Stealing from 11-year-old young masters is both lucrative and morally right. I'm a landscaper by trade, one of the first in the Thunder Eagle sect. As an outer disciple, I also work for tips. That used to be enough until I got a girlfriend. Ok, it's not what you think. I'm not showering her with new Dragon Fang flying swords and all the beauty pills I can funnel down her throat. Her clan is in a bad situation, barely keeping it together, by the way she says it. She's also too prideful to take the stones herself so I drop off the money. It's gotten better, but even fleecing ten young masters a week isn't enough to keep the lights on. Fortunately, a tournament is coming up, and my demand has never increased. This is the story of how love killed me.