"Ayo, my bro be trippin. Do something, man." Lil Marquis implored Daniel as Fang Fang's ungraceful fall caught his attention.
Life in the city was crazy, but today's events had pushed the boundaries of their usual madness. The rapid steam of bullets shredded the air where Fang Fang's upper body had been just a moment before. Luckily, the bullets were aimed at his torso rather than his lower limbs, and his fall dodged the deadly hail, giving him a brief window of respite.
"You-a stupido, how can you be so stupido." Marcello's laughter subsided into a chuckle as he taunted Fang Fang.
"Aren't you in the same boat? I can easily steal your Embernit. So, why aren't you scramming?"
"Eh, the cat is already in the bag. I invite you-a to try, even if you can-a steal, what-a thing killing doesn't solve?" Marcello retorted with a hint of amusement in his tone.
A shiver coursed through Daniel, as if the desert sun that was tanning his torso had suddenly turned cold. The camels were still about ten meters away from him and Marquis.
What thing killing doesn't solve?
"That rat-rat-rat bastard is gonna ki-kill us." He whispered to Marquis. "Want to give run-run-running a shot?"
Following the road would be a trap; Marcello's car could easily catch up with their camels. Going off road into the desert, however, might lead them to the territory of desert marauders. This group comprised escaped criminals, essentially their territory was a prison without guards.
Marcello was less likely to pursue them in that direction because no one would love to donate their hole to lawless savages who might even cook you for dinner.
Upon hearing the suggestion, Marquis pulled down his t-shirt collar, revealing the tattooed area over his heart. Embernit was a simple mound design, outlined in brown. It was also drained of stamina.
"Let's take our boy and roll."
"Are you-you crazy?" Daniel said. "You kno-kno-know the risk of using Embernits on zero stamina. I-I-I am already a fuckup but if you-you reach Level 2 wi-w-iwith your high gr-gr-grade talent then you'd be something real."
"He's family, man."
"Cmon, you-you barely know th-th-the dude. He's a freak"
"I saved your ass before, even though we'd just met back then."
Daniel was at a loss for words, and this time, it wasn't the shutter. He lowered his gaze to inspect the dragonfly tattoo etched on his chest. The latent risks of using Embernit when out of stamina ranged from a permanent reduction in stamina to even death.
However, deaths attributed to the excessive use of Embernit rarely affected anyone who had surpassed the Level 1 Novice stage. Eventually, Daniel nodded in agreement.
"Heck, I al-al-already lost a ba-ba-ball. What worse could ha-happen?"
"What, chinna?"
However, Daniel simply shook his head. The outline of the dragonfly tattoo etched on his chest faintly began to radiate.
They planned to create a sand bomb. The concept was to place an unstable wind current along with finely ground sand within a hard stone ball. When Marcello would see the sphere hurtling in his direction, he would shoot, triggering a sand explosion that could bind him momentarily, considering both his hands were occupied by the Tommy gun. At the very minimum, it would generate a sand curtain that might serve as a diversion to facilitate their escape.
. . .
'I can't steal his Embernit!' Fang Fang exclaimed on failing the best-case scenario of stealing Marcello's Embernit and turning the tables.
'I wonder how I stole it in the first place. He provoked me into stealing his Embernit, which suggests he's pretty confident. Most likely, that confidence stems from his Level 2 cultivation. The gap between firing a single bullet and releasing a barrage of hundreds is substantial.
'I might have been transmigrated, some things change but others remain the same, There's always a difference of heaven and earth between subsequent cultivation levels.'
A Level 2 cultivator could easily defeat a Level 0 individual who had stolen Embernit that weren't even at full strength. The truth remained unchallenged, just like the sun behind Marcello, ready to put an end to another day.
'My strategy of circling around him to blind him with the sun's glare didn't work out. Now, I am cornered with no moves left."
Yet, the scene took a twist. A brown sphere soared above Fang Fang's head and rocketed in Marcello's direction. Green threads, swimming like delicate tendrils, pushed the ball at remarkable speed.
A fraction of those threads descended towards Fang Fang, entwining around his ears. He heard Daniel's voice whispering, "r-r-run."
