A man, black in both aura and soul, emerged out of the subway train and staggered past the morning crowd with a noticeable limp in his walk.
Few people knew him by name, but that was not what attracted all attention towards him. Was it the fresh splatter of blood on the front of his shirt and his all over disheveled state that made eyes turn in his direction?
'Who is this man?' 'Is that blood his own?' 'Why is he walking like that?'
These were the thoughts running through most minds at the subway station. But what everyone didn't realize was that they were seeing The Devil in the flesh.
The Devil. My, what a name. It was an epithet that brought even the most valorous of adults to their knees.
The Devil.
A name that sparked fear.
But who exactly was this man? And why was he feared so much?
The Devil, also known as the most infamous, yet cleverest serial killer of China, was a criminal still on the loose. Nobody knew of his appearance since he was typically very discreet with his tasks, but this time, his target had unexpectedly struck back and led him to this onerous situation.
As The Devil limped his way through the crowded subway station in an attempt to seek haven, he was oblivious of all the shocked eyes on him since his vision had gone blurry due to excessive blood loss.
But not to worry, the man was not a stranger to such injuries. Showing great courage and determination, the man with a shadowed face led himself up the stairs and out into the open Guangzhou air, where he then proceeded to drag himself behind a narrow, damp alleyway. The place smelled of filth and was swarming with flies, but The Devil had more concerning things to care about.
"Aghh!" he groaned as he lifted his shirt and patted at the wound over his abdomen, a wound inflicted by a jab of a dagger. "What rotten luck."
Today had been the day The Devil was to carry out his 39th murder, but for some strange reason, it had not gone according to plan.
His target this time had been a middle-aged government official who was deemed a trash man by the media several times, but no one ever fired him even though there was rock hard evidence of him doing the unspeakable to his secretary without her permission. It had been a vile act, and any such person, in The Devil's opinion, was better off wiped from the face of the Earth.
Unfortunately for him, the government official had a nice dagger on hand which he flicked open the moment The Devil charged at him with his signature weapon: A nice pair of polished bagh nakhs.
Because of his special choice of weapon, it was rumored that The Devil had extremely long and pointy nails with which he slashed his target's throats. The truth was, The Devil had no intention of stopping at a mere 39 body count when there were thousands of people in the Guangzhou district alone which needed to be removed from this planet, because their sinful acts and vile intentions were the reason the population was so contaminated today.
"Sh*t!" The Devil hissed as he stood up again, not being able to bear any more blood loss, and was relieved to know of a nearby pharmacy. He knew he couldn't go inside in such a state, so he wiped off the blood from his black leather jacket and zipped it up so his sodden shirt underneath was concealed. Carefully, as he tried to keep his balance while he crossed the street, The Devil made his way to the pharmacy and stepped in like he was just another ordinary customer.
"C-Can I have some antibiotic ointment and two rolls of gauze?" he pronounced with great difficulty to the female receptionist behind the tall glass barrier.
The woman looked up and blushed as she caught sight of the handsome stranger, oblivious to the immense pain he was going through.
"A-A-Are you from around here, sir?" she squealed as she leaned forward on the counter. "My, you have such gorgeous black eyes. Would it be possible for you to give me your number?"
Through his pain and blurry vision, The Devil smiled and gave a slight shake of his head.
"I'm afraid I'm in a hurry. Can I please get some gauze and antibiotic ointment?" he muttered as he curled his fist, unable to bear the penetration in his stomach. Indeed, it was crippling, but he had to maintain his resolve.
"Oh..." the woman faltered, disappointed. "Sure, that will be 268 yuan. Would you like a bag?"
"Whatever," he replied curtly, getting impatient.
The woman arched a scrutinizing eyebrow and slid the three items in front of him and then straight up left after he had given her the money. The Devil picked the items up and limped back outside.
He clenched his jaw in pain as he flopped back down on the dirty alley floor behind the shelter of the dumpster bins before pulling out the newly purchased medical items from his jacket's pockets and laying them out on the floor.
"I-I can't take it anymore," he groaned as he zipped open his jacket and lifted his shirt to study the large bleeding gash in the middle of his abdomen. The Devil took off his jacket and slipped off his bloody shirt with which he wiped his gash before applying the antibiotic ointment to it. It stung, but the cool pain wasn't unbearable.
After his gash was properly wrapped in bandages, he zipped back on his leather jacket and threw his bloody shirt in one of the dumpsters before walking away from the site forever.