The moon hung full and golden over the rooftops of a silent village, nestled between mountains and mists. Silent… except for the sound of bare feet running across the tiles.

  Tac-tac-tac.

  Su Mei ran with feline grace, her hips swaying with each elegant leap. Her almond-shaped, vibrant eyes reflected the moonlight as if mocking the world below. Her scarlet-and-black kimono fluttered behind her like the wings of a nocturnal butterfly, and her bare shoulder, wrapped only in linen bandages, glistened with the sweat of her escape.

  “You guys are persistent, huh?” she murmured, smirking slyly. “This one rather likes that.”

  Behind her, shadows leaped. They made no sound. They didn’t breathe. Five spectral figures, cloaked in living smoke, their eyes white as misty beacons. Faceless warriors wielding curved swords that swayed like liquid blades.

  Su Mei vaulted to another rooftop. It creaked dangerously, and she arched her body into a forward somersault, sliding down a rice-paper balcony as if dancing with danger itself.

  The creatures followed with ghostly fluidity, warping the space around them as if the world were a painting blurred by their passage.

  She landed lightly in a dead-end alley.

  High walls. No barrels, no ladders, no windows. No escape route.

  The shadows fanned out at the entrance. They surrounded her.

  Su Mei let out a loud sigh, stretching her arms as if waking from a pleasant nap, then turned with a foxlike grin painted on her face.

  “Finally. Now we’re right where I wanted.”

  She took a step forward. Then another.

  The shadows hesitated.

  The young woman raised one leg, cracking the knuckles of her toes. Then, she rolled her neck slowly, side to side, until the sharp pop of her vertebrae echoed through the alley.

  “Let’s start today’s lesson…”

  She closed her eyes.

  Breathed.

  And when she opened them, there was fire in her gaze.

  “Southern Style: Thirsty Tiger Fever!”

  She lunged.

  The first specter raised its sword, but Su Mei was already low to the ground, spinning in a fluid motion. Her heel struck the creature’s ankle, toppling it. Before it hit the ground, a precise elbow strike to its jaw exploded its head into black smoke.

  “One!”

  The second attacked from behind. Su Mei threw herself backward as if drunk, bending until she nearly touched the ground, then spun in a perfect arc, sweeping both legs in a scissor-like kick.

  The enemy fell sideways, and she finished it with a spinning two-handed punch to its chest—KAA-PAF!—dissolving the creature in a flare of mist.

  “Two.”

  The remaining three surrounded her with greater aggression. One swung a horizontal slash, another attacked from above, and the third tried to grab her ankle with distorted claws.

  “Northern Style: Crane’s Dance in the Wind!”

  She launched into the air, spinning her body in pirouettes, tucking her knees to dodge the slashes. As she twirled, her hands grazed the enemies’ shoulders, using them as leverage.

  The alley became a whirlwind of legs, loose sleeves, and golden sashes coiling like serpents.

  When she landed, Su Mei extended both arms to the sides, standing like a porcelain statue.

  The creatures dissolved into smoke behind her.

  “Three, four, five…”

  She clapped her fists together and blew out a breath as if she’d just taken a fine gulp of sake.

  “Hic!” she faked a hiccup. “You guys are good for a warm-up. But this one prefers opponents who can smile.”

  With a snap of her fingers, she spun on her heels and glanced at the sky. The moon still hung, round and full. Su Mei grabbed the gourd at her waist and took a swig.

  “At least you left my drink alone.”

  Her smile faded for a moment. She scanned her surroundings, and the spark in her eyes softened.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Something in the air… was still wrong.

  She tightened her fingers around the gourd.

  “You were just testing me. Not the real deal, huh…?”

  A colder breeze swept from behind the walls.

  Su Mei adjusted her kimono over her shoulder, cracked her back with a stretch, and kicked the nearest wall, opening a path to another side street.

  “Hah… you think you’ll catch me off guard? This one chooses where to dance.”

  And with that, she vanished again into shadows, smoke, and moonlight.

  ...

  The side street led to a wooden bridge over a gentle stream. Lanterns hung from wires like ripe fruit, and the sound of running water was the only noise in the air.

  Su Mei walked with light steps, twirling the empty gourd between her fingers.

  “Nothing like a good stretch to work up an appetite…”

  Then the wind shifted.

  Total silence.

  No crickets. No water. No breeze.

  She stopped. And then she saw him.

  Standing in the middle of the bridge.

  White as moonlight.

  His name was a whisper even the dead feared to utter.

  Black.

  He wore the classic garb of an eastern shinobi, white, pristine, and ceremonial, save for the tattered sleeves and asymmetrical arms. The right, bare, flaunted lean muscles covered in streaked tattoos, with the fierce pattern of a tiger in motion. The left, guarded by an iron shoulder plate shaped like a kabuto mask, warped as if torn from the face of an ancestral spirit.