If the ball was thrown at Luca, then he would've tried to hit a home run. But the target, Marcello, shifted the aim of his Tommy gun.
His black eyes reflected the ball's approach. At this point, the ant and human duo had depleted their stamina. Their Embernits no long held a threat. Therefore, Marcello chose not to fire, but instead lifted a hand to capture the incoming sphere.
"You want-a me to take a shot at it," Marcello mused. "If I was 20 years younger, maybe I fall for your-a dirty game. But this-a time, I will catch-a it nice and easy."
The ball turned bigger and bigger in his vision as it approached; it was the size of his head. He would have caught it without fracturing its stone shell, if only the black baseball-bat, hidden by the ball, its sound masked by the wind current, didn't hurl towards him.
BLAST!
The black bat crashed on the sand bomb, making a crack spread along its hard surface.
Compressed wind current trapped within the ball found an outlet through the crack, resulting in a sand spray all over Marcello.
As the blast subsided, sand ran down Marcello's face and attire, his collar choked with fine grains. Even the roof of the Fort T, now covered in sandy hue, appeared to have undergone a transformation. The Tommy Gun, too, was smothered in a coating of dry sand.
With a mixture of anger and urgency, he wiped his face with one hand, his eyes darted around to catch any glimpse of Fang Fang and the others fleeing. Yet, all that met his gaze was the sight of a spinning baseball bat hurtling towards him once again. Caught off guard, he failed to evade the approaching bat in time, resulting in a forceful impact against his head that sent his hat flying.
"This is easy when you get a hang of it," Fang Fang said as the baseball-bat materialized in his left hand again. On his right hand was a revolver, aimed at Marcello. "What problems killing doesn't solve?"
Daniel, now seated atop the camel, and Lil Marquis, poised for escape, were both left dumbfounded. The tides of the battle had turned in an unforeseen twist. If Marcello were to take action at that very moment, their homie would shoot the damn rat bastard.
However, contrary to expectations, Marcello raised his Tommy Gun.
In a surprising turn, Fang Fang squeezed the trigger. With both hands, he gripped the revolver to mitigate recoil. The black bullet unleashed forward with the ferocity of a lightning bolt. It sliced the air, finding its mark as it struck Marcello in the gut.
Despite the searing pain, the 42-year-old Mafia boss flinched and managed to pull the trigger of his Tommy gun. In his mind, he could already see his enemies torn to shreds by the hail of bullets. But the gun jammed, its bullets imprisoned within the stubborn chamber. He rapped the top of the gun in a desperate attempt for a quick fix, but it was to no avail.
The pain of a bullet stuck inside his abdomen spread like a shockwave throughout his internal organs. To pressure his wound with both hands, he had to let go of the Tommy gun.
With his Level 2 Cultivation, he had hoped to tank the bullet. But gunshot wounds were always a gamble, as bullets could take unpredictable paths upon entering the body. This time, he drew the bitter end of the stick; the bullet hadn't even passed through his body, meaning his internal organs had absorbed all the power of the shot.
In agony, he crumpled to his knees, his head coming into contact with the car's roof as he hunched over it.
Maybe Daniel's survival after being hit by a shot ten times more fatal had clouded his judgment.
'It is over.' Fang Fang exhaled, feeling a void in his palm. His energy seemed to be draining from two points in his body. Gazing at his palm, he saw the winged gun tattoo gradually fading away. The same process was occurring with his other Embernit as well.
Daniel and Marquis hurried toward Fang Fang while Luca and Remo approached Marcello. The battle had concluded, leaving everyone in a state of dirt, sweat, blood, or a combination of them all.
"How'd you pull that off, bro? You're fire, I swear." Marquis asked, his body reeked of exhaustion yet his eyes were bright.
Despite his previous life extending for over 500 years, Fang Fang thought his existence was somewhat lackluster. Thus, the present felt like a dream to him. The tattoo on his palm had now vanished completely. He looked up towards Lil Marquis and Daniel, his homies, and smiled.
"I am something of a cultivator myself."