and no disease I cannot cure.'

Zhang Long boasted. He felt embarrassed and haughty however he concealed the emotions within Winter's grade three aura.

'Stick to the plan.' He thought, remembering Alan's instructions as he loomed over the ginger man.

Then, after half a minute of silent intimidation, he stepped back and sat down onto the chair.

"Thump!"

The ginger man fell to his knees, breathing in deep gulps of air. He had a look of fright and ecstasy on his face as he slumped there.

In the time that the man was immobilised, Zhang Long had already used his spirit vision to analyse Gerard's injury.

His mind froze as he looked at it.

'He's not injured?'

Then he shook his head, drawing more spiritual energy from his soul stone.

'He's definitely injured, yet my spirit vision shows no red colour, only green and orange.'

Gerard's gaping wound had been completely sealed, filled with a black dust like substance. The more Zhang Long looked at the wound, the more surprised he grew.

'I've seen this before. It's like what happened with my arm when it got cut off. If it's an open wound, then I can heal it but if it's a closed one, my talent won't work.'

He frowned slightly, rubbing his quarterstaff in contemplation. Then his eyes lit up as he thought of a solution.

'Alan, cut his wound open.' Zhang Long said, walking toward Gerard.

'If there are no open wounds, I'll just make one!'

The three customers lost it, screaming and attempting to flee the store. It was as if demons from hell had climbed out from the depths of the Spring-Autumn Pavilion and were attempting to kill them.

Suddenly, they lost all strength in their legs. A feeling of oppression overwhelmed them and caused them to hit the floor helplessly.

Alan moved forward like a breeze of wind, instantly appearing beside Gerard.

He activated his artefact and carefully dug it into the black hole in the man's abdomen.

The metallic smell of blood greeted Zhang Long's nostrils as he stood next to Alan. Red light began to fill his spirit vision, plaguing Gerard's gaping wound.

He held down a jubilant feeling, quickly using his talent to heal the damaged areas.

The procedure went perfectly to plan, with Gerard's black wound being replaced with pink flesh and then being covered up by skin.

Half way through the operation, Zhang Long got sick of the man's distressed wailing. He raised his quarterstaff and knocked Gerard unconscious.

After a few more minutes, the injury was completely healed.

Zhang Long deactivated his talent and colour returned to his vision. Alan stepped back, splatters of blood dotting his hands.

The woman was blankly staring at Gerard, as was the ginger man.

'He's completely healed.' Zhang Long stated, returning to his usual cold demeanour.

The ginger man nodded slowly, taking a while to understand what had happened.

The two tended to Gerard, gently shaking him awake. The man yelled in terror and scrambled back upon seeing Zhang Long and Alan however his companions quickly calmed him down and explained what had happened.

Gerard looked at Zhang Long disbelievingly, touching the place where his injury was before.

He then hastily got up and bowed.

'Thank you very much for saving me.'

His two friends quickly joined in, continuously reciting thanks andpraises.

'That's enough. I didn't save you for free.' Zhang Long's cold voice cut the praises off, causing the room to descend into silence.

'Hey, you have all of our cash. You pay for it.' The woman nudged, whispering to the ginger man.

He nodded and rummaged around in a medium sized backpack.

'How much did that treatment cost?' He asked nervously.

'10,000 sovereigns.' Alan replied.

Seeing the ginger man's dismal look, he continued. 'Alternatively, you can pay in spirit stones or soul stones.'

The ginger man glanced at Zhang Long, who gave him an impassive expression.

'100 spirit stones.'

The ginger man's face turned pale again and Zhang Long highly suspected that the former may even faint on the spot.

'Or you can just pay a single grade two soul stone.'

The ginger man hurriedly returned to searching through his bag. He let out a pleased exclamation and pulled out a green gem.

'Here! I've got one!' He cried, handing it to Zhang Long.

The latter received it and gave it a cursory glance, before returning to his seat.

'Good. I have one question before you leave.'

The group of three nodded, swallowing nervously.

'Who caused that wound?'

At this moment, the ginger man's face contorted in anger. His veins bulged and his face turned red. The other two were not much better than him, expressing feelings or rage.

'It was the cultists. They came a few days ago and caused massive casualties to the pioneer association.' The ginger man growled, clearly recalling a few distressing moments.

Zhang Long nodded, as if it were no big deal. Internally however, he was startled.

'He said cultists... Could it be the Hymnist Orchestra?'

He thought of the musician who had attempted to take Herman Dynard's journal from him before, the way the pale faced man had failed to kill him and subsequently committed suicide.

What struck him the most was the way the man killed himself.

'He turned into a pile of rotting flesh and ash. Similar to this person's wound.'

Zhang Long's eyebrows narrowed involuntarily.

'Tell me more about those cultists. What else did they do other than attack the association?'

The ginger man calmed himself down, letting out deep breathes.

'I'm not too sure about what went on behind the scenes. I'm only a grade two pioneer after all.' He pointed to the green soul stone sitting on his glabella.

Just as he was about to continue, the woman butted in.

'I actually heard a few things about those cultist's true intentions.' She said in a hushed voice, as if they were being watched.

Zhang Long leaned forward slightly. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Alan tensing up too.

'I heard that they are looking for some sort of crystal or gem or something. It's supposed to be an extremely rare item which all large organisations would kill to get their hands on.'

And all of a sudden, his mind was full of confusion.

'Crystal? What about the notebook?' He wondered.

'The cultists attacked the pioneer's association because they have managed to get the crystal. The cultists are trying to create distractions and in the process, find the special item.' The woman said.

Zhang Long had long begun ignoring her. His mind was full of confused thoughts.

'I thought the Hymnist Orchestra came to reclaim Dynard's journal... Could it be that the crystal is just a cover up they made up to find the journal in secret, or could it be the other way around?'

'It would be best if the crystal was fake news and they just wanted to provide a fake reason to invade Bastion and take the journal. If the crystal was real, then that would make this whole situation even worse. Even though its 'mystical' description has likely been exaggerated, all myths stem from some sort of truth. Without a doubt, any organisation which laid it's hands on the crystal would become a force to be reckoned with.'

He sighed silently.

'I guess I knew what I was getting into when I started an organisation with Alan.'

A sudden crash came from the shop's front.

Zhang Long's lamenting was cut short as he leaped out of his seat and wielded his quarterstaff.

Alan reacted even faster, crouched low in a well practised position.

The front of the shop was cloaked in grey smoke, Zhang Long and Alan couldn't see what had happened.

They stuck together, weapons raised alertly.

The three customers had retreated to the corner of the room, weapons held nervously.

The sound of footsteps on the wooden floor echoed out, somewhat unnaturally. It sounded as if a pair of ballroom shoes clacking against a marble floor.

The footsteps were slow and deliberate, like a hunter spying it's prey.

Zhang Long felt a sense of danger and his subconscious repeatedly told him to flee.

'I can't see anything in this smoke.' He frowned.

Then he activated his spirit vision. The colours disappeared, replaced only with green, red and grey.

A source of green light appeared from within the smoke ahead, it's figure blurred.

It was a human.

Zhang Long glanced at Alan, gesturing him to advance. He then turned to face the mysterious figure who without a doubt had unfriendly intentions.

'Who are you?'