The clamor of the Bangkok bazaar seemed to freeze at that moment. The crowd held their breath, their gaze fixed on the two figures facing off in the center of the arena. One was the renowned "Ong Baku," exuding a beastly ferocity. The other was the seemingly ordinary, even frail, young foreigner, Lin Xingyun.
Buakaw's bronze skin gleamed in the scorching Southeast Asian sun, his muscular form as sculpted as cast iron. Simply standing there exuded a suffocating sense of oppression. He assumed a traditional Muay Thai opening stance, fists clenched, elbows and knees, his strongest points slightly tilted forward, as if poised to unleash a shattering force. His eyes, sharp as a knife, locked onto Lin Xingyun, a trace of inquiry and undisguised fighting intent.
"Boy, I'll give you one last chance. Surrender now, leave your things behind, and you'll avoid physical pain." Buakaw's voice was deep, his English accented with a rough Thai accent. Lin Xingyun took a deep breath of air mingled with the sweet aroma of tropical fruits, the pungent scent of spices, and the earthy scent, trying to calm his restless mind, strained by the ominous mark on his arm. He could sense the psychic energy within the other man, like a volcano about to erupt, fiery and violent, far surpassing even the thugs before him. A head-on confrontation would be a sure win.
He didn't adopt any traditional martial arts stances, simply lowering his center of gravity slightly, his feet planted unsteadily, as if rooted to the ground. He subtly activated the faint "Shadow Snake Witch Mark" on his palm, and a cool current began to flow through his meridians. His shadow, shrunken to a small ball at his feet under the near-vertical scorching sun, began to distort at its edges, imperceptible to the average eye, like subtle ripples on water.
"Please," Lin Xingyun uttered simply, his right hand raised in a gesture reminiscent of an invitation in traditional Malay dance or martial arts. His posture was relaxed, even possessing a strange elegance. This almost contemptuous attitude infuriated Buakaw. With a low growl, he said no more, and with a sudden force from his foot, a small cloud of dust rose from the dry ground! His body shot like an arrow from a bowstring, delivering a classic, ferocious right Muay Thai kick that ripped through the air with a shriek, striking Lin Xingyun's temple! The force of this kick was enough to break a wooden stake as thick as a bowl!
Some in the crowd even gasped in surprise, as if they had already seen Lin Xingyun's head shatter.
However, Lin Xingyun moved. His movements seemed slow, but at the critical moment, his body, like a willow branch by the riverbank, gently leaned back and spun in the direction of the kick, his feet performing a peculiarly rhythmic footwork, narrowly avoiding the fatal blow. This was the essence of the footwork from the Malay martial art of sirat, which mimics the flow of water and the agility of animals.
The strike missed, and a flicker of surprise crossed Buakaw's eyes, but he continued his attack. Punches, elbows, knees, and kicks rained down on Lin Xingyun like a raging storm. His attacks were direct and brutal, imbued with the most primal beauty of power. Each strike aimed for vital points, a lethal technique honed through centuries of combat.
Lin Xingyun, like a small boat in the raging sea, never collided head-on with Buakaw. His movements were elusive, sometimes like a butterfly darting through flowers, sometimes like a snake emerging from its lair, always managing to evade attacks at the last moment. He wasn't merely dodging; he was exploiting the air currents and shadows created by the opponent's attacks.
After a series of ferocious elbow strikes from Buakaw, Lin Xingyun seemed to stumble back, falling into the shadow of a pile of bamboo baskets stacked for shade near the stall. Buakaw, taking advantage of the momentum, followed up with a powerful straight punch, intent on shading Lin Xingyun and the baskets themselves.
Now! With a gleam in Lin Xingyun's eyes, he activated his "Shadow Snake Witch Mark" with all his might! Buakaw's determined punch was about to land when he suddenly felt something gripping his foot! He looked down to see his own shadow, stretched by the sunlight. But from its ankles, eerie shadows like black vines had seemingly emanated, locking him in place! This feeling wasn't physical restraint, but a chilling, stagnant feeling emanating from the shadow itself, instantly slowing his movements by a hundredth of a second!
Masters clash, each fighting for a fraction of a second!
The moment Buakaw paused, Lin Xingyun moved! He no longer dodged, but stalked close like a ghost! He avoided Buakaw's strongest frontal attack and slid sideways into his arms. One hand, like a swimming fish, caught Buakaw's punching arm and, with a subtle, Tai Chi-like technique tinged with the unique characteristics of Southeast Asian martial arts, he pulled and pulled, further unbalanced.
