Beware Of Chicken

It was meant to be a simple reconnaissance mission. They were sent to track down these bastards, some of the worst scum Sergeant Han had ever laid eyes upon—The Whirling Demon Blade Gang. Not the original one, of course. The Heavens damned bastards were copycats who had turned one of the most hated men in the Azure Hills into their own personal martyr and hero. They raided villages in his name, and raped and murdered as they pleased, in honour of their chosen champion.

Sergeant Han thought himself a hard man, he’d come from the worst parts of Pale Moon Lake City. He’d seen his share of death and misery but the smells of the dead and the weeping of the survivors still haunted him.

The Azure Hills Special Investigative Unit had been dispatched to the places deemed most likely to contain the bandits’ hideout. It was bad luck that Han and the Inspector had stumbled upon the whole damn place when it was just the two of them. Even worse, one of the bandits had stumbled upon them and raised the alarm before Sergeant Han had managed to silence him.

Though his luck had been… rather strange lately. Ever since he met the Inspector. First, there were the missing children and the crazy bastard who had been trying to sacrifice them to summon a demon, then there was the stolen guzheng that had been meant for some Sect Leader that they had to find, and now this.

The entire ramshackle fortress had boiled out to chase them down, and as good as both of them were… the bandits knew the land better than they did.

Sergeant Han swallowed thickly, steeling himself to go out fighting. After all, the man he respected the most was with him, and he wouldn’t be caught wanting! His hands gripped his club, affectionately named “The Great Stick that Pacifies Heaven”, or just “the Pacifier” as the Inspector called it.

It was a very useful tool in their arsenal. Great for taking prisoners, unlocking doors, persuading people…

“It appears you have caught us, Gu Xiaoming of Grass Sea City.” The Inspector’s bland voice responded to the filthy bandit. He was still standing tall and proud, his face impassive. The handsome bastard looked smooth and unruffled by their flight, his bearing immaculate as always. He was acting like they had just met after a stroll rather than a desperate flight through a dark forest.

“That’s Sun Ming to you, boy.” The man said with a grin, and his bandits laughed.

“Of course, Sun Ming. How could I forget?” The Inspector asked, a hint of that familiar sarcasm leaking through. The bandit, being an idiot, preened. “I do not suppose there's any room to parley, perhaps speak of your surrender to rightful governmental authority? Even if you manage to defeat us, if we fail to return a thousand guards from Pale Moon Lake City will descend upon you.”

The bandit paused to stare at the Inspectors, then let out a bellowing laugh. “You’ve got guts, boy! You’ve got guts! I like it—but, well, there won’t be any parley, or speaking of surrender. Outnumbered by a thousand guards? Well, that won’t matter much.”

The man smiled, and then something about him changed. Sergeant Han gagged as intent washed over them—and something became horrifyingly clear. The man was a cultivator. Their worst fears were realised.

“Indeed, civilized government men parlay—but we’re the rebirth of the Whirling Demon Blade Gang, the last survivors, and I the last brother. We don’t let the shackles of the Empire bind us. We’re free men—and we’ll do as we please.” It was all Han could do to stay on his feet, yet the Inspector remained standing, his back straight and his eyes narrow. The sash of a government official was vibrant, even in the darkness.

“You’ll do as you please? Well, what happens when the Sects catch wind of this? Or perhaps Cai Xiulan?” The Inspector asked.

The bandit paused, grimacing at the name. “They won't do shit. We know the alliances and the areas we can go. They’ll sit on their asses like the rest of the Sects, while we get strong—and by the time they ever think to do anything about us, we’ll have the entire Grass Sea under our control.”

Han felt his stomach sink, and he saw the Inspector frown at the statement. It was, unfortunately, a plan that could work. Copying Sun Ken was probably the best idea this idiot bastard had ever had.

“And then, one day, I’ll finish what Sun Ken started. Burn the Verdant Blade Sect to the ground and pluck their pretty Orchid! I heard she's a looker, eh? We’re on a one way ticket to the top of this world!”

The bandits around them all cheered and Han swallowed thickly. The Inspector raised an eyebrow.

“Bold.” He said after a moment, and the bandit laughed again.

“Awww, you’re going to make me blush, boy—maybe I’ll let you watch, eh? I’ll let you record my ascent, as my personal servant. Wouldn’t that be great?”

“Unfortunately, I’ll have to decline.” The Inspector answered blandly.

