Alai's head throbbed with pain as he slowly regained consciousness. The back of his head, where he had been struck, ached terribly. His thoughts were fuzzy, and he struggled to clear the fog clouding his mind.
His mouth was gagged with a thick towel, preventing him from making any sound. Forcing his eyes open, he found himself crammed into the trunk of an SUV. His entire body was tightly bound with rough hemp ropes, leaving him unable to move. The vehicle was speeding down a rugged mountain road, and each jolt sent waves of pain through his body. He could feel the ropes cutting into his skin, desperately hoping that the friction would eventually wear them down.
After what felt like an eternity, the SUV finally came to a stop.
The trunk was thrown open, and through his blurred vision, Alai saw a man with a pig-like face and a twisted scar on his sunburnt skin. The man wore sunglasses and had a cruel expression that made Alai's blood run cold.
"Scarface!"
Alai gasped in horror, quickly crossing his eyes and pretending to be dead.
Scarface looked him over and cursed, "Damn brat! Not dead yet, huh? I've killed nine people before you; with you, it'll be ten. Just accept your fate!"
With that, Scarface roughly dragged him out of the trunk and threw him onto the ground.
Alai found himself in a desolate cemetery surrounded by a sparse grove of trees. Scarface removed his sunglasses and tossed his shirt aside, revealing muscular, dark arms. He spat into his palms, rubbed them together, and began digging a pit with a shovel, sweat pouring from his brow.
Before long, the pit was ready.
Scarface grabbed Alai and threw him into the pit, leaving him curled up at the bottom.
Panting heavily, Scarface took a break, pulling out a pack of expensive cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one and sat down, puffing away as he stared at Alai's "corpse."
"You poor bastard," he muttered. "Still giving me the evil eye, are you? Believe me, I can pop those eyes of yours right out! You only have yourself to blame—saw things you shouldn't have seen, heard things you shouldn't have heard."
Alai, hearing his words and seeing the man's increasingly vicious expression, focused even harder on playing dead. He used the meditation techniques taught by Master Kong, holding his breath and slowing his heartbeat, lying motionless with his eyes rolled back.
Scarface continued smoking leisurely, rubbing his swollen face as he seemed lost in thought. With a sigh, he walked over to Alai, squatted down, and pulled his eyelids closed.
"Rest in peace. Life and death are fated, wealth and honor decreed by heaven. The sooner you die, the sooner you'll be reborn. Maybe in your next life, you'll be born into a rich family, and you won't have to work like a dog for others like me."
"Rumble!"
The sky darkened ominously, thick clouds roiling as thunder rumbled deeply, like a beast struggling against ancient chains. The world grew dark as ink.
Scarface looked up, muttering, "Don't blame me; it's just business. I've got no choice, just following orders."
He took a few more drags of his cigarette, then stubbed it out forcefully with his foot. Standing up, he grabbed the shovel and began piling dirt and rocks onto Alai's body.
Alai had already realized that Scarface was a strong, burly man in his thirties, with a cruel streak to match his brute strength. Bound as he was, Alai knew that any sign of life would earn him a fatal blow to the head.
In this desolate place, hoping for rescue was a futile dream. He could only rely on the meditation techniques to slow his breathing and heartbeat, sinking into a deep, still state as the dirt and stones began to cover him. The sensation of his limbs disappearing as they were buried was overwhelming.
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning split the sky, tearing through the clouds.
"Crack! Crack! Crack!"
Thunder roared as the lightning flashed past Scarface, splitting a tree on the slope above and sending rocks tumbling down, narrowly missing him.
"Mother of God!"
Terrified, Scarface's hair stood on end. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, trembling uncontrollably. The scar on his face twitched spasmodically as he babbled, "Don't blame the executioner... Oh, heaven above, you can't be serious, right? I'm broke, desperate for cash, and this job was all I could get."
Noticing two packs of expensive cigarettes had fallen from his pocket, he quickly picked them up. After a moment's hesitation, he threw them both into the pit, his hands shaking.
"Kid, these were in your pocket. I only took one, so I'm giving them back. Take them to the afterlife, and let's call it even. No hard feelings."
Muttering reassurances to himself, Scarface gathered his courage and looked around. Seeing no one, he noticed a large stone slab nearby, half-buried in the earth. With all his strength, he dragged it over, covering the pit and hastily shoveling dirt over it before stumbling back to the SUV. He threw the shovel into the trunk, climbed into the driver's seat, and sped away from the grove.
What happened next was beyond belief.
The sky darkened further as thick clouds gathered overhead. Bolts of lightning streaked through the air, followed by deafening thunderclaps. The entire sky, once black as ink, turned a blinding white as the storm raged.
"Crack! Crack! Crack!"
The bolts of lightning struck faster and louder, crashing down on the hilltop where Alai had been buried.
"Crack! Crack! Crack!"
The stone slab was shattered by the relentless lightning strikes.
The ground trembled as the thunder shook the grove.
Curled up at the bottom of the pit, Alai felt powerful currents of electricity surging through his body, forming a Y-shaped pattern from his head to his toes. His blood seemed to boil, as though his body was being tempered by the lightning itself. His heart pounded like a rocket ready to launch, and as the sensation became unbearable, he lost consciousness.
Then, raindrops the size of beans began to pelt down, driven by the howling wind.
The storm turned the world into a blur of white, the rain falling like a curtain, blown by the wind into mist, smoke, and dust. Rainwater seeped into the pit, soaking Alai.
When he finally regained consciousness, he slowly stretched his stiff limbs. He realized that the ropes binding him had mostly been burned and snapped by the lightning. Filled with a desperate will to survive, he clawed at the dirt and rocks, finally breaking through the surface and gasping for air, greedily drinking in the rainwater.
With newfound strength, he struggled to his feet, wiping the mud from his face. His clothes were in tatters, hanging from his body like rags. When he reached up to touch his hair, he found it singed and curled, standing up in strange, burnt tufts.
Taking a deep breath, he clenched his fists, rage boiling inside him. "Scarface, you bastard," he muttered. "You kill people like it's nothing, but I'll never forget this. I may be just an ant in your eyes, but you can't just snuff out my life like that."
With his emotions surging, he spread his arms wide, letting the storm rage around him. His chest heaved as he shouted to the heavens, "My name is Lei Tianlai! I am the thunder god descended from the sky! Anyone who tries to take my life is dreaming!"
The rain intensified, and the sky grew darker.
Alai's head throbbed with pain, and he stumbled, tripping over a rock. He noticed a pack of unopened cigarettes partially buried in the mud. He bent down and picked it up, finding it miraculously intact, with only a few spots of dried blood. He wrapped it carefully in a plastic bag he found nearby and tucked it into his pocket.
Surveying the eerie, deserted cemetery, he felt no fear. In the pouring rain, he looked around and chose a spot on a hillside that offered some shelter. Sitting down, he began to think deeply.
"I heard things I shouldn't have heard. I saw things I shouldn't have seen."
He repeated the words to himself over and over, determined not to forget. He strained to remember the events leading up to his ordeal, piecing together the clues as he analyzed everything that had happened.