Defeating those thugs didn't bring Lin Xingyun much satisfaction. Looking at the three men lying unconscious on the ground, entangled like dumplings by his own shadow, he felt a strange irritation rising within him. The world had changed, and people's hearts seemed to change with it. Those who might once have only committed petty thefts were now brazenly breaking into houses and robbing people.
The sweet, fishy scent of psychic energy in the air seemed to catalyze the evil in human nature.
He no longer hesitated and simply packed his bag. A few changes of cotton and linen clothing, any remaining cash, and most importantly, the prop box filled with shadow puppets and the inherited dagger. He tucked the now-dimmed spirit core close to his body. It seemed to be an accelerator for cultivating the "Star Spirit Atlas," and he couldn't lose it.
At dawn, the sky was slightly bright, and Penang was shrouded in an eerie tranquility. Last night's chaos seemed to have subsided for now, but the burned-out cars on the street corners, the shattered windows, and the lingering smell of smoke all betrayed the harshness of change. Lin Xingyun, his hat pulled low, shouldered his backpack, and hurried toward the port.
The ferry terminal was much quieter than usual, and the frequency of departures had been significantly reduced. An anxious line formed at the ticket window, faces filled with anxiety and fear of the unknown. The official announcements resonated over the radio, claiming the military had secured control of the main urban area and urging the public to remain calm, but their effect seemed limited.
Lin Xingyun bought a ferry ticket to Hat Yai, a city in southern Thailand. Crossing the border by land was clearly unwise now, making sea travel a relatively viable option. He sat on the cool plastic chair in the waiting room, feeling the faint chill of the "Shadow Snake Witch Mark" in his palm. After last night's battle, he seemed to have become more adept at wielding this power, but he also became more aware of its limitations—it was adequate against ordinary humans, but facing mutants like the giant lizard, or even more powerful awakened beings, this ability would be far from sufficient.
The "Star Spirit Atlas" contained a vast and profound amount of information, and he could only decipher the most basic introductory sections. To condense more "Witch Marks" and enhance the strength of existing ones, he needed to continuously absorb spiritual energy. Spirit Cores and battles with powerful opponents seemed to be the fastest way to achieve this.
The ferry cut through the murky sea. The scenery of the Strait of Malacca remained as beautiful as ever, but none of the passengers on deck were in the mood to admire it. People huddled together, whispering about the horrors of their respective cities: giant acid-spitting bats appeared in Kuala Lumpur, Singapore's Gardens by the Bay overgrown with vegetation trapped an entire army, and swarms of mutant rats swarmed from Jakarta's sewers...
Lin Xingyun leaned against the side of the boat, eyes closed, concentrating, silently practicing the basic techniques of the "Star Spirit Atlas," attempting to capture the stray psychic particles from the sea breeze. The results were far less effective on land, especially near dense vegetation or ancient buildings, which gave him a deeper understanding of the environmental characteristics of psychic energy.
After several hours of sailing, the ferry finally docked. The atmosphere in Hat Yai was equally tense, but apparently, thanks to the Thai military's early and forceful intervention, order was better than in Penang. Lin Xingyun didn't stop and took a train directly to Bangkok.
The train passed through tropical countryside, with rice paddies, rubber plantations, and orchards passing by the window. Many fields seemed abandoned, with the occasional ruined farmhouse and strange, giant claw marks. The closer we got to Bangkok, the more psychic fluctuations in the air seemed to grow more vibrant and chaotic.
It was already evening when we arrived at Hua Lamphong train station. The "City of Angels" was still ablaze with lights, but the former vitality had been replaced by a tense, glittering atmosphere. Neon signs still flickered, but the number of military and police patrolling the streets had increased. Many shops had closed early, while some nightclubs and bars were unusually bustling, blasting music and unbridled noise, as if people were using their last ditch efforts to defy the panic of the apocalypse.
Lin Xingyun followed the vague address given by the elderly overseas Chinese and found a small hotel on the Chao Phraya River. The hotel owner, a taciturn elderly Thai, glanced at Lin Xingyun's ID and handed him the key without question. At a time like this, less is better.
After dropping off his luggage, Lin Xingyun decided to fill his stomach and inquire about the situation. He walked into a busy street stall near the hotel. Brightly lit, the stalls were set up by the river, filled with a diverse crowd: wary locals, boastful Western backpackers (some of whom displayed noticeable energy fluctuations, clearly Awakened), and a few solitary figures with gloomy auras sitting in corners.
The air was filled with the spicy and sour aroma of Tom Yum Goong, the charred aroma of grilled shrimp, and the distinct scent of lemongrass. Lin Xingyun ordered a plate of pork rice and a glass of iced lemongrass tea, found a secluded spot, and pricked up his ears.
The conversation around him centered around the mutation incident, the area being sealed off, and the latest rising "powerful figures." He quickly noticed a name being mentioned repeatedly: "Buakaw." It was said that this man, originally an instructor at a traditional local Muay Thai gym, had experienced a surge in strength after the spiritual rain, his punches unparalleled in power. In just a few days, he had defeated every opponent in the surrounding streets, recruited many followers, and dominated a well-stocked market, becoming a rising star. "I heard Buakaw has vowed to challenge all foreign Awakeners to prove Muay Thai is the most powerful fighting style!" a local man spitted.