The bandit laughed. “Then I guess I’ll just have to kill you then. For making me laugh, I’ll be quick about it.”

“Hey, Boss. Can I have him? He's kind of cute.” A voice asked from beside Gu Xiaoming. The woman was missing an eye, and had visible pox-scars on her exposed stomach. She licked her lips and leered.

“Sure, go ahead, Sister. You can do whatever you want with him, my gift to you!”

Sergeant Han’s eyes narrowed at the disrespect, as something nasty settled in his gut at the thought of the Inspector, quite a young lad still, getting taken by a bandit harlot. He would be jealous if she was pretty, but Han could smell the bitch from here! He felt a gentle hand on his arm and a subtle squeeze. The Inspector looked up at the woman.

“My mother always told me to be wary of women of ill-repute and… pungent aroma. So once more, I shall have to graciously decline the invitation.”

“You little shit! I’m going to gut you!” The woman’s face flushed angrily, and the rest of the bandits laughed at her. The Inspector suddenly stiffened, and Han heard the slight buzz that came from his superior’s pocket. Han stifled the grin that nearly formed on his face.

“Last chance to lay down your arms, and perhaps your death will be swift.” The Inspector declared, his voice suddenly hard and commanding.

The bandits paused at the sudden booming quality of his voice. Some flinched backwards.

“You’re still going on about that? Boy, you’re mad! You’re courting a long and painful death, for daring to speak to this daddy that way.” The bandit roared. “No. Tonight, you’ll be our entertainment. I’ll drink your blood, eat your flesh, and sleep in your skin, boy. Sun Ken’s vision will be realized.” The enormous bastard said with a leer. “I swear on the name of the Whirling Demon Blade Gang!”

“Well… Do not complain that you weren’t warned.” The Inspector smiled and pulled a transmission stone out of his pocket. “Have you heard enough, Lady Ran?”

“Just An Ran is acceptable, Inspector,” a soft, feminine voice called out of the darkness, as a young woman stepped forwards, her posture serene, as a sword floated behind her shoulder. “And this An Ran has certainly heard enough.”

Her hair was done up in a single braid and freckles dotted her nose. She was small, and yet her presence was disproportionate as the sword beside her shimmered for a moment, then split into another, equally sized blade.

The bandits froze at her appearance as their eyes were drawn inexorably to the symbol emblazoned on her clothes.

Verdant Blade Sect.

The cocky bandits suddenly looked very pale, going still and silent. They were so quiet that the crickets started up again, playing their merry tune. Han let a smile grow on his face. These bastard were fucked.

All by the Inspector’s design, of course. Them finding the hideout was a shock… but the assault force meant to take it out… well.

Turns out impersonating a Sect’s hated enemies was really dumb. Especially when the Inspector had the bright idea to send a message to the Verdant Blade Sect, using his authority as a Special Inspector!

“You. You think Sun Ken left any successors? You dare say that our Senior Sister, the Demon Slaying Orchid, left any of that worthless bloodline alive?” Her voice was calm, like the stillness before a storm.

“I think they do dare, Sister. They insult the honour of our Sect and our teacher.” The deep voice sounded very out of place coming from such a short boy, as he appeared from behind a tree, taking a flanking position. His eyes were utterly serene. “They dare think our Young Mistress, Cai Xiulan, is anything less than thorough.”

“Well. They’re bandits. By definition they’re all a pack of unwashed idiots who like to threaten little sisters. They’re not really human, see?” A third voice joined in, cutting off another escape route as a man stepped out of the shadows. His eyes were dead like a rotten fish’s, his words dripped with malice, and his sword was already slick with blood.

“Yeah. The real Sun Ken probably would have killed them for using his name.” A fourth voice chimed in from a tree, where a man with a long green braid was practically lounging. He flipped so he was hanging upside down and smiled at the bandits. “So… let's take out the trash.”

In the silence, as the bandits took in the four cultivators of the Verdant Blade Sect, Han could smell the unmistakable scent of a man pissing himself.

“They’re bluffing! Kill them!” Gu Xiaoming roared.

The bandits screamed nearly as one as Xiaoming’s intent forced them into action. Their eyes went wild and they charged into the clearing—even as the big bastard himself turned tail and tried to run.

An Ran nearly disappeared as she leapt after him.

Sergeant Han whipped out the Pacifier. The Inspector pulled free his blade, his eyes steely while the cultivators pulled free blades of their own.

In the end, they barely had to fight six bandits! Han took care of half, just so he could watch his boss at work, then their own work was done and they had their prisoners.

The rest… well.

Han had seen butcher shops with less blood on the floor. It sure was something to actually see cultivators go to work. People were split in half like logs or shattered like pottery from blows that could rend iron and obliterate boulders. Dainty An Ran literally kicked one of the bandit’s head’s from his shoulders. It was all Han could do to remain stoic like the Inspector at the sight of the charnel house.

No matter how utterly terrifying the cultivators were, he was very glad they were on his side.

And cute little Miss An Ran, her face in a serene smile, walked back to them with Xiaoming’s head hanging by its hair from her hand. The man had lasted seconds under her onslaught. There wasn’t any blood on her.

“The Verdant Blade Sect thanks you for your assistance in this matter, Inspector.” she said.

“We were just doing our duty, Lady Ran.” the Inspector replied demurely.

An Ran shuffled slightly. “I would not be adverse to going to tea again, Inspector. At least before we leave again.” There was a slight flush on her cheeks, and Han held himself back from elbowing the Inspector. That was what, the second cultivator girl? What a guy, the Inspector. Han was almost jealous.

“Of course, Lady Ran. I wouldn’t dream of disappointing you.”

The girl nodded imperiously, while the boys smirked.

“Well, another successful mission, eh?” Han asked.

“Indeed.” the Inspector replied, as stoic as ever. Han clapped his fearless boss on the shoulder. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I nearly soiled myself.”

Han roared with laughter at the joke.

The Inspector managed to keep his face stoic and his back straight until he got into his room—and then he promptly collapsed to his knees, the sweat pouring down his face instead of just his back.

He wanted to cry and vomit at the same time. Again! It happened again! Why, why, why did this keep happening to him?! He slammed onto his back and kicked his legs, grabbing desperately for his sheets so that he could scream into them, his stomach churning.

Not for the first time he found himself wondering how it came to this. He was supposed to be studying, damn it! He was supposed to be safe and sound in Pale Moon Lake City, and not tromping around the Grass Sea!

No, no, he knew why he was here! His mother and father had warned him to be vigilant! They had! But no… he had to think the extra credit class that Noble Bastard had recommended to him was a good idea. The Heavens damn Wu Lee!

At first, he hadn’t thought much of it. It was just a bit of running and drills with the city guards. Magistrates and people in positions of power were supposed to know how to do that, weren’t they? His father had taught him how to run, ride horses, and how to dodge and cut arrows out of the air.

And then there were all those logic tests, just like what his parents and the First Archivist liked to give him, where he had to figure out the perpetrator of a crime from evidence.

One thing led to another and next thing he knew he was standing in front of the Lord Magistrate of the Azure Hills, the Director of Law and Order of the Azure Hills and everybody who was everyone! They had granted him his post as Special Inspector in a special session of court—a position that had been open for thirty damn years because everybody else had been assassinated.

And by then he was in too deep to say no, as he saw the smirking face of the bastard who recommended it to him in the first place in the crowd.

It all reeked of politicking, and he had fallen right into the trap. Perhaps his Lady Mother wasn’t as forgotten as she thought she was.

From there, it only got worse! He had tried to lay low. He had tried to do the bare minimum, but the heavens had it out for his ass! He and Han kept just stumbling across things, even when he took on the most innocuous investigations! Madmen claiming to be demonic prophets, stolen cultivator items, and now a legitimate cultivator gang! What the hells!? He wanted to climb into his mother’s lap and bury his face into her stomach while she patted his hair!

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t drag this to them, not after all they had been through. Besides, they were so far out in the countryside. He couldn’t burden his mother and father with his own mistakes.

Ugh. Speaking of parents, he still had to write them a letter this month. It would be delivered by courier first back to Pale Moon Lake City, then to another courier for the rest of the journey.

The Inspector sighed, as he finally stopped his tantrum. Straightening up he took several deep, calming breaths to center himself, like his father had taught him.

Then he shook his head and went to his desk. Studiously ignoring the perfumed scroll that had the mark of the Greywater sect on his desk, face flushing slightly at the memory of an appreciative Young Mistress, he prepared a few sheets of his own parchment. He hesitated for a moment, trying to think up how to make his lie believable.

Then, with a sigh, began writing.

To My Honourable Father, Lord Magistrate of Verdant Hill…”