A sound, both surprisingly pleasant and sharply abrupt, sliced through the air as two cars executed impossibly tight drifts simultaneously. After navigating a sharp curve, the vehicles braked before a tunnel entrance. Yang Yi glanced up at the concrete dam above the opening and absently touched the soft sword he carried.

The figure known as the Black Master did the same, though he moved directly to retrieve his katana before stepping out of his car. He cast a sullen glance toward Yang Yi on his right, his aura of murderous intent utterly undiminished.

“Looks like tonight is going to be damn interesting again,” Yang Yi murmured under his breath as he disembarked, his soft sword in hand.

“You must be Yang Yi.” The Black Master fixed his gaze on him, harboring a flicker of surprise. He hadn't expected such a young master to be the boss of the Black God Gang. It was certainly intriguing.

“And you’re the head fish and shrimp from those Rising Sun devils, the Black Master, right?” Yang Yi offered a faint smile, avoiding a direct answer and instead posing his own question.

“Likewise. But I have one question for you.” The Black Master offered a slight smile, but it was one laced with sheer terror.

Yang Yi's lips curved into his trademark roguish grin. “I wonder what you want to ask, Master. I’m rather pressed for time; it would be best if we could resolve this quickly.”

“Oh? You think you’ll still be alive before dawn?” the Black Master sneered contemptuously.

“How can we know without trying?” Yang Yi certainly wasn't underestimating this man. The killing intent radiating off the Black Master, coupled with his own innate sense of alarm, already told him this was a master—and one whose strength surpassed his own.

“Did you personally kill my son?” the Black Master narrowed his eyes, locking onto Yang Yi.

“Your son?” Yang Yi frowned, his mind racing through memories. “Which one are you referring to? If you mean those Japanese types, I admit I killed a few today.”

“Hmph, so it was you. That settles it then—you’re leaving your life here tonight.” The Black Master gave a cold snort, drawing his katana and staring at Yang Yi with palpable malice.

Yang Yi, not daring to hold back, made a swift motion. The entire soft sword shot out, and with a sudden surge of his hand, a grating Sizzle! sound accompanied the transformation: the soft sword stiffened into a hard one. He secretly adjusted his internal Neixi, knowing this opponent warranted his full effort. If he couldn't defeat him even at his peak, then he’d have to leave the rest to fate.

“Ah…” The Black Master cried out, then swung his katana and charged toward Yang Yi with heavy strides.

“Whoosh!” Yang Yi pushed off with his back foot, seeming to launch himself into the air. His eyes were cold as he watched the Black Master approach. Yang Yi raised the sword, first unleashing a "Sweep Away a Thousand Troops," immediately followed by a side kick.

But these attacks seemed to have no effect. Such is the nature of masters sparring; the Black Master leaped back, whirling his katana for a descending strike. Thump! The sword actually bit deep into the concrete ground, revealing the immense power behind that single blow.

A chill ran down Yang Yi’s spine. He muttered, “This guy’s movements are bizarre. I just saw him move with an effortless swing, but that slash actually sunk several inches into concrete.” Thinking rapidly, he remained alert and prepared for the next move.

A dark shadow crossed the Black Master’s face. He stepped forward in a sudden leap, brandishing his katana and whipping it around repeatedly. “Your Huaxia martial arts are nothing but garbage in the eyes of us Samurai. Hmph. For someone your age to possess such skill, I confess I’m impressed, but you are still no match for me.”

“Garbage, is it?” Yang Yi scoffed internally. This little Jap was too arrogant. While Huaxia martial arts might have faded over the years, if a true master were present, would he dare call it trash?

“Hmph. In your eyes, Huaxia martial arts are trash, but in mine, they are infinitely superior to your so-called Bushido nonsense.” Yang Yi snorted, channeling his Neixi upward, shaking his entire body. Then, he flung out a cold gleam and sharp light as the soft sword blurred, rapidly entangling with the Black Master’s katana.

With a sharp Clang!, the friction between blade and sword scraped out a dance of light and shadow, seeming to generate sparks.

“Hiss—!” Yang Yi smirked, exerting a surge of internal force. The entire soft sword sliced past the Black Master’s side, then executed a swift return arc. The weapon in his hand seemed imbued with life; its tip, like the head of a venomous serpent, struck viciously at the Black Master.

The Black Master was not to be outdone, raising his katana backward to block the rear attack, but he couldn't defend against the assault coming from the front. Yang Yi delivered a flurry of rapid kicks—a style bearing some resemblance to Wong Fei-hung’s ‘Buddha’s Shadowless Kick’—though Yang Yi’s kicks carried significantly more destructive force.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The Black Master absorbed several of Yang Yi’s kicks head-on, staggering back about two meters. However, he didn't appear seriously wounded, only spitting out a small trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

Although Yang Yi sensed he was outmatched, the Yi Jin Jing internal energy was not to be trifled with. No matter the difference in rank, he could still bring down his opponent—that was the advantage of superior weaponry and the emphasis on Neixi in Huaxia martial arts.

