"The thickness of human skin is barely half a millimeter. Beneath it, bright red blood courses through vessels more densely packed than clusters of wisteria caterpillars crawling over a wall, spreading warmth throughout the body."
Leon lounged in a mahogany chair, his arms folded behind his head, watching Batman encircled by vengeful spirits.
Most Chinese are familiar with the idiom "feeding a tiger with its own victims" , originating from the Taiping Guangji, a Song dynasty collection of supernatural tales. The phrase describes how the souls of those devoured by tigers linger, becoming subservient changgui spirits that aid the tiger in preying upon other innocents.
The Skyfiend Godslayer Technique included a similar spell to subjugate wandering spirits. By intimidating their ignorant souls, these spirits temporarily became changgui, obedient to the spellcaster's command.
Fortunately for Leon, foreign devils knew nothing of Feng Shui or sorcery. The Sappa estate, situated in a dense coniferous forest, brimmed with heavy, stagnant yin energy. The mafia's violent deeds, coupled with their penchant for burying enemies beneath nearby trees, created a site steeped in malevolent qi. Without such favorable conditions, Leon would have struggled to summon so many changgui in one go.
While these vengeful spirits lacked physical attack capabilities, the cold deathly qi they exuded was akin to poison for the living. A brief touch could induce chills and sickness; prolonged exposure could lead to comas lasting months.
In the blink of an eye, Batman was consumed by the swarm of spirits. His Kevlar armor offered no protection against the countless ghostly hands. His once-formidable physique, honed through relentless training, was quickly engulfed in an iron-blue hue. Even his expression froze, as though carved from stone.
"But with a single, sharp blade, one thrust can pierce that peach-colored, fragile skin, releasing warm, crimson blood to drench the killer's hands in warmth."
Leon recited lines from the short poem Vengeance as he watched Batman collapse to one knee. The thick plating of his knee armor struck the ground, leaving a visible dent in the wooden floor.
The Dark Knight's trembling fingers pressed into the congealed pool of blood beneath him, leaving a streak of dark red across his glove.
"And then, with a breath of ice and lips pale as frost, grant humanity its moment of flight—the ultimate exhilaration of life!"
As Leon's recital crescendoed, Batman finally collapsed entirely, his statuesque frame sprawled across the floor, his heaving throat laboring to draw in the icy air.
The changgui twisted their faces into grotesque grins. They turned toward Leon, bowing deeply in a display of respect and gratitude. Though they could not speak, the faint ripples of their spiritual presence conveyed their sentiments clearly:
"Thank you for giving us the chance to take revenge."
Leaving Batman behind, the spirits shifted their focus to Richard Sappa, advancing silently.
Rigid arms stretched forward, their movements unnatural and jerky. Their distorted faces radiated malice as they closed in on Richard, ready to deliver eternal punishment.
Revenge was tantalizingly close. The spirits' ethereal mist surged like writhing tendrils, twisting wildly in the air.
Richard ceased struggling. He leaned against the wooden railing of the staircase, sneering at the approaching spirits.
"No!"
A child's voice pierced the tension. The changgui froze in place, turning their translucent heads toward the sound.
On the staircase stood a boy, perhaps seven or eight years old, his face delicate and innocent. His neatly combed bangs rested on his forehead, and he wore a perfectly tailored suit. Wide-eyed and trembling, he looked down at Richard with a mixture of fear and concern.
"Colombo! You damned little brat, get the hell out of here!"
Richard's composure broke. Veins bulged on his reddening face as he screamed at the boy, his voice hoarse and frantic.
"No! Father!" The boy, identified as Colombo, ran down the stairs and flung himself at Richard, wrapping his small arms tightly around his father's bloated waist. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he clung to the man amidst the changgui's oppressive gaze.
From the shadows, Richard's mistress emerged. She knelt beside him and her son, embracing them both. The three huddled together in the midst of the vengeful spirits, a fragile tableau of familial love.
It was touching. Warm, even.
But unfortunately for them, they were dealing with Leon.
"As the Shang Shu: Tai Shi Xia says: 'To cultivate virtue, one must deepen its roots; to eliminate evil, one must remove it at its source.'" Leon tapped his chin with the tip of his piercing knife, his voice contemplative. "I'm a reasonable man. I target the ringleaders. I don't enjoy killing the defenseless."
He leaned forward, his tone sharpening. "Here's the deal, Richard. I'll give you ten seconds. Get your wife and kid out of here, and I won't kill them. Sound fair?"
Richard's pupils contracted. Without hesitation, he swung his fist into his mistress's jaw, knocking her unconscious, and kicked her limp body into a corner. He grabbed Colombo by the leg and hurled the child toward the wall, where he crumpled to the floor.
Richard raised his arms in defiance, roaring like a wounded lion. "Come on! Kill me!"
"As you wish."
Leon snapped his fingers, and the changgui cackled as they advanced.
From behind, Batman sprang to his feet. With a flick of his cape, he unleashed a pair of electrodes tethered by coiled wires.
The taser fired its prongs, powered by compressed nitrogen, delivering a high-voltage current meant to incapacitate its target.
But Leon anticipated the move. He dropped into a low bridge stance, narrowly dodging the taser's wires. Batman pressed his advantage, slashing with his gauntlet's alloy blades, their edges grazing Leon's rain-slicked coat.
The two clashed, exchanging blows in a relentless dance of brutality—fists, knees, elbows, even headbutts. Within moments, they had traded a dozen strikes, each aiming for a decisive blow.
Despite his earlier bravado, Leon was reaching his limit. His energy reserves, replenished by the Human Immortal Qi Refinement Technique, were nearly depleted after the series of battles. Driving the changgui had been a desperate gamble. Now, locked in a life-or-death struggle, he was barely holding on.
Without Leon's spiritual energy sustaining them, the changgui began to dissipate, their forms wavering like mist caught in the wind. They lingered, their frustration palpable, their mournful cries echoing as they faded from sight.