  His eyes, visible through the white fabric, were cold. Deep. A bottomless well of contained fury.

  Su Mei raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, well… a white tiger. Bit far from home, aren’t you?”

  Black didn’t answer. He just walked.

  Silent.

  Lethal.

  Su Mei dropped the gourd, cracked her knuckles, and assumed her stance. One foot forward, fists relaxed, hips loose.

  “Fine. Let’s dance.”

  He came like a blade. Fast, low, slicing the air with his tattooed arm. She dodged by inches, feeling the heat of the strike graze her skin.

  She countered with a high knee, which he blocked with his armored forearm. The kabuto mask gleamed, and she heard a metallic growl, as if the armor itself had groaned.

  “Northern Style: Drunken King’s Kick!” she shouted, spinning midair with both heels.

  He vanished.

  Gone.

  Su Mei landed off-balance, slipping, and he reappeared in the bridge’s shadows, striking from above. His blow descended like a scythe.

  She crossed her arms to block, but was thrown against the railing.

  CRACK.

  The wood gave slightly.

  She spat blood. Then laughed.

  “Now... that’s fun.”

  With a leap, she returned to the center of the bridge.

  “Forbidden Style: Scarlet Flower’s Clumsy Fists!”

  Her strikes now came with more force, less balance—but pure chaos. A swirling dance, a sequence of unpredictable punches, elbows, knees, elbows again. She seemed unhinged. But it was pure technique.

  Black retreated.

  She landed an upward kick to his jaw, sending him flying two meters into the air before he landed silently, kneeling.

  He didn’t bleed.

  But he breathed harder.

  “That was for… Kinsuh,” he said, almost soundlessly.

  “Kinsuh? What Kinsuh?” Su Mei grinned. “Oh… wait… was he that guy—”

  But when she blinked, he was gone. Dissolved into mist, like the specters.

  She stood tall. Wiped her mouth. Spat again.

  “This one… didn’t kill that Kinsuh, but if he was as annoying as you, I probably should’ve…”

  She looked at the sky.

  “You’re not gonna leave me alone, are you…?”

  She shrugged.

  “Fine. See you in the next round, White Tiger.”

  ...

  The food arrived on a polished wooden tray.

  Sticky rice with lacquered duck, served with sweet-and-spicy sauce. Beside it, crispy fried vegetable rolls. And the best part: a steaming bowl of ramen with boiled eggs and generous chunks of caramelized pork.

  Su Mei plunged her chopsticks into the ramen and sighed.

  “This. This heals better than any potion.”

  She took a swig of her drink: a local wheat beer, dark and thick, with a citrusy zing that danced on her tongue.

  She ate like she owned the entire world. Mouth full, eyes half-closed in bliss, cheeks flushed from the drink.

  Between a long gulp of beer and a lazy lick of the sweet sauce dripping from the duck, Su Mei reached out and plucked a scroll from the tavern’s notice board with the subtlety of someone stealing a kiss from a distracted drunk.

  The paper was thick, neatly cut, with absurdly meticulous calligraphy. One glance, and she knew:

  “Man. Paladin. Obsessed with formality. Probably a vir—”

  She coughed to herself, stifling the thought.

  “Wanted: Adventurer(s). Search and recovery mission. Unspecified wild region.”

  “Hmm… mysterious. This one like it,” she muttered, crossing one leg over the chair and propping her elbow on her knee.

  “Offensiveness required.”

  She arched an eyebrow.

  “Offensive? This one? Perish the thought.”

  “Teamwork essential.”

  “Uh-oh…”

  She kept reading, chewing the last piece of duck with half-closed, amused eyes.

  “Current party: Layla – physical combat and tracking specialist (class: Amazon). Jay – tactical fighter and magical support (class: Paladin).”

  “Hm. Amazon and paladin… smells like a mix of chaos and moralizing.”

  “Offered: Payment proportional to the mission. Additional rewards for full success. Meals included (subject to hunting availability).”

  She burst out laughing. Loudly.

  “So you’re saying they’ll roast me a rabbit and call it a bonus?”

  But it was at the bottom of the notice that the real charm shone through.

  In the corner, drawn with charcoal and questionable enthusiasm, was a small sketch: a grinning Amazon giving a thumbs-up with an axe over her shoulder, next to a stick figure with giant shoulder pads and a face that screamed lost faith in humanity. Above them, in a speech bubble:

  “Come with us, it’ll be awesome!” – Layla

  Su Mei laughed from her throat, letting her head fall back.

  “Alright, axe maiden… let’s see if your promise holds up with more than graphite and charisma.”

  She stood, tucked the notice between her breasts with the ease of someone who’d been hiding secrets in her chest since she learned to walk. Paid for the meal, spun the clay gourd in the air, and left the tavern with a light step, as if floating. It was time to track down the most curious Amazon and paladin in Edsoria.

  The street was full of lanterns. And among them, the fox smiled, ever watchful.

  ?