Yang Yi glanced at him calmly, a wave of dread washing over him. He had just used eighty percent of his strength, and this man only suffered minor injuries. “This battle tonight is going to be brutal.”

“Tsk, tsk…” The Black Master let out a sinister, eerie chuckle, his eyes fixed on Yang Yi with venomous intent. “I will make you die today.”

The moment the words left his mouth, his silhouette shifted, becoming strangely demonic. His speed had clearly increased by a significant margin. Yang Yi felt an inexplicable jolt in his gut and muttered, “Has this guy gone mad?”

The adage rings true: Better to offend a true gentleman than provoke a madman. When a madman goes berserk, the danger and trouble are immense, as he attacks without regard for his own life, stopping only when his sole objective—your death—is achieved. This was the state of madness.

Boom—! Yang Yi reacted too slowly and took a full punch from the Black Master. “Ah…” He felt a searing heat across his chest; two ribs were likely broken. His body flew back a meter before stopping. He propped himself up on one hand, coughed, and spat a mouthful of blood. A deep, icy shudder ran through him as he looked ahead. “Where is he?”

Yang Yi cried out in surprise, suddenly sensing cold air behind him. He immediately mobilized his Neixi and leaped forward, following with a spinning back kick. Thump! The Black Master was sent flying by Yang Yi’s kick, but even as he fell nearby, he sprang up instantly, seemingly still trapped in his frenzy.

“Damn it, what kind of monster is this? Cough, cough.” Yang Yi felt his strength rapidly waning, inwardly cursing, “Not good. That full-power blow fractured my ribs and shattered some of my meridians. My internal True Qi cannot stabilize properly.”

His mind screamed disaster, but Yang Yi had no time for further thought—the Black Master was fully unhinged now.

“I want you dead, I want you dead, I want you dead…” the Black Master chanted relentlessly.

“Damn it, I’ll go all out!” Yang Yi gritted his teeth, enduring the sharp pain as he forced his True Qi through his compromised meridians. He sprang forward with all his might, rushing toward the Black Master.

Seeing Yang Yi’s charge, the Black Master’s face contorted hideously. He casually tossed aside his katana, then thrust his hands forward, his fists a blur of motion.

“Damn it, this is hell!” Yang Yi saw the Black Master abandon his sword, so he quickly retracted his soft sword as well. Clenching his jaw, he summoned the absolute last trace of his True Qi, channeling it through every single meridian in his body, causing a series of popping and cracking sounds to emanate from him.

“Tsk, tsk…” The Black Master let out a strange, low sound, then charged forward with desperate force.

Both men seemed committed to one final, all-or-nothing strike.

Boom—!

Pfft, pfft!

“Ah—Ah!” As they collided, both men cried out simultaneously, and blood suddenly began to spread across them.

“Child… child… Only when your life is truly threatened, then come find me, child… child…”

That voice, those exact words, screamed and called out again within Yang Yi’s mind and heart.

####################### Meanwhile, at the Jiangsu Police Headquarters.

“Chief, Chief…” A police officer rushed in breathlessly from outside.

“What is it?” A slightly portly middle-aged man asked, setting down a file.

“Chief… someone just came to report that… that…” The officer hesitated, unsure if he should speak.

“What’s wrong? Spit it out, or get out!” The Chief’s voice deepened, his eyes narrowing.

“Chief, there’s a firefight happening inside the headquarters of the Triad… no, inside the Black God Gang building!” The officer blurted out the news upon seeing the Chief’s slightly irritated expression.

“Oh?” A sharp gleam flashed in the Chief’s eyes. He thought to himself, So it’s started already? Though he didn't know why he suddenly thought that, it suggested he somehow knew this was coming. “You can leave now. Notify everyone—we’re letting them off early today. It’s almost two o’clock.”

“Ch-Chief, yes, I understand.” The officer nodded and stepped out.

Shortly after the officer departed, the Chief of the Jiangsu Police picked up the phone and dialed. “Hello, this is the Chief of the Jiangsu Police. They have begun!”

“Yes, I understand!” came a middle-aged voice from the other end of the line.

After hanging up, the Chief sighed wearily. “Ah, thank goodness I’m smart. I got a tip from Old Wang earlier; this Black God Gang is truly not simple.”

Just as he finished speaking, in an office far away at the A City Police Headquarters, a middle-aged man let out a sudden sneeze. “Is that bastard insulting me again?”

“Achoo!” He sneezed again.