"Hmph, just brute force. Yesterday, a European guy playing with fire refused to give in, and he broke several ribs with one punch. He's still in the hospital," another person interjected.
Lin Xingyun's mind struck. This kind of local expert might be a good sparring partner, a chance to test his own strength and more quickly integrate into the local information network. As he pondered this, he suddenly felt a faint, chilling presence lock onto him.
The presence wasn't overtly hostile, more like a cold snake, silently wrapping around his ankle. He subconsciously channeled his psychic energy, feeling a slight warmth in the witch patterns on his palms. He glanced warily at the source of the aura—a skinny old man in a plain, worn shirt, leisurely eating a grilled fish in the corner. He seemed to sense Lin Xingyun's gaze and raised his head, revealing a wrinkled face and a pair of unusually cloudy eyes, the whites of which were barely visible.
The old man's lips twitched ever so slightly at Lin Xingyun, revealing an indescribable, half-smile. Then, he placed down a few Thai baht notes, stood up, and staggered away from the stall.
Just as the old man's figure disappeared into the crowd, Lin Xingyun suddenly felt a piercing chill and a slight stinging sensation on the inside of his left arm! He quickly rolled up his sleeves and saw a coin-sized, dark, and distorted black mark on his arm. It resembled an abstract eye, or a wriggling worm, emitting an ominous aura.
"Black magic?!" Lin Xingyun's mind flashed back to the old overseas Chinese's warning, and alarm bells rang! He tried to use his psychic energy to impact the mark, but it seemed to have taken root, unmoving. Instead, a chilling sensation spread slightly up his arm! He immediately stood up, checked out, and hurried back to his hotel room. Closing the door, he carefully examined the mark again. Under the light, the mark seemed even darker, its edges seemingly wiggling ever so slowly. A lingering feeling of being watched, of being marked, lingered within him.
The "Star Spirit Atlas" seemed to contain scattered records of various curses and sorceries, but they were all vague. This strange technique, originating from Southeast Asia, clearly had a different origin from the "Star Sea Shaman" tradition he inherited, but it also involved the use of psychic energy and spirituality.
"I can't just sit there and wait for death." Lin Xingyun's eyes narrowed. Since the other party had placed a mark, they must have some ulterior motive. Rather than passively waiting, it was better to take the initiative. Buakaw, the "Ong Bak" (Boxing King), was a local tyrant and well-informed, and perhaps knew something about the old man who cast the spell.
The next morning, Lin Xingyun found the market occupied by Buakaw based on the address he had inquired about. At the market entrance, several muscular men in boxer shorts stopped him with an arrogant attitude.
"Looking for Boss Buakaw? Who do you think you are? The boss doesn't have time for nobody like you!" A scarred man shoved Lin Xingyun with disdain.
Lin Xingyun stumbled slightly, releasing the force, and calmly said in his newly learned broken Thai mixed with English, "I heard he's challenging all outsiders. I'll accept the challenge."
The scarred man was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Your small frame? Well, just in time for the brothers to stretch their muscles!" With a snarl, he assumed a Muay Thai stance and launched a ferocious sweeping kick straight at Lin Xingyun's head, a sharp sound!
The people in the market gathered around, whistling excitedly, waiting to see this ignorant outsider get beaten to the ground.
However, Lin Xingyun didn't take the blow head-on. He shifted his pace, sliding backward as if weightless, deftly avoiding the powerful blow. Simultaneously, he secretly activated his "Shadow Snake Witch Mark." In the sunlight, the shadow beneath his feet extended, almost as if alive, stealthily extending. At the moment when the scarred man's strength had waned and re-emerged, he gently tripped the ankle of his supporting leg!
"Plop!" The scarred man felt as if he had stepped on something slippery, his balance instantly lost. His ferocious sweeping kick turned into a ridiculous split, sending him sprawling and tumbling backwards!
The onlookers' laughter abruptly died, giving way to stunned silence. They hadn't seen how Lin Xingyun had managed it, but they simply thought he was incredibly lucky.
Lin Xingyun ignored the scarred man on the ground, his gaze fixed on a makeshift platform deep within the market. On the stage, a muscular man with dark skin, hawk-like eyes, and an air of fierceness emanated from him. He stood with his arms folded, gazing coldly at him. The psychic energy emanating from him was far more powerful than that of the scarred man, like a dormant beast.
Buakaw, the "Ong Baku."
Buakaw leaped from the stage and walked steadily toward Lin Xingyun. He looked him up and down, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "You don't use ordinary kung fu," he said, his English thick with a Thai accent. "Interesting. Fight me. If you win, you can ask me a question. If you lose," he grinned, revealing his white teeth, "leave something behind."
The battle was about to begin. And the black mark on Lin Xingyun's arm, stimulated by Buakaw's powerful energy and blood flow, seemed to ache again.
(End of Chapter 3)