Zhao Qianshan and Fatty Luo were both locals. Of course, they knew about the mysterious minority who called the mountain depths their home. They all had tattoos on their sturdy bodies, moving with almost preternatural grace and agility. Since they were young, the two had heard from their elders about the many legends surrounding those reclusive folk.
Bandits used to roam the far hills and countryside of Clear Water County just a few decades ago. It was said that these bandits were all hunted and killed by this fierce minority.
"I'll talk, I'll talk." A wise man knows not to eat a loss when he sees one. Zhao Qianshan and Fatty Luo could only pray that the fiend would show them mercy when he learned they had tattled.
He Changming pulled his sleeves down in satisfaction. The clan's reputation preceded itself despite several decades of silence.