At the same time, in Lin Xingyun's other hand, the family heirloom, the Chris dagger, had been unsheathed! The undulating blade traced a chilling arc in the sunlight. It wasn't a slash, but like a venomous snake spitting its tongue, it struck Buakaw's throat with lightning speed!
The sensation of the cold sword tip against his skin made Buakaw's hair stand on end! All movement stopped instantly.
Time seemed to freeze. Buakaw remained thrusting forward, while Lin Xingyun's dagger rested firmly just before his Adam's apple. Another half-inch forward, and blood would splatter five steps forward.
The entire crowd was deadly silent. Everyone was stunned, unable to grasp the events that had unfolded. They only saw Buakaw's furious attacks fall flat on their faces, and then, somehow, this outsider's strange dagger held him in a vital position.
Buakaw stared at Lin Xingyun, his eyes filled with disbelief and anger, but ultimately, all these emotions dissolved into a complex mixture of shock. He clearly felt that the strange stagnation beneath his feet was no illusion, and the precise timing and the subtle yet deadly power his opponent displayed as he closed in were beyond the reach of ordinary Awakened beings.
Lin Xingyun slowly retracted his dagger and took two steps back, breathing heavily. The series of actions he had just taken had drained a significant amount of his mental and spiritual energy. "Thank you."
Buakaw touched the faint red mark on his throat left by the sword tip. The fierceness on his face gradually faded, replaced by a respect for the powerful. He put away his fists and asked in a stilted English, interspersed with Thai: "You... weren't using any martial arts I know. What was that? And what about my kick just now..."
Lin Xingyun sheathed his dagger and calmly replied: "An ancient method that resonates with shadows and this land. I have no intention of becoming your enemy, I just want to ask a question."
How can a defeated general claim to be brave? Despite his fiery temper, Buakaw deeply respected the strong, especially those who had defeated him in such a strange and unpredictable way. He waved his hand, dismissing the stunned minions around him. Then he said to Lin Xingyun, "Ask. I, Buakaw, keep my word."
"I'm looking for someone who casts a spell." Lin Xingyun rolled up his sleeves, revealing the dark, twisted black mark on his arm. "An old man with cloudy eyes. Do you know where to find such a person in Bangkok, or any clues about this mark?"
Seeing the mark, Buakaw's expression suddenly grew solemn. He gestured for Lin Xingyun to follow him as they walked towards the simple platform deep within the market, which served as his "throne." "You've caused quite a bit of trouble." Buakaw lowered his voice, a hint of fear in his eyes. "The kind of people you're talking about belong to the 'Shadow Snakes'... a very ancient and very dangerous organization of sorcerers. They rarely appear, but it's said they've become much more active since the Spirit Rain. They're targeting you, most likely because you possess something they desire, or... you yourself."
He paused, then continued, "I've heard of this mark; it's called the 'Ghost Eye Mark.' It not only tracks, but it's said to slowly devour the victim's spirit and vitality. Even ordinary temple monks find it difficult to dispel it. It's going to be difficult for you to resolve it."
The clues led deeper into darkness, but at last, there was a direction. Lin Xingyun's heart was heavy, but his gaze was firm: "No matter how difficult it is, I'll try."
Buakaw looked into Lin Xingyun's clear yet resolute eyes, and remembering his unpredictable methods just now, a thought suddenly struck him. In these chaotic times, ruling a region on your own is certainly satisfying, but facing those treacherous forces lurking in the shadows and the covetous foreign powers, perhaps... more powerful allies are needed. "Hey, kid," Buakaw suddenly spoke, his tone less aggressive. "What are you going to do next?"
Lin Xingyun looked south, toward Indonesia: "Find a way to solve this problem."
"How about taking me with you?" Buakaw grinned, revealing dazzlingly white teeth. "I'm good at fighting, and I know the intricacies of the Gulf of Siam better than you do. You help me... well, see a more powerful world, and I'll help you fight, and hide from the spotlight. You embarrassed me just now, and I'm going to have to stay in my territory for a while."
This was an unexpected bonus. Buakaw's fighting prowess and familiarity with the local situation were undoubtedly a huge help. Lin Xingyun pondered for a moment, then extended his hand: "Yes. My name is Lin Xingyun. Happy to work with you."
The two hands clasped tightly together. One was a local overlord known for his fierce boxing skills, the other was a mysterious young man with an ancient shamanic heritage. In this chaotic Bangkok bazaar, they formed their first and most solid alliance. The "ghost eye mark" on Lin Xingyun's arm seemed to twitch imperceptibly the moment they shook hands and sealed their alliance, like a venomous snake in the darkness, opening its cold eyes.
(End of Chapter